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#the doodles are because I wanted a quick study into how to draw more handsome women lol
aplusod · 1 month
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i doodled rika
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egg-emperor · 2 years
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I'm always like damn I wish I had the money to commission art of my self insert with Eggman because I can't draw other humans besides him. But with my headcanon of Eggman being a great artist, I like to imagine he'd draw us together sometimes and that would fulfill the dream in the best way imaginable as it's coming from the man himself!
Eggman draws us in his cute scribbly doodle style a notepad and I happen to spot it when he forgets and leaves it open on his desk. I find it adorable how he wasn't even planning on showing it to me, he just felt like sketching it for himself amongst other things on his mind on the free space of the pages and I'm delighted to be in his thoughts. Even though he says it's not much as it's just a quick scribble, it's so precious to me and I beg him to let me keep it 💕
It gives him the idea to draw a detailed complete piece of us so he can gift to me on a special occasion. It looks amazing, he's great at capturing accuracy and detail and his hard work and focus on making sure it's perfect really shows. The thought of him studying me to make sure it's accurate... 💘 To make it even better, he also does the little thing I said I'd love- he wrote our names and drew a little heart in place of the dot above the 'i' in my name 💕💜💖💘💗💖
I'm amazed and flattered by his work, it's a masterpiece! My heart flutters and is so full of joy for how he used his great skill to create something so wonderful for me! I have to get it framed so I can treasure it forever. I give him lots of loving hugs and kisses to thank him, praise him for his brilliant artistic skills, and say I'm so lucky to have him as a bf that's so handsome and talented heheh. He enjoys feeling so appreciated and loved, it gives him a big extra ego boost.
I'd love to cuddle up to him and watch him draw. He's confident and calm, he can draw just as well as usual with someone watching, which makes it even more impressive. I watch his beautiful, experienced, and talented big hands move with every careful sketch stroke, line, and detail. I find it cute how he sticks out his tongue a little in concentration. I'm blushing and smiling at the sight because I'm so mesmerized by his skill and enamored with his beauty. 🥰
When he's finished and presents it to me, he has a big proud smile on his face that grows even bigger when he sees my eyes light up. I totally gush and tell him he's so beautifully talented and give him a big hug. He loves the attention and praise and wants to show off more to impress me and take pride in it. Drawing us together is one good way but I can request anything else too and he does a brilliant job every time, whether it's a quicker sketch or a full piece! 💖
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liyawritesss · 3 years
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Hii how are you 💖 I was wondering if I could please request Headcannons or anything that's easier for you of Bakugou & Tamaki (or just Bakugou) with a s/o that writes poetry & draws but hasn't told them & they see it and they're woow🤯gn or fem is okay feel free to ignore & ofc take as much time as you need 🥰🤗
ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ᴀʀᴛɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜱ/ᴏ
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Pairing: TEEN!Bakugo Katsuki/Amajiki Tamaki x TEEN!Black!GN!Reader
Genre: Fluff Headcanons
Synopsis: Bakugo and Tamaki react to finding out their s/o is a patron of the arts!
Warnings: 1st Year!Bakugo/Reader and 3rd Year!Tamaki/reader, anxiety mention
A/N: I always love artistic!reader tropes because art is one of very few healthy ways to express emotion, and I myself have a very personal attachment to it. I hope you enjoy this, I haven't written for tamaki in a while so thank you for the refresher!!!
ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ
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It happens when you head to the bathroom during a study session for an upcoming exam
The usually irritated boy is just tapping on his notebook, waiting for you to return when his eyes glance over to the unkept mass of journals you have set aside your bed
He’s aware that you doodle sometimes, he sees you doing so in class and has scolded you for doing it during instructional time before.
He noticed that one is open and, in curiosity, picks it up from its place atop the pile of journals
Its a very detailed drawing, one that brings a hum of intrigue from his throat
It's him, oddly enough. Its a side profile portrait, and he’s guessing you drew it in class one time when Aizawa permitted a ‘free day’ because normally he gives detailed lectures so fast, if you blink you’d miss important test information
He doesn’t confront you about it right away about it, but after the test is done and you’re relieved you passed, he does say quite the interesting remark
“Maybe if you stopped drawing me in class you wouldn’t need last minute help for a test,”
ᴀᴍᴀᴊɪᴋɪ ᴛᴀᴍᴀᴋɪ
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Tamaki likes to immerse himself in things that remind him of you when you’re away on internships at your primary hero company
So it’s common he slithers his way into your room in the middle of the night to snuggle in your blankets after a night terror
You have a lot of books littering your room in massive piles in every corner, so he tends to read them from time to time
He accidentally comes across an open journal that he assumes is another one of your many books. Your handwriting is so neat and pretty to him that sometimes he confuses it for actual book print, and he ends of reading a few of the poems in said journal
The flow of the words and the stories - or the idea of uncovering one - drew him in so much that the normally anxious boy didn’t even notice you enter your dorm room after being released from your internship
Tamaki was so cute, nose deep in your journal without a care in the world, you thought it cruel to disturb his peace and decided to do your unwinding routine while he stayed handsome and intrigued on your bed
After a quick wash and a change of clothes you came back to Tamaki still reading your journal, perhaps mumbling to himself but you were too tired to strain your ears
You crawled into the bed next to him, the sudden sip in the mattress startling Tamaki, but when he felt your familiar hand slide into the locks of his hair and pull his head into your chest, he relaxed almost instantly.
Its not until the next day that he asks you about the book he was reading the night prior, wanting to borrow it to read over once more. You tell that what he was reading was your journal and, upon this new information, Tamaki babbled out apologies for invading your private book, and even promises not to read any more of your books for fear of stumbling upon another private journal
If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don't be shy to send a request!
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Same anon thank you for answering my question! I was wondering if you could do headcanons for MTMTE Rung, Megatron, Rodimus, Minimus, and Swerve with an Artisic human reader that just sees the good and creative artist side of everything? From books to pictures to even their own bot? Like they can just look at their bot and go out on a whole rant on how beautiful their optics are from the color to their expression. if that’s too many characters you can take any one, I don’t mind! Thank you and have a good day ❤️
You're welcome! I'm always open for clarification, so feel free to ask questions about whatever you'd like if you're unsure on anything. I took a little liberty with this one, but I've got all the requested bots because darn it all these beautiful mechs deserve recognition!
Rung
·He discovers your artistic inclination thanks to years of experience reading personalities and emotions at a glance, but he wasn't prepared for the depth of your conviction in seeing the world through a creative lens, which he learned upon speaking to you about your process as an artist. This surprise grows as he sees you sketching around the ship, your exuberance for the inherent beauty in everything coming through in every conversation you share.
·When he praises some of your sketches on a quiet day in his office and is compelled to ask how you developed your style, he's fascinated by your explanation, and his spark is warmed by how beautifully you describe the world around you and credit it for inspiring you. He's visibly shocked when your list of current subjects and muses includes him specifically, and you can't help but chuckle at the usually calm bot looking so absolutely flustered. There's no way for him to hide any of that feeling when he requests a bit of clarification; there's hundreds of bots on board, what about him could possibly stand out?
·You're happy to elaborate on your process to a bot who so regularly underestimates his worth and lay out why he in particular piques your interest. The warmth and goodness of his being is such a rare and beautiful thing, you explain, but also so rarely appreciated that it drives you to try and capture that essence in a manner one can see. How could you not? Such compassion and empathy and forgiveness should be remembered! You've also seen that he's capable of accepting any genuine apology, and to have that level of mercy after so much war is beautiful, enough that you have to try and show it.
·To say he's touched is an understatement of unfathomable proportions. Removing his lenses to clear optics blurred with tears, he doesn't even know how to begin processing your praise of his character when you add that his physical self hardly fails to encourage you either. His glasses nearly slip from his hands when he hears you say that. You continue quite easily; the kindness in his optics and the sweetness of his smile, combined with his genuinely handsome profile, simply inspire you to start sketching.
·He's touched, but you have to understand, he is NOT accustomed to this level of praise. Between the near tears and the blushing he has to politely excuse himself to recover from this absolute tsunami of emotions, but being flustered and melted at once is enough to have him smiling through a little blush all day long. While he tries to take a little bit of your mindset into his everyday life going forward, he gets a bit dazed every time he sees a sketch of yours that includes his face, as that level of artistic devotion being dedicated to him is more than he'll ever be able to process. Not that he minds...
Megatron
·Being more familiar with the written word, he enjoys the arts but has little experience with those who create them, and time has not been on his side in regards to learning more. Thus, you're one of the first artistically inclined individuals he's been able to discuss the topic with, which he was motivated to do after catching a glimpse of your work. He could swear some of your sketches bear a resemblance to him, but he says nothing on the matter and is certain his optics are tricking him.
·Your talk of technique quickly surprises him by shifting to inspiration, which to you is the primary driving force of your work, as it influences how you go about conveying the subject matter. Eager to share what you mean, you explain that anything can have beauty worthy of capturing if you just take the time to look at it right. Even the most mundane or seemingly unappealing things can be remarkable if you know their story, and you want to convey that energy as wordlessly as possible.
·A little overwhelmed but quite impressed by your manner of reasoning, he rather jokingly asks if even beings like himself could ever inspire you, or perhaps another artist with your mindset. He's caught off gaurd like never before when you, quite enthusiastically, reply that he most certainly can and does! To keep his composure he recalls portraits of his likeness being commissioned to inspire his soldiers, but never believing these fell under the category of art so much as they did propaganda. They often depicted him quite... violently as well.
·Having never seen these pieces, you reply that your own experience is tied more to how you see him now, and you flip through your sketchbook to demonstrate. As close to your level as can be, he's speechless while you explain what you wanted to capture about him in each sketch, whether it's a quick study or a detailed project; and that's how safe he makes you feel. Hearing himself referred to as a protector cuts straight through his powerful armor.
·You depict him looking almost... gentle? Hearing you describe the his immense size as a source of comfort and his strength as a tool of keeping peace processes about as clearly to him as a foreign language, but he nods along and keeps the conversation going until his duties call him away. Though he says nothing of it, he volunteers himself for more of the physically demanding work around the ship. His body's purpose had always been decided for him, but you've reminded him he has the only true say in its use, and that everything really is a matter of perspective. Perhaps he'll take up sketching once this is all over.
Rodimus
·He's certainly always had an appreciation for visual appeal, even if his idea of beauty doesn't often overlap with what most would consider artistically valuable. This and his natural alertness makes him quick to notice you often sketch about the ship, frequently when he's present, but at first he leaves you alone to work in peace. Having a hobby on this crew is beyond valuable, and he doesn't want to distract you from a passion... That is, until he decides on one especially slow day to just ask you what you like to doodle about.
·You can tell he wants to be a little nosy, if only because he's naturally a curious bot about these things, but you're more than happy to share regardless. There's a lot due to the ample downtime on the quest, and he has to squint so he can properly scan the many sketches on the human sized paper. He happily recognizes friends, locales about the ship, even earth things he knows about... but he's not ready when he finds a picture of himself.
·While he remains outwardly playful, teasing you with how he'd pose if you only asked, he's internally flattered that you took the time to draw him. More specifically, he's touched by the way you drew him. The sketches and portraits portray him as a calm but amicable leader, standing tall and serving as a guide to those around him, a true "father to his men" kind of bot... it's everything he wants to be, but is quite certain he's not. He's barely able to keep up his smooth persona when he asks about your process.
·You explain that you find inspiration in everything, but he's been your chosen subject lately for a lot of reasons. It's no secret he's handsome, but you see something more when you look at him, and you did everything you could to show it here; there's a real leader in him. Maybe some bots don't see it under all the bluster and sarcasm, but you see how much he cares for every bot on his crew. He wants to be the best for all of them, and even if he struggles at times, that effort is beautiful to you.
·It takes everything in him to bite back some very embarrassing tears, and the crack in his voice doesn't help him hide the emotion, though he covers that up with unconvincing coughs and claims something got in his optic. From then on he seems to stand a little taller and find his assigned duties a little easier to bear, but you absolutely notice how he poses in what he believes to be heroic fashion whenever your sketchbook comes out. Inspired by his enthusiasm, you invite him to model more officially, and the crew is just happy to see him so enthusiastic.
Minimus
·Being as observant as he is, your consistent appraisal of your surroundings is not something he'd ever miss, but your frequent sketching in the most random places does leave him absolutely mystified. Every time he sees you there's artistic supplies on your person, but he can't find anything that appears to be worthy of putting to paper, so what could you be drawing? He respects your privacy too much, and feels too silly about his curiosity, to interpret and ask you for an explanation.
·Thus it's with some small eagerness that he finds one of your sketchbooks after it's been misplaced, and he sees the perfect opportunity to slip in a question. For the sake of handling something so tiny, he approaches without his armor, offering the lost item back with barely concealed pride at your delight to have it returned. In the moment of truth he nearly falters, but does indeed manage to ask what you draw around the ship. He leaves out the fact that he's observed you whenever you draw in his presence.
·The question has an answer only he seems to think isn't obvious; him! You spend time together frequently, and while everything is fair game for sketching, he's a very regular subject for you. Whether he's wearing the Magnus armor or not, you explain that the commanding aura he radiates is something you can't help but find beautiful. That word choice baffles him enough that he has to interrupt; beautiful? Commanding? Even without his armor?? You're delighted to assure him that you absolutely mean that.
·Hearing you describe the details of your reasoning, like the quiet dignity of his stance or the calm intelligence of his red optics, touches his spark in ways he wasn't expecting. He's calm and speaks softly as he keeps the conversation going, asking questions about your various works and listening attentively when you answer, processing your view of the universe as being packed with beauty in all the places people don't think to look.
·Any bot that sees him during the remainder of the day absolutely notices the change to his entire demeanor; namely that he's smiling a soft and barely perceptible smile. It's not long after he requests a few sketches from you to keep in his office, whether they're of him or not, and he has them framed in places of honor. He doesn't tell you, but you figure it out, that one particular drawing of him you gift for his sake is kept securely stored in a compartment by his spark.
Swerve
·Many bots may see him being a tad bit on the shallow side when it comes to the arts, but our beloved barkeep has his own unique appreciation for creativity and all the ways it can be visually expressed, and you recognize it not long after meeting him. As his bar is a frequent hangout for everyone, you find it to be a fantastic place to sit and sketch, as the variety of bots makes it quite easy to have your choice of subjects even if you have to sit on a table. Obviously Swerve notices and asks you what you're drawing when traffic slows one evening.
·You're happy to show him your work and he's always eager to hear what everyone is up to, so he starts asking questions about your art in general. How long have you been an artist? What's it like suddenly having a whole ship of aliens to sketch? Why draw here all the time? At that query you light up brilliantly, and he's delighted by your enthusiasm as you describe all the incredible sights the bar has to offer.
·You list some of your favorite things to draw, like the many friend groups on the ship that gather here, the brilliant colors of the glowing vats of enjex, and him smiling and rushing with orders through it all. That last one gets a flash of surprise from behind his visor, which is quickly overtaken by exuberant delight; you've been drawing him?! He babbles out a surge of confusing statements that you're eventually able to interpret as a request to see, just one he's too bashful to say directly.
·Happily obliging, you're touched by how he smiles at every little sketch, and feel compelled to explain that he's a big part of why you love drawing here. You try to see beauty in everything, even what often gets overlooked, and there's so very much of that here. The bar is one of those places that everyone knows is special, but you know he's the reason they love it like they do, and that his enthusiasm and hard work hold it all together. You find that inspiring, and actually quite beautiful. It doesn't hurt that his brilliant smile is always a treat to sketch.
·Trying to play it cool and totally failing, he doesn't quite hide that he's near to tears when he asks if you'd like to hang some of your work up in the bar, or maybe have a little corner for yourself to draw from. He just doesn't want you getting squished while you sketch, is all! And having a better vantage point is ideal for someone so small! When you accept, he gives you your own human sized accommodations not too far from the heart of the bar, and every so often when you sketch he'll glance up at you absolutely beaming.
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srose-foxfire · 4 years
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“Under an Autumn Moonlight” Part: 3 (Damirae fic)
Part #1
Part #2
Part #3 
Raven let out a deep sigh as she exited her history lecture hall. Her mind should had been in class, but her mind she kept going back to the very uncomfortable lecture they received from their landlord outside their apartment building. Raven and Donna had returned to find their apartment building evacuated because their friend and roommate, Jinx, had started a small fire in their kitchen. Their landlord was furious with them all, this wasn’t the first time Jinx had endangered lives before. It was her third, and their landlord was running out of patience to let them continue renting the three-bedroom apartment. The only thing saving them from being evicted was that they were college students trying to get by and focusing on their degrees. Though Raven was certain with another ‘Jinx incident’ they be kicked out to the streets, for sure.
Their friend seemed to be a magnet that attracted misfortune wherever there was any electronic device. Nevertheless, they all cared for Jinx very much. Raven wouldn’t be true to herself if she didn’t feel a bit least upset for leaving Robin. She was starting to feel at ease with him and wanted to continue talking with him. It also seemed he wanted to talk about something more personal before she got the phone call from Jinx.
“I hope to see you again.”
Was the last thing Robin had said to her and in truth Raven wanted to see him too. She didn’t know how to though, it would look strange if she just showed up at the warehouse, besides she didn’t know when the band was there. Maybe if she could contact him directly? Robin was friends with Jon, maybe Raven could ask Jon for Robin’s number, but knowing Jon he would question her and then go gossip to Donna who would interrogate Raven on the matter. Raven didn’t even know what all this was, the only thing she was certain was she wanted to see him again and just talk.Right? That’s all she wanted nothing more.
Raven continue walking down the main walkway of the university going to her next class. Introduction to Astronomy. One of the class assignments she was looking forward to was going to an overnight camping trip to stargaze and map out constellations. Their professor also added that they could distinguish the planet Saturn from the stars because it was closer to Earth during the fall semester.
Raven could hardly wait and just stargaze to ger heart’s content. Since a child, Raven always liked looking up into the starry night sky and letting her worries be swept from her.
Raven didn’t have the best childhood; she lost her mother at very young age where her memories were blur glimpses. What always made her think of her mother was the smell of lavender. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could had sworn seeing her mother standing next to her crib and light a lavender scented candle, singing her a gentle lullaby. When her mother passed, she was left with a drunken father who wasn’t home at all doing who knows what. She was confided in that small apartment for eighteen years, the only times she was allowed outside was to go to school. During the day she was the good student, getting the highest remarks in every class, but when night came, she let herself cry out. One night she looked up to a full moon and imagined it was her mother’s way of lighting her dark world. Since then Raven found solace in the night sky.
When Raven graduated from high school, she left that small apartment and moved away with her only friend Donna Troy to Gotham City, for a new start. There they met Jinx, this made Raven feel she had someplace she could really call home and have a family. She entered the new school year without declaring a major, but knew she wanted to be surrounded by books. During her second year in the university, Raven was passing by a small vintage store and through the window saw a mother and her very young daughter look through a worn-out book. In that moment Raven imagined herself in the girl’s place and transformed the woman to what vague memory Raven had of Arella, her mother. That’s when Raven decided she would open her own bookstore, in memory of her mother, and help others find sanctuary.
Raven finally arrived at her astronomy classroom. She sat down in her usual lab table and took out her notebook and textbook. There were ten tables in total, separated in pairs to force students to work together. Though the seat next to Raven’s was always empty, which was weird there were exactly twenty seats and twenty students were enrolled. One student was never called for, yet the seat was taken since no one had dropped out. To act like she could rely one someone, Raven always placed her backpack on the empty seat, the bag was a trusted ally who always carried her things. The classroom was starting to fill as each student too their seat before the professor arrived.
Raven was looking over her notes from last class when she noticed someone out of the corner of her eye standing next to her table.
“Is this seat taken?”
Raven looked up and her gaze widen in shock. Standing before her dressed in designer clothes was none other than Damian Wayne. Like theson to Bruce Wayne and heir to run Wayne Enterprises. What was he doing here?
Raven managed to squeak out a no, and quickly as she could remove her backpack from the chair. Damian sat down, and took out a notebook, flipped through it till he found a clean page. He scribbled something on a corner and then very gracefully pulled out his textbook. This made no sense, Raven thought. Was he the one student that was enrolled and never show up? And why show up now of all times. They were halfway through the semester and come to think he wasn’t around for the midterm they had taken a few weeks ago.
She could feel the atmosphere change in the classroom as everyone stared at the young man next to her. Damian Wayne was someone who didn’t allow anyone get near him other than his family, in interviews and documentaries on his family’s company he was always seen to be at a distance from everyone. Raven wasn’t much for gossip, but all these were just rumors and online news articles she had heard from.
From the corner of her eye she saw Damian read over some notes, he looked so calm. Like he had no care in the world. Which was surprising given to the fact she caught some of her classmates taking pictures of him. Probably posting on their social media pages that the infamous Damian Wayne had graced their presence. Raven would lie to herself if she didn’t admit he was handsome. His olive skin looked almost that of a god of sun, his emerald eyes containing vivid green forests in them. Raven wasn’t staring she had seen countless pictures of him to study his features. The room went silent when Professor Charles, entered the classroom.
Professor Charles was in his late sixties, with a small rounded belly and fine gray hairs still trying to cover his baldness. He went straight to his desk, plugged in his flash drive into the classroom’s computer and turn on the projector. Someone who sat behind Raven, cleared their throat rather loudly making Professor Charles look up from the computer screen. He was about to address the student when his eyes caught something unusual. He removes his small round glasses, gave them a quick wipe, and placed them back on the brim of his nose.
“Ah. Mr. Wayne. Glad you could finally join us. I assume you will be with us till the remainder of the semester?”
“Yes. Professor.”
Raven tried so hard to pay attention she hadn’t been focused in her previous class but now this was ridiculous. Her mind kept screaming:
Ahh it THE Damian Wayne! Is he going to be OUR lab partner?
When did she revert back to a lovestruck teenager? He was just another classmate nothing more. Raven continue to try and focus on the lecture and take notes as the studious student she was. Her mind wondered again but thankfully this time it made her start doodling on the corner of notebook page. She was going to pay for it later, but Raven manage to write down some words she heard her professor say. Raven will have to go over one of her classmates notes after deciphering whatever her brain allowed her to retain. She allowed her hand to move to whatever direction it wanted, she wasn’t paying it no mind.  
Raven stopped when she heard countless chairs screech, she looked up to find her classmates collecting their belongings and heading out the door. Raven shot a quick glance towards Professor Charles and he was erasing something he wrote on the white board. Panicked kicked in and Raven quickly wrote whatever was left of the assignment. Maybe she could ask someone for clarity on the homework through the class’ online portal? Feeling very disgruntle with herself, Raven started slamming her things into her backpack.
“A robin.”
Raven looked up to find Damian standing from his seat staring at her notebook. She then looked down and saw she had doodled a bird, though she wasn’t sure with herself if it was a robin. “I guess.”
“Your favorite bird?” he continued.
Damian was trying to make small talk. Why with her? “Not really, but birds are cool.” Brain stop talking. Raven was making a fool of herself; she flipped her notebook closed and slammed it into her backpack. Out the corner of her eye, Raven could still notice Damian just standing there. Was he waiting for a longer explanation? “I was thinking of some… thing that happened over this weekend. Made me draw a bird.” Truth was she had met someone but he didn’t need to know that little detail.
“Sounds interesting. I’m Damian Wayne by the way.” I know. “I have been away due to personal matters and would like to ask if you could assist me? I fear I may be a little behind and could use a study partner for this class.”
“Well according to the seating arrangement, we’re supposed to be lab partners for the whole semester. I’m Raven.” She extended her hand out and Damian shook her hand.  
Damian smiled at her, “pleasure to meet you.”  
Raven could had sworn she seen that smile once before, but couldn’t place it in her mind where she had seen it.
--------------------------
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this update, I wanted so much to happen but had to pace myself for the sake of this story. I am not sure when I will update this one next, trying to figure out a route that I like best. HOWEVER be on the look out this Friday for the first two chapters on my Dark Robin Au! I am excited to share with you all this fic, also because I want to multitask I will be sharing a chapter  for another longer Damirae fic sometime this weekend. 
Till next time!
~ S.Rose
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birdwonder · 5 years
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headcanon the joestars on how they would react to an artist s/o like always painting, drawing and giving them like a painting of them they worked on?? thank u 💕
|| I don’t do part 5 or further requests yet, and I’m taking Joestars as in the Jojo’s, but I think I know Giorno somewhat enough to throw him in ! Also, cuuute request.
Part 1-5 Jojo’s | Artist S/O Headcanons 
Jonathan Joestar
- As one would expect, he is incredibly supportive of your talent! All of your family/couple portraits are hung up in the hallways and even a few landscape ones too to keep things looking lively. His favourite above all favourites would go above the fire place however, which is probably a painting of the two of you that you had gifted him on your anniversary.
- He cherishes it more than most possessions he owns, and when he’s warming up by the crackling flames, he can’t help but smile at it. That’s your hard work and your effort up there, and any house guests will know it as soon as he shows it to them. 
- Honestly, he doesn’t want to request anything from you as he feels as though anything that you gift him that comes from your mind and heart alone is far more valuable to him. Besides, he wouldn’t really know what to ask for aside from another portrait of you to hang somewhere that wasn’t taken up.
- During the spring and summer seasons, you take the time to set up an easel, canvas and paint set in the garden to have some fresh air and gather new inspiration. Even if you haven’t even gotten far into the piece, Jonathan will eventually come out the house with two cups of tea and stand behind you, bending down to lightly kiss your temple as he’s afraid anything more passionate would interrupt your creative process or cause your finger to slip. He would then ask for you to take a break and sit with him at a table to enjoy the view together, so the two of you can talk about your future painting plans and how his studies in archeology are going. Mutual respect for each other’s interests is an essential ingredient in any relationship.
- “Oh, look at your hands! No matter, we’ll just have to wash them once we’re inside,” is something he says before you realise that a tea cup you were holding had been smudged with a variety of green’s and blue’s from your fingertips. You apologise profusely in which he shakes his head at with a chuckle. “It’s alright, my love. I think it makes them look far more unique now! No china set in the world could look like this.”
- Skip 100 years into the future and your paintings may be in a gallery with a small “to Jonathan” written in the corner.
Joseph Joestar
- Definition of “Paint me like one of your french girls.~”
- Definitely suggests a nude painting of him. Or you. Or the two of you together, whether it be a joke or he’s somewhat serious.
- He’s amazed by your talent! Including your patience. He probably wouldn’t be able to sit still for long enough to even paint an abstract tree, so he has nothing but respect for your artistry. 
-If you were to ever gift him a drawing, he’d be stunned. Does he even deserve to own one of your pieces? Was this a declaration of love? Because he’s accepting it with a hard kiss to your lips and a string of ‘thank you’’s and compliments.
- One day, you had a serious artist block and had no idea what to paint leaving you stumped and staring at a blank canvas in despair. The lack of spark in your eyes that you usually had when painting hurt Joseph, so as a foolish attempt to help, he grabbed a bottle of one of your haunts and squirted it all over his hand.
- You gasped in response, about to scold him on the price of the paints when he suddenly slapped it smack middle of the canvas. “Joseph! Those cost a lot!”
- “Yeah but it’s fun! C’mon try it! Get your creative juices flowing or whatever you art folk say!” Taking your hand, he squirted a different colour onto it which made you giggle cutely as the cold sensation. He then guided it next to his bright hand print, pressing your palm down.
- It looked adorable and gave you an idea.
- With a smile, and a promise from Joseph that he’d buy you more paint later, the two of began to spread more paints onto your hands and continued to cover the canvas mindlessly with your prints.
- By the end of it, the two of who are laughing and even smearing paint on each other’s faces, leading to some squeals and hilarious facial features. 
- Sure, it wasn’t want you had initially wanted to go for, but with a carefully painted on “Joseph and [F/N]” written underneath the first two handprints that were made, you knew that the sentimental value of the piece was far greater than anything else you could have made.
Jotaro Kujo
- He has no reason to be against your talent and doesn’t have enough words and facial expressions to his name to show how impressed he is with you.
- Though that slightly changes when you hand him your sketch book one day, a bashful look on your face as you fear for the worst reaction from him.
- Inside are a multitude of sketches and even fine lined pieces of him, some with and without Star Platinum if you can see him, all carefully and accurately drawn in your own style. You even remembered to add the pin on his hat and his earrings...
- Jotaro could only blush brightly and cough into his hand to compose himself. “It’s good... I like it.” An understatement really, because if you let him keep even a page, he’ll be sure to keep it safe somewhere but no where obvious so his mother or grandfather don’t tease him for it. 
- If you ask him to pose for anything, he’ll want to decline and might even do so the first few times, though with some begging he may do some poses in your home, with the assurance that no one will barge in. Only casual ones though, so he doesn’t have to strain or embarrass himself.
- Buying presents for you is considerably easy as there’s always some sort of pen or paint set he can get to add to your wide range of media, all of which you are grateful for and gush over even though you tell him that buying them is unnecessary.
- “Have you considered doing an art major?” If you say yes, he supports you completely but warns you of the stresses and the harsh reality of the art world when it came to work.
Josuke Higashikata
- Ooh, is he going to show you off.
- “Yo Rohan Sensei! Sure you can draw that manga of your’s but can you draw THIS?”
- He might get killed or have his destiny rewritten by a certain stand user, but he knows it’s worth it when it comes to you. Have you seen your own art? It’s incredible !
- Most likely, he finds out by seeing you doodle in class and his jaw completely drops that your maths work sheet was instead covered in drawings of amazing bodies and plant life. If you insist that they’re nothing and “they’re just sketches,” he will personally shake you senseless and talk your ear off telling you that they are amazing. 
- Gifting him any kind of artistic media makes him overjoyed. Josuke shoves it in Okuyasu’s face, much to the delinquent’s dismay, and hugs you to death for the gift. “Aw babe, you really didn’t have to!”
- If you’re ever stressing over the quality of your work, he reminds you that you are amazing at what you do and that everyone has their own style, so that comparing yourself to others just wasn’t fair on you. 
- He plays a personal game where each day he tries to guess how much pen or paint you have your hand by the end of the day. Usually on weekends, it’s a lot more.
Giorno Giovanna 
- There’s a good chance that you met because of your work.
- You’re in a particularly beautiful Italian city, either sitting on a stool or ledge with a canvas or book in front of you, your hand working away at the landscape before you.
- While he was on a relaxing stroll, Giorno stopped behind you and peered over your shoulder, his breath taken away by how accurate your piece was to every exact detail.
- “Bellissimo...” He whispered, causing you to jolt a little and quickly turn around to look at him, a flushed or embarrassed look on your face. Oh, you’re cute.
- Right after he apologised for startling you and praises you for your work, which only flusters you more that such a handsome boy was complimenting you, you offered for him to sit next to you. Perhaps for you to even draw him?
- He doesn’t refuse.
- Once you’re dating, he takes you wherever you want whenever he can so you can draw the scenery, and shows you more gorgeous places to draw and even suggests what sort of people to draw. He also supports you doing something out of your comfort zone, for example if you typically liked to only sketch, he’d suggest for you to paint or use chalk in another style to see if it improves your skill as a whole.
- When he’s a don, he asks for you to paint or draw him so that he can hang it somewhere in an expensive frame to make his work place appear more serious and clear that he was the boss.
- If you do so, he thanks you a hundred times and buys you anything you want and as much as you want. Giorno also makes sure to repay you physically with a night out and kisses with a goodnight cuddle. 
- He might keep a small sketch of the two of you in his inside jacket pocket or draw so that every time he took it out during work, he’d be reminded of you and how you met, which motivated him to get the job done quick so he could go home to see you.
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yeojaa · 5 years
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SUGAR HIGH, chapter iv. (w. JJK)
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You're not entirely sure when it happened, though you'd come to terms with it. You'd counted the days, waiting for the inevitable. You'd truly thought you'd be okay, but by the broken, half-beating thing in your chest - you knew you'd never really been prepared.
alt summary.  You thought you’d known real love and maybe you had - it just wasn’t with who you thought.
pairing.  jeon jungkook.  mentions/involvement of ot7.
tags.  angst, break up, post-break up, comfort, OT7, slow burn, friendship, moving on, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, emotional bagge, fluff, canon compliant, jeon jungkook is bad at feelings, jeon jungkook is a good friend, jeon jungkook is a sweetheart.
rating.  general (for now?)
word count.  ~2100
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chapter 4.  How’m I Doing
They say all that ever matters is timing.  You think they must be right - because no matter how good you've always been together, the timing is just never right.
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He's awake before you and for once, he doesn't mind how his internal clock has him stirring before the sun has risen. It gives him time to linger here, where he belongs.
It feels oddly domestic, his arm hooked around the pillow and the other barely breaching the divide between you.  Tips of fingers ghost over where you'd be if you only shifted an inch, trailing through the heat radiating off your frame.  He exhales a sound like frustration but there's only warmth in his mouth, peeking past his teeth like rays of sunlight.  
Like this, Jungkook allows himself to daydream.  To imagine endless summer skies and you weight of your hand in his, laughter curling out of your mouth like smoke and filling the space until he's drunk on the sound.  He drifts between your cotton candy smile, so saccharine sweet it gives him toothaches, and the feel of your hip nudging his through choreography he'd love nothing more than to practice with you.  (You'd hate it - two left feet, you'd argue - but he'd insist.  You'd always say yes.)
He closes his eyes and it's you at his side, keeping him anchored to this reality he's so often surprised by.  It's you laughing with Hoseok, bursting into an impromptu slide and disappearing behind fingers when he's focused his lens on you.  It's the two of you in the kitchen, adjusting to each other with practiced ease and cowering when Seokjin reminds you both of the burning banana pancakes.  It's you swiping the rain from his eyes, pulling him beneath a shared umbrella while the sky opens above you, so heavy it sinks into your bones.
He imagines being swept away during the holidays, Christmas shopping in between trying on silly costumes, elf-hats pulled low over your ears.  He kisses you at midnight on New Years and he nearly forget about the fireworks going off above your heads - there are enough of those between you.  He finds your face in a sea of thousands, serenades you like there's nothing else in the world.  
He daydreams about all the things he's never had.  
(Whoever said daydreams hurt had never dealt with a reality like this.)
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 You're studying his face like a woman possessed, as if maybe, just maybe, you could burn this image into your mind for the rest of your days.  That it could be your saving grace when he's halfway across the world and you're reminded that you're alone again.  
You memorize the slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his lips, the way the little freckle smack dab in the centre draws your attention without even trying.  You examine the way his lashes flutter with each breath, the way his forehead tenses here and there, brows drawn together by something you wish you could smooth away.
You want to give him the world. 
Instead, you're gingerly reaching out, puppeteered by your quick-beating heart.  
It feels like electricity shooting through your veins, igniting your bloodstream as the tips of fingers graze his temple.  You touch him like he's precious, crystal, about to shatter into a million pieces.  Within your brassy broken cage of bones, your heart skips a beat.  You withdraw--
"Don't stop."  He's caught your wrist in the same moment you've pulled away.  He's pleading, hopeful and sweet.
When you card through his powder puff of hair, a smile spreads like butter, too big for his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes.  A hum of contentment parts his lips and he's leaning into your touch, seeking warmth like a sunbathing cat.  You gladly oblige him, alternating between stroking the swell of his cheek, doodling nonsense into the margins of his skin, and sweeping his mop of brunette behind his ears.  
You stay like this for minutes that stretch on in silence - only broken by a vibration of his phone.
"You have to go," you speak the words faintly, muffling the sound against your pillow.  You know how you sound - disappointed and just a little petulant.  You don't mean to.  
He hums, as he always does, and catches your fingers in his own.  His large palm engulfs yours but your fingers, long and thin from years of piano practice, easily combat his.  You giggle once, soft and low, as he twines them together, gently knocking yours - his? - knuckles against your chin.
"I do."  It's like a nail in a coffin, the finality of it.  "Why don't you come by later?  Everyone will want to see you."
The thought makes you smile despite yourself.  You'd missed them, too.  "Okay."
Your acquiescence seems good enough for him and he's bright-eyed and bunny smiled, mouth splitting wide.  He's still got your hand in his, refusing to let go as he rises up, holding himself comfortably upon one elbow.  There's emotion in the way he looks at you, takes in the way your bangs drift hazy over your vision and your teeth worry your bottom lip with self-conscious abandon. 
"You'll be okay, you know."  His reassurance is stronger than the sun's rays, more concrete than the ground beneath your feet.  It's equal parts a statement and a promise.  He'll make sure you're okay - he always has.
Because he's the person who dives without thought, swimming among the shipwrecks in your eyes.  He's the one who has always brought the light to those cracked hulls and broken boughs.  He's ignored the swirling void and gnashing teeth, refusing to leave behind the buried treasure he knows sits beneath the trench.  He'll pull you to the surface, even if it means drowning in your ocean. 
"I know - I have you."  
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 Once he's called for a car and you've both brushed your teeth, you wait outside the front door together.  You're sipping at coffee - or trying to - and he's leaning on the railing, light bathing his handsome face in a way that makes your heart stop.
He was your best friend but you'd be lying if you said he wasn't breathtaking.
"We've got meetings until about 3 PM.  I'm not sure what's going on after that but you can probably just come by then."  Jungkook is studying his phone, scrolling through unread messages and deftly ticking back responses.  He's got his bag hiked over his shoulder, lighter now that he's unloaded your souvenirs, and seems perfectly at ease.  Without glancing up, he's holding out a hand for your mug of coffee.  You pass it to him without a word, watching the way the steam curves  around powdery skin and drifts into the early morning.
He takes a sip, nose wrinkling in that distinctly Jungkook way, and hands it back to you.  "Too hot."
"I could've told you that,"  you murmur around a mouth of beguiling laughter, happily returning both cold palms to the ceramic.  Heat warms you to your core as you drag your lips through scalding liquid once more, staring at him unabashedly.
"What?"  He notices - of course he does - and levels you with what's meant to be a demanding stare.  Perhaps it would be, if not for the way his expression splits in half, suspicious facade giving way to a smile that could only be described as beautiful.  "Soomi-ah, you know it's rude to stare."  And there's that bunny quality, two front teeth standing center stage.
"I'm just glad you're home." 
He scoffs to hide the sudden rouge that colours his cheeks, tinges the tops of his ears.  He's immediately pulling you against his side, careful not to dislodge the cup from your hands.  It's silly, the bashfulness that rises in his chest and settles like an unfamiliar weight on his shoulders. 
Jeon Jungkook was many things but shy wasn't one of them - not really. 
He'd grown into his long limbs and wicked smile, frighteningly aware of the effect he had on most people.  He'd learnt to command it, switch it on and off so quickly it'd cause whiplash.  Gone was the timid fifteen year-old, replaced by a larger than life idol with a pouty mouth and a body that could make you cry.
But that was only out there - to them, the people who loved him and his hyungs unconditionally. 
Here, with you, he was just Kookie. Even if you rarely used the nickname now. 
(You said it didn't belong to just you two anymore, and he supposed that was true.  He wasn't just yours anymore.)
"I'm always just a phone call away," he murmurs into the top of your head.  He's said it once and he'll say it again, even if you don't believe him.  He knows it's just your stubborn nature that keeps you rooted in place, refusing to take up any more space in his life.  He also knows you'd call if you really needed him.  You always did.
You nod, the only indication you've heard him.  You know, you know. 
"Your car's here."  
It's like the ending to a bittersweet fairytale - the strike of a clock at midnight. 
He squeezes you a little tighter and you allow yourself to loop an arm around his impossibly small waist, gently squeezing his hip.  Then he's gone, taking the steps two at a time as he bounds down to meet the sleek black sedan.  You're not sure who's in the driver's seat - whether it's one of the boys or a manager or someone else entirely - but you catch the way a hand pops out of the window.  A quick wave.  Someone you know, then. 
Right before Jungkook steps into the passenger seat, he's waving as well, wrist flailing like he's boneless.  "I'll see you later!"  He calls, disappearing inside and behind the shadow of a tinted glass.  You wonder if he even hears you when you call out.
"Bye, Bunny."
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 "She's back home."  There's surprise lacing the rich baritone, turning the statement into a question as soon as Jungkook has slid across supple leather.
The younger man hums, slotting his backpack between his knees.  "Yeah, recently."  He doesn't offer anything more as he cards a hand through his hair and shifts to recline fully into the seat.  He's ready to head back to the complex and take a long hot shower and prepare for the day.  Hopefully there'll be something to eat, considering how early it is.  He's sure Seokjin will have whipped something up.
"We weren't sure where you ran off to so quickly but Yoongi-hyung had an idea."  
"Why would Yoongi-hyung think I was there?"  Jungkook doesn't have time to catch himself before the his words are rolling off his tongue, seemingly held by a string that furrows his brow.  He ignores the way Taehyung's own raise, disappearing into his carefully styled fringe.  
"They talk, you know."  Whatever sixth sense the elder has seems to drive him to continue his first though, molasses heavy on his tongue in an effort to smooth whatever feathers he's ruffled.  "We all do.  She's our friend, too."  A moment of silence as he rolls to a stop, nodding politely at the halmoni that is helped across the street by what he assumes is her grandson.  "Yoongi-hyung said she'd been sad lately, so he figured you'd want to see her as soon as we got back."
Jungkook isn't sure what the emotion clawing up his throat is or why it feels like bile and envy, licking acid over his vocal chords.  He doesn't even realize he's holding tension in a vice grip until he's loosening his hand, little crescent moons dug into the soft flesh of his palm.
He shouldn't be jealous.  He doesn't really even think he is jealous.
Hurt, maybe.  That makes more sense.
"Oh."  He wonders if it comes off poorly.  By the way Taehyung shifts in his periphery, he's sure it does.  
So he clears his throat and offers a contrite smile.  These are his hyungs, his best friends, his brothers.  He knows better.  He thinks you'd reprimand him if you caught him like this.  You'd tell him they were your friends, too, and that you could never have enough people who loved you.  You'd make a point about ARMY, about the people who've raised thousands of dollars in his name and wrote you letters thoughtful enough to make you breakdown.  He'd have to agree.
An abundance of love was the best problem to have.
"She's coming by later,"  Jungkook relents, lolling his head to the side as he speaks.
Taehyung beams, boyishly handsome and relieved by the melting tension.  Long fingers tap the stirring wheel as gears turn in his head.  He hasn't seen you in forever - ages longer than his maknae - and he can't help but imagine the ease with which you'll slot back into their lives.  Even if only for a little while.
"Great.  Let's keep it a surprise."
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notes.   i realized i haven't been proofreading anything so i apologize for any mistakes littered through past chapters. i'm going to start planning out future ones so hopefully there will be more rhyme and reason moving forward. @-@ 
this chapter was heavily inspired by eric nam's "how'm i doing". https://youtu.be/D46_enlxfP8
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sloshi · 5 years
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Sasusaku Fanfic - Prologue
Title: Captain!
Pairing: Sasusaku
Summary: Passing lewd notes in class is all fun and games—that is, until it smacks a certain baseball captain upside the head. Japan!highschool AU [will be Slow burn / eventual smut]
Read Chapter 1 preview here
Prologue
“—recognizes the cell as the basic unit of life, genes as the basic unit of heredity, and evolution as the engine that propels the creation and extinction of species. Living organisms—“
Sakura blinks heavily, tuning out her teacher’s lecture with shameful ease. With her chin resting sleepily in her hand, she glances at the clock above the chalkboard, nearly rolling her eyes in dread when she sees that the minute hand hasn’t moved nearly an inch since the last she checked. Which was like an hour ago.
(Okay, so maybe it was like a minute ago, but seriously, come on.)
She drums her fingernails impatiently against the wooden desktop, blatantly ignoring the glare from the guy next to her, who’s shooting laser beams with his eyes at her tapping fingers, annoyed.
Green eyes trail lazily back to Kakashi-Sensei, a teacher she’s almost positive has a porn-addiction if the orange book that is always sticking out of his back pocket is any indication. Sakura scrunches her nose in disgust—It’s no wonder he’s teaching Biology. A shudder runs down her spine.
She debates whether or not she should sneak a nap. There’s still twenty minutes left of class, and honestly? She knows this stuff already. She’s read the textbook—all three-hundred and twenty pages of it, and Sakura is more than ready for the test this Friday. Maybe she’s an overachiever (an over-doer, if you will), but if she’s going to be a doctor one day, she has to be. There’s no half-saving someone’s life.
At least she doesn’t have to worry about falling behind, unlike her best friend who wouldn’t be a senior right now without her. She snickers to herself, remembering all the notes she had slapped onto Ino’s minty-blue bedspread two nights before the final exams last year.
‘You mean, I have to read all of these?!’ She had screeched, her face nearly purple with terror.
Sakura clapped a simple hand on her shoulder, smiling, unabashedly relishing in her misery. Maybe next time, Ino will actually study instead of poking fun at Sakura’s notes all the time now that she sees how much work she puts into them. You live and you learn, Ino-pig. ‘Yup!’
(Speaking of notes.)
Glancing down at her spiral notebook, her bubbly scrawl of handwriting takes up only half the page since she had abandoned writing about fifteen minutes ago. Pursing her lips, she stops drumming her fingers (she swears the guy next to her moans in relief.) and picks up her pen, drawing nonchalantly in the empty space. Mindlessly scribbling little spirals along the faint blue lines, she pauses when she suddenly finds herself doodling a familiar name.
Sasuke.
Baseball captain. Brilliant. Top-of-the-class. Perfect lean body. Tall, dark and handsome—you know, everything that shouldn’t be possible for one man be all at once. (It’s so unfair because nobody should be that perfect. Seriously.)
Despite his obnoxiously shining qualities, he’s quiet for the most part. Keeps to himself like he’s a secret. Or maybe he killed someone—it’s not like she’d ever know, since she the only stuff she knows about Sasuke is purely by rumor. They just happen to float her way, and honestly, it’s a little hard to ignore gossip that involves the baseball captain of KHS. Everyone knows him. Loves him, actually.
Okay, so maybe only the female population loves him. The males, however, are a different story—but they’re just jealous sore losers if you ask her. It’s not like Sasuke asked to be born that freaking attractive.
She’s also heard on several occasions that he’s actually antisocial—withdrawn to a point. He doesn’t attend activities outside of school, other than baseball, and he’s never seen at mixers or parties. In fact, the only person he’s really ever seen with outside of school is the catcher of the baseball team; Naruto Uzumaki. A blonde knucklehead of a guy she’s seen, heard of, but never spoken to.
(And even though Sasuke and Naruto were rumored to be gay, Sakura secretly hoped Sasuke was at least Bi.)
You’d think a guy like him would embrace his genes and take advantage of every opportunity he gets, considering the way he can literally make a whole room swoon just by entering.
But as far as she knows—or anyone knows—he’s never had a girlfriend. (Or boyfriend.)
Too bad it only serves to make him more interesting, if half the crooning girls of the school are anything to go by. Sakura likes him too, but she’s not screaming across the baseball field, clinging to the chain-link fence like a wild animal, asking to have his babies in the middle of his pitch. (True story. She was there. The girl was escorted off campus.)
After punctuating the last letter of his name with a little heart, she sighs wistfully and looks up, green eyes following the incline of desk rows downward where the very man himself sits at the edge of his row, diagonal from her perspective, whose quick hands are working away at his notebook diligently.
He’s as handsome as ever, she sighs to herself, as she studies the side profile of his perfectly unblemished face (he probably doesn’t even try!) His sharp raven bangs fall sinfully over equally dark eyes that are slightly narrowed in concentration as he writes languidly, following Kakashi-sensei’s lecture with ease. Sasuke pauses every once in a while to look up at their teacher, nodding curtly in understanding at whatever the silver-haired man is saying, as if he’s genuinely intrigued by the lecture, before returning back to his notes.
Sakura blinks in surprise, however, when Ino—who somehow managed an assigned seat next to the Uchiha, the conniving pig—turns her platinum blond head in her direction. Baby blue eyes squint mischievously, accompanied by a smirk that Sakura has learned to detest over the many years of their friendship, when her eyes flicker to Sasuke and back to Sakura. A smirk like that from Ino is nothing short of dangerous.
What, Sakura mouths impatiently.
Slender blonde eyebrows waggle suggestively and Sakura glares pointedly as if to say: Whatever you’re thinking about doing, Pig, don’t even try it.
Ino’s smirk only grows more wicked, eyes twinkling impishly when she swiftly turns back around and begins to scribble something in her notebook. Eyes narrowing in suspicion, she studies the back of her best friend’s head with a frown.
Slowly, reluctantly, Sakura returns to her own notebook, picking up where she left off, but she’s only added a few more little hearts around Sasuke’s name before something light and airy smacks her forehead and bounces off to land directly upon her notebook.
What the—
She snaps her head up, eyes immediately finding Ino’s platinum ponytail. Despite not being able to see it, Sakura sends her a dark scowl and inwardly curses. Passing notes in class is a huge no-no; it’s an instant detention and maybe Ino doesn’t care about her perfect, unblemished  school record but Sakura does ThankYouVeryMuch.
If she gets in trouble, Ino is so dead.
With a petulant huff, she finally looks down at the offending object. A crumpled ball of paper sits innocently upon Sasuke’s scribbled name. Kakashi-Sensei has long since turned his back to the class, his ever-boring monotone voice a mere drawl in the background as he jots something on the chalkboard, completely oblivious to the paper note that has soared half way across the classroom.
Sakura makes a face at Ino’s back one last time before she gingerly opens the wad of paper before her, almost afraid of what she’ll see. Maybe it’s a picture, she thinks. The paper crinkles a little loudly, and naturally, she flinches, but somehow luck is on her side—Kakashi-Sensei’s back is still turned. Sighing in relief, she quickly reads Ino’s sloppy note.
Don’t think I don’t see you eyeing Sasuke-kun, forehead girl. If you want his dick that bad, you could always just ask... too bad you’re such a prude. And you might wanna wipe that drool off your chin, although I suppose Sasuke-kun could lick it off for you. How bout it, Sakura?
A cute little smiley face punctuates the end of the sentence and it takes every ounce of control in Sakura’s body not to openly gape. Turning seven shades of red, she jerks her head to send the deadliest glare she can manage at her best friend, only for her simmering anger to amplify when she finds Ino smiling back at her, a hand over her mouth stifling laughter. (That witch!) Flustered, Sakura grinds her teeth together and snatches her pen, eager to put the pig in her place.
You’re disgusting. Sakura scribbles angrily, but then stops abruptly as an idea sprouts in her head. Two can play at this game, she whispers sourly to herself. Sakura will be damned if Ino thinks she can embarrass and tease her without getting a taste of her own medicine.
Oh, I’ll show her ‘prude’.
Smirking and feeling quite proud of herself, she promptly erases her first two words and begins to rewrite.
Lick it off? Oh, pig. I’d let Sasuke-kun do more than just that. I bet you think you did something there, huh? You’re a real comedian. And speaking of prude, I’ve never seen you with a guy either. Why don’t you ask him out yourself? Hypocrite.
P.S. if Kakashi-Sensei catches this note, I’ll personally kill you.
Satisfied, Sakura draws a tiny passive-aggressive heart, crumbles the paper back into a wad and waits until Kakashi-Sensei turns around again. The second his back is turned, she hurls it through the air where it bounces against Ino’s shoulder and onto the floor. She hastily bends over to pick it up, skims it over, and throws Sakura an offended look over her shoulder.
Cha! Take that, Ino-pig!
Sakura childishly sticks out her tongue, inwardly pumping a fist in triumph. Ino can make fun of her all she wants, but at the end of the day, she’s really not one to talk. She’s never seen her best friend advance on a guy, and the fact that she’s hounding her for not busting a move on Sasuke Uchiha—the freaking baseball captain, of all people—is laughably ridiculous. Sure, she’s liked him for three years. But who hasn’t. It was a harmless, silly crush; something she’s never expected to grow into anything other than just that. He’s so far out of her league it’s almost embarrassing. They’ve never even spoken before, least of all looked at each other. She’s pretty sure he doesn’t even know she exists—at least, he pretends not to.
Sakura remembers all too clearly the day she once tried (with all the courage her hopeful heart could muster) to say hi to him. They had been the first ones to arrive in the classroom one morning, leaving them completely alone with each other. He had already been seated at his desk, writing something in his notes, clearly absorbed—oblivious to her entrance. Her palms had been so sweaty it was a wonder how she even held onto her notebooks.
“Good morning, S-Sasuke-kun.�� She had greeted cheerfully (nervously), a one-thousand-watt smile lighting her face like a Christmas tree. Heart thundering, she clenched her notebooks to her chest, face blossoming as pink as her hair as she waited for him to acknowledge her as she casually passed him by.
He hadn’t even looked up. (That jerk!) But when she had settled into her desk, deflated and deeply humiliated that she had been disregarded so easily, so rudely, it was only then that she had noticed the earbuds in his ears. Her chest flooded with relief. He probably hadn’t even heard her.
Maybe next time, he’ll notice me.
But there had never been a next time. Sighing heavily at the memory, she is ripped from her thoughts when a crinkled ball of paper plops onto her notebook again. Sakura takes in a deep breath, not even bothering to look over at Ino—who, Sakura would bet a million dollars, was smirking with glee. She unfurls the note as quietly as she can manage.
Yeah, I bet you would love for him to do more than that, wouldn’t you. And I may not have ever been with a guy, but at least I’ve been kissed. What’s it like, daydreaming about Sasuke-kun’s wet, sloppy kisses? You’ve liked him for like, three years now, Sakura. Get a fucking move on, already. The suspense is killing me. Wrap your cute little ass in a bow and slip him your virginity.
P.S. Kakashi-Sensei can suck my dick.
Eyes nearly popping out of her skull at that last sentence, Sakura hunches forward protectively when the guy next to her scowls in disgust, as if he read the note himself over her shoulder. Arms still shielding the crinkled paper from unwanted eyes, Sakura chances a look at Kakashi-Sensei before she furiously writes back.
For gods’ sake! What if Kakashi-Sensei catches this note by accident! Also I definitely do not daydream about his kisses. Okay, maybe just a little . . . But don’t you dare bring up my virginity, pig. I bet Sasuke-kun doesn’t even know my name—
“—Sakura?”
She nearly jumps out of her seat, startled like a child caught with an arm halfway in the cookie jar.
“M-Mitosis!” She blurts without thinking, only to shrink in mortification when the rest of the class explodes in  peals of laughter.
Kakashi-sensei quirks a single visible eyebrow in what she assumes is surprise (nobody can really tell what kind of expressions he makes under that weird medical mask and eyepatch anyway.)
Sakura feels forty pairs of eyes on her back, and every head in the front two rows have turned, craning their necks to see the face of the unlucky person who has just embarrassed themselves.
Including Sasuke.
Over his shoulder, he looks right at her; expression as blank as a sheet of paper. She stares right back at him, blinking in astonishment, because it’s the first time they’ve ever made eye contact. And it’s so intense—piercing, even. Like two black holes sucking her in and crushing the oxygen from her lungs with their devastating gravity. Butterflies flap wildly against the walls of her stomach; she thinks she might hurl her breakfast across the room.
When his dark brows furrow marginally (she needs a magnifying glass to be sure) in confusion, her breath hitches violently, and suddenly she feels as naked as a mole rat. Heart stuttering, chest heaving, face flooding with heat, Sakura quickly tries to calm down.
Well if he didn’t notice me before, he definitely notices me now!
“Sakura?” Kakashi-sensei’s usual monotone voice is now laced with concern. She snaps her gaze back to the teacher, mumbling a quick apology before lowering her eyes in shame. The silver-haired man studies her for another moment, as if he’s hesitating whether to ask if she’s alright (as if he’s questioning her sanity), but resumes his lecture after a quiet murmur of ‘Pay attention next time.’
It occurs to her immediately what Sasuke’s first impression of her must be now. She’s just made a complete idiot out of herself in front of the whole class. All because of . . .
Sakura narrows her eyes into dangerous slits, shifting to glare at a certain blonde pig. But she’s not facing Sakura. No. She’s staring straight ahead at the chalkboard, a little too casually to be genuine, twirling a strand of her blonde ponytail nonchalantly. ‘Don’t look at me, I didn’t do anything.’ Ino’s body language says.
Sakura’s fists clench on the table top. She’s positive a deadly miasma is radiating off her at this point, because the guy next to her scoots a few inches away.
“S-Scary . . . “ she thinks she hears him whisper.
Snatching her pen, she scowls down at the crinkled note as if her very eyes could set the paper on fire, before erasing the last sentence she wrote and picking up where she left off.
—are you happy now, pig? Are you? Because you’ve just totally ruined everything with this stupid note. Sasuke-kun probably thinks I’m a dumbass, now. No thanks to you. There goes my chance.
P.S. don’t talk to me for the rest of my life. I hate you.
With that, she balls up the wad of paper with more force than necessary and, as Kakashi-sensei turns back to the chalkboard, she chucks it with all her might across the room, watching with pure satisfaction as it soars downward like a projectile missile—
—only for it to violently smack the head of a very raven-haired baseball captain.
Sakura claps a palm over her gaping mouth to stifle her petrified shriek of terror.
(Oh gods! Oh fuck! No way—!)
She sinks down into her seat immediately, as low as she can physically go, eyes wider than the moon in absolute horror. (Oh gods. Holy shit. No, no, no, no! God, please don’t pick it up—please, please, please—)
Sasuke whips his head behind him, obsidian eyes slit with anger, searching murderously for the culprit as he rubs the side of his head where he was just unforgivably assaulted. Sakura keeps her eyes trained on the notebook before her, nostrils flaring and swallowing roughly against the lump in her throat. Trying to remember everything that was written in the note, she cringes fiercely, her whole body shaking with trepidation. She thinks she might be sick.
‘And you might wanna wipe that drool off your chin, although I suppose Sasuke-kun could lick it off for you.’
‘Lick it off? Oh, pig. I’d let Sasuke-kun do more than just that.’
‘What’s it like, daydreaming about Sasuke-kun’s wet, sloppy kisses? You’ve liked him for like, three years now, Sakura. . . Wrap your cute little ass in a bow and slip him your virginity.’
‘And I definitely do not daydream about his kisses. Okay, maybe just a little . . . ‘
Attempting to swallow again, she gathers the courage to sneak a peek at her impending doom, only for her heart to plummet into her stomach when she sees him finally bend over and pick up the offending wad of paper on the floor by his feet.
Sakura squeezes her eyes shut, bringing a hand to her face in utter mortification, but not before catching the terrified look on Ino’s face as she realizes what has just happened.
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip painfully. There’s no coming back from this. Nope. She can’t even open her eyes. Oh, gods. The sound of light crinkling paper has her sinking even further in her seat. If only the floor could swallow her up.
A few tense seconds tick by, but she’s still too afraid to open her eyes. She knows (she knows) he is reading it. He’s reading it right now.
Goodbye, cruel world. It was fun while it was lasted.
Cracking an eye open, a new tidal wave of humiliation washes over her when she physically sees the note unfurled in his hands. Nope. Mm-mm. This is so not happening. She crosses her arms over the desk and buries her head in the nook of her forearms, wishing and praying and hoping to all the gods that are listening that Sasuke doesn’t hate her. Because, surely, after reading a note like that, he will be so disgusted by her that just looking at her pink head will make him hurl. She probably sounded like such a creep!
Tears prickle her eyes. She never should have entertained Ino’s stupid antics. She should have known.
(You live and you learn.)
Exhaling a shuddering breath, Sakura finally lifts her head up, only to startle forcibly when bottomless black eyes lock with hers.
He’s staring at her shamelessly over his broad shoulder, eyes peeking through his dark fringe, the incriminating note still open in his hands in all its wanton glory. Her lips tremble and she’s positive she looks like a deer caught in headlights.
The bell rings suddenly, ripping through the air and shattering the moment instantaneously. (Oh thank god!) Sakura jumps out of her seat faster than lightning, scraping her notebook into her book bag and slinging it over her shoulder so quickly she almost smacks the guy next to her across the face with it. Kakashi-sensei is announcing something as everyone is gathering their things, but right now she really doesn’t care. Galloping down the stairs between the rows of desks, bumping shoulders with people she doesn’t bother apologizing to, she books it—runs like hell to the door and into the hallway (sweet, sweet freedom) before even Ino can catch up with her. She doesn’t look back.
And she doesn’t see the pair of onyx eyes that follow her out the door.
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Thoughts? I have around 10k words into this story right now, and I am curious if it peaks anyone’s interest :P ciao!
131 notes · View notes
yxppeo · 6 years
Text
wait for me
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pairing: hyunjin x reader
genre: angst, fluff
au: friends to lovers, breakup, college
summary: you thought you’d never see your first love ever again
you and hyunjin go way back
i mean way way back
so let’s have some background about you two
you two met each other in middle school
you were assigned to sit next to him in your science class
and you befriended him right away
you both found a common interest in video games
“is that gta?” you asked hyunjin, pointing out the doodles on his papers
“y-yeah. you like video games?” he said as his eyes lit up
you nodded eagerly
“yes! i love them!”
and since then you two would talk about different video games when you got to class and before the teacher started her lesson
you were more on the tomboy side
so being around hyunjin was comfortable
like you were one of the guys
and the two of you became best friends
hyunjin was always at your side
you two would send each other horrible jokes
“do you want to hear a joke about pizza?”
“let me guess hyunjin, it’s too cheesy?”
“y/n! i was supposed to say that!”
overtime, you two were really close
and you started to develop a crush on him
it started with a classmate that sat near you and hyunjin
you two were laughing as always
when jisung goes
“when are you two going to start dating?” he jokes
you both stopped laughing
and started blushing
around wintertime, your best friend, nayoung, found out that a certain hwang hyunjin had a crush on a certain y/n
of course she told you, and you were red the whole day when your other friend, hyeri, wouldn’t stop teasing you
you kept your giggles to yourself, even with hyunjin around
continuing your jokes, despite your heart beating really fast the whole time
and after science class, he walked you to your next class
and that’s when you confessed to him
“jinnie, i like you.” you said quietly but loud enough only for him to hear
hyunjin smiled widely
“i like you too y/n.” he replied as he ruffled your hair
you walked into your english class with pink cheeks and a big grin
“what happened? did you tell him?” hyeri asked
“he likes me too.” you simply said
causing hyeri to hug you in happiness
hyunjin was the cutest and dorkiest boyfriend
he was shy to hold your hand
and when he did
it would be under the lunch tables as the teachers walked by
he would send you pick up lines that would only make you blush even more
you showed him a love song that reminded you of him
he was blushing while listening to the words
your first date with him was at an amusement park
it was filled with smiles and food
running around to find the different attractions
buying many toys and charms
you bought a snoopy plushie that both of you picked out
you thought it was cute
and it reminded you of hyunjin
you two went on a few rides, like the viking and bumper cars
but at the top of the roller coaster that you convinced hyunjin a thousand times to ride
before the carts could push everyone into the rest of the ride
you suddenly kissed his cheek
making him blush as you screamed in excitement when you accelerated through the tracks
don’t worry
at the top of the ferris wheel, he paid you back by kissing you on the cheek too
making you blush
over the months, you were so happy and in love with him
hyunjin was your first love
and your first kiss
he planted a quick kiss on the lips in front of your friends at your birthday party
immediately followed by screams from said friends
there were many kisses that came after that
in school, he would sneak you to where no one would see you two
or made sure there were no teachers
and he would give you a sweet kiss on the lips
which drove you insane for a fourteen year old
over the next few months, you and hyunjin didn’t talk that much
was it because of schoolwork?
was it because you two were too busy in your hobbies?
you honestly don’t remember
but you knew that you and hyunjin were drifting apart
and sadly
the summer after eighth grade ended
you and hyunjin broke up
hyunjin said that you two weren’t close as you were before
and as sad as you were
you decided not to fight it
and let him be
you remembered crying in your mom’s and dad’s arms
crying in nayoung’s arms as she visited you to make sure you were okay
crying as you saw your old yearbook filled with signatures and messages about you and hyunjin being together forever
tears falling where hyunjin wrote ‘i love you’ as he tried to draw you
laughing as you felt a bittersweet feeling in your heart
thankfully you felt better as time went on
freshman year of high school was so weird
your other peers were just learning that you and hyunjin were no longer together
and it was weird seeing him in a few of your classes
but you both remembered you were friends at first
so you tried to get along with him
it did work most of the time
especially when you were in a group with him
and had to do a project with him
but then you caught feelings again
you missed his hugs
his kisses
his cheesy jokes
unfortunately he did not miss yours
and it became awkward
you two didn’t talk for a long time
you returned your snoopy plushy to hyunjin at school since that was the only time you could see him
and you swore you could see the pain in his eyes as he saw what was in the gift bag
the only time you talked was at the end of the year, joking around like you did in middle school
at least you two weren’t strangers to each other
you felt relieved
but then you remembered one thing
he was moving schools
although it pains you
it also gave you some closure on your relationship with hyunjin
sophomore year came
then junior year
then senior year
you never contacted hyunjin
but he was following your social media
he became more handsome
taller
he worked out more
but he was still the game-loving dork you loved years ago
you also changed too
you swapped out your ugly glasses with contacts
you swapped your old wardrobe for a new style
you discovered how to apply makeup
and even dyed your hair a whole different color
you were a whole new woman
you didn’t really date anyone after hyunjin
hell
you haven’t even kissed anyone since hyunjin
deciding not to focus on relationships
especially since you were starting college
and you really want to focus on your studies and finding a stable job
you went through your first week with a breeze
seeing your old friends even tho it’s just been months since you’ve seen them
smelling the sweet coffee being made by the baristas as you go on your laptop
you got home when you heard your phone ring
‘hyvnjxn sent you a message.’
you had to do a double take
“is that who i think it is?”
you responded to it
and started a conversation with him
“it’s been a while hasn’t it?”
“yeah, it has. how have you been?”
you were shocked that you were actually talking to your ex
your first love
and you two weren’t awkward with each other
at all
it’s like those three years of not contacting each other happened
like you two were still good friends
you were talking to him as if he was one of your best friends
typing in all caps
smashing the keyboard
you found out that hyunjin wanted to serve in the navy
while you wanted to be in criminal justice and become a detective
“i never saw you as an army kind of guy”
“yeah, well i never saw you as a cop”
“…shut up lmao”
you also learned that he moved across the country
so sometimes he would message you while you were sleeping
but it was a nice thing to wake up to
the next few months have been hectic
you were balancing college with your part-time job
and although it can be stressful
hyunjin was there to message you and make sure you were okay
and if you needed to vent
he was there to listen
you both would skype a few times
whether it was just talking to each other face to face while doing homework
or playing games and yelling at each other
“hyunjin you missed that guy! now you gotta run to the other side before his teammates get you!”
“i’m trying my best here! let me live y/n!”
everyday, you kept talking to hyunjin
and before you even knew it
it was time for hyunjin to leave the country to go into the navy
you skyped him for a bit during your break in between classes
“you’re leaving already!”
“i know, i’m so sad.”
“who am i gonna cry to when i don’t have the motivation to do my readings or yell at when i’m playing games?”
hyunjin laughed
“it’s only gonna be two years, then i’ll be back to be yelled at by you.” he smiled
you pouted
“i’m so glad I talked to you – to have you back in my life again.” hyunjin said
you blushed at his words
good thing your laptop camera isn’t that good
“i could say the same to you. i mean, we used to date, you were my first love. i didn’t think i would see you again.”
hyunjin smiled
“you were my first love too. i didn’t think i would even have the balls to talk to you again.” he joked
you two kept talking for another five minutes
“hey, y/n, i really have to go, but i’ll talk to you later?”
“of course. bye hyunjin!” you smiled as you clicked on the end call button
you sighed
“i’m not supposed to love you again.” you thought to yourself
after finishing your last class, you drove home
drowning your thoughts in your music
you sulked into your living room
“why are you so sad for?” a voice called out
you jumped, holding your fists into the air
turning around to see hyunjin with wide eyes
“whoa there. it’s just me.” hyunjin said with his hands up
“h-hyunjin? is that you?!” you said, running towards him
wrapping your arms around his torso
“it’s nice to see you too y/n.” he giggled, engulfing you into a bear hug
you pulled away from him
“what are you doing here?”
“i’m gonna be leaving soon, so why not spend a few days here, with you?”
“with me?”
hyunjin nodded
“yes you, silly. now go get ready!” he said, pushing you towards the stairs
after getting ready and whatnot, you and hyunjin hung out at the mall
eating lunch at the cafe located in it
your friends were spamming you the moment you posted a snap of him
but you didn’t care to answer
you were caught in the moment
looking at hyunjin who sipped on his drink in front of you
you had a bubbly feeling that you haven’t felt in a long time
yet it felt so familiar
“stop looking at me.” hyunjin joked
shaking your thoughts away
“i’m sorry! it’s just feels like a dream. are you really here in front of me?” you said, poking his cheek
hyunjin grabbed your hand, wrapping it with his
“yes, i really am here.”
the next day, hyunjin picked you up from school, and headed straight towards the pier
the same pier with the amusement park you and hyunjin went to on your very first date with each other
“hyunjin!” you called out as he parked the car
you felt tears building up
hyunjin giggled as he unbuckled his seatbelt
“i’m glad you remembered. now come on!”
you two ran into the park like little children
holding hands
“remember when we kissed each other’s cheeks on the roller coaster and the ferris wheel?” hyunjin asked
making you blush a bit
“yes! we were so young back then. look at how much the park has changed.”
you two enjoyed the park’s new attractions
playing the games that took half of your spending money
but it was worth it when hyunjin won you a huge teddy bear
“hyunjin, it’s not gonna fit in your small car!”
“but it’ll fit in your room.” he winked
causing you to slap his shoulder, trying to hide your blushing face
you and hyunjin decided to ride on the roller coaster
the infamous cheek-kissing ride
“you still scared of roller coasters?” you teased hyunjin
“hey! i am not!” he whined
and yet here you two were at the very top of the roller coaster
you really had the balls to look down and look at hyunjin
“you sure you’re not scared?” you smirked
“a little, but i’m not scared of doing this.”
before you could even breathe to ask him what he’s talking about
he quickly cupped your face and planted his lips onto yours
you melted into the kiss as the carts moved forward at a fast speed
screams from other riders blasting through the park
but everything felt like it was in slow-motion
like it was just you and hyunjin in the world
he pulled back near the end of the ride
leaving you looking like a tomato
hyunjin was grabbing your things when you grabbed his hand
interlacing your fingers together
hyunjin smiled as he pulled you away and into the park again
enjoying the night winds
hyunjin dropped you off home, walking you to your door
“i’ll see you tomorrow at the airport?” he said, inches away from you
you felt your heart break a little
you forgot that hyunjin was leaving tomorrow for the navy
“yeah.” you breathed out
“good night y/n.” he said, deeply looking into your eyes
you lifted yourself up with your toes
pulling hyunjin for a kiss
you stayed in that position for a while
until you pulled back and opened the door
leaving hyunjin in a dazed state
you went into your room, placing down the huge bear in the corner of your room, and cried yourself to sleep
despite having the most amazing day ever with hyunjin
the next day rolled in
you found yourself in the freezing airport
you were waiting with hyunjin as he rested on your shoulder
his family that stayed on your side of the country was with you two
waiting for his departure as well
his flight was leaving in half an hour
you looked through your phone
until you heard the call for his flight
“hyunjin, wake up.” you said quietly, patting his cheek
he stirred in his sleep as he slowly got up
“it’s time to go.” you said with a small, yet painful smile
hyunjin reflected your smile, rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb
you walked him to his terminal
“i guess this is goodbye.” hyunjin said
that bittersweet feeling you knew too well filled your body
you couldn’t say anything to him
you just hugged him, squeezing him tightly
letting your tears ruin his shirt
“i’m gonna miss you a lot.” you said, muffled by his chest
hyunjin chuckled
“i’ll call you when i can.” he said
you looked up at him
hyunjin instantly wiped your tears with his thumbs
giving you the sweetest smile
“wait for me.” he quietly said, kissing your forehead
“i love you.” he added
“i love you too hyunjin.” you said, trying not to choke up
he pulled away, said his goodbyes to his family and started walking towards the boarding bridge
you sniffled as he turned around and waved to you
you couldn’t help but smile as more tears ran down your face as you watched him walk through the doorway
but wait, there’s more
two years without physically seeing hyunjin seemed like forever
but you distracted yourself with your friends, schoolwork, and your job
you were in your third year of university
you found a paid internship at the police department
and they guaranteed you a position after you graduate from the police academy
you were ahead of your classes, so that meant a lot of down time for you
you hung out with your friends on weekends doing whatever you felt like doing
whether it was shopping
eating
or watching cheesy romcoms
which reminded you of hyunjin
laughing to yourself as you remembered you both loved horror and action movies more
your friends were quite shocked at how well you were doing without him
but little did they know
you two were still in contact
you never told them about your late night skype calls whenever he was available
you two would eat while video chatting
taking him with you while you ran errands
even falling asleep while on the call
“y/n, you haven’t been on a date in forever!” nayoung yelled
“you haven’t dated anyone since hyunjin, and he’s literally the only guy you’ve dated.” hyeri said
“i am literally right next to you. i can hear you loud and clear.” you said, rubbing your ears as you and your best friends continued walking through campus
“yeah, why don’t we set you up with that cute guy from your english class?” hyeri added in, taking in a bite of her sandwich
“i’m not interested.” you chuckled
“you haven’t even tried to mingle with anyone once during college, and we have a year left here.”
“you even shot down the guy who was totally flirting with you when we were shopping.”
“i thought he was being nice!” you exclaimed
“but seriously, it’s no big deal. you don’t have to worry about my love life.”
“you sure you don’t want me to find someone for you?”
“i can hook you up!”
you looked ahead to see a tall figure wearing camouflage
instantly making eye contact with them
once you realized who it was
you two broke into the biggest smiles
“i think i’ll be just fine.”
you ran towards the figure and leaped onto him
wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders as he lifted you up
not caring that there were people staring
“hyunjin!” you said as tears were already spilling from your eyes
“holy shit.” nayoung and hyeri said as their jaws dropped
“i see you’ve missed me badly.” hyunjin laughed as he held you
“of course i did!” you said as he lowered you onto the ground
planting a sweet and chaste kiss on your lips
you couldn’t help but blush at the familiar feeling
“i hope you didn’t wait for me for too long.” hyunjin said
“for you, i’d wait forever.”
147 notes · View notes
krreader · 6 years
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BTS (Hogwarts!AU) scenario → falling for a Hufflepuff!Reader.
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pairing: bts x hufflepuff!reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; hogwarts!au genre: fluff
a/n: do you know how long I’ve been meaning to write something related to harry potter? AGES. so thank you for requesting a hogwarts!au bb! I hope you like it!!!
ask box | masterlist | fandoms | faq | multifandom reader blog
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kim seokjin
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Jin had been flirting with you for a while now, but in a subtle way that often had you wonder whether or not he was really interested in you.
It was a few compliments here, a few 'dates' (that almost always had other people come with you as well) there and now you had already been playing this game for over two months and you couldn't help but think he didn't like you as much as you liked him.
Until the day he approached you in the hallway and grabbed your hand to pull you aside before you could go to class.
“What do you think about a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff going to the Yule Ball together?”
Slowly, a smile crept onto your face, when you saw his suggestive grin, “I'd think it's a great idea. Why? Are you asking for a friend?”
“I might be,” he chuckled, “Or, I might be asking for myself, wondering if you'd like to go with me.”
And here you had worried..
min yoongi
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Yoongi was really unsure about approaching you, mainly because Slytherin's didn't really do relationships outside of their own house, or at least most people didn't.
However he had been watching you for a while now and couldn't help but love every little thing about you. He actually really liked the fact that you were a Hufflepuff and he loved the way you were embracing it (also, yellow really was your color, if he might say so).
But it wasn't just where you had been sorted into, but your overall self that he was infatuated with. Your looks, your personality, your laugh, your smile. It was just all perfect for him. You were perfect to him.
It was one of those days where he was watching you from afar yet again, when you noticed it for the first time. You noticed his house first and had expected him to laugh at you or something, because that's what most Slytherin's did nowadays, but he actually just smiled in the most handsome way possible that had you blush incredibly hard.
Maybe this would work out, after all.
jung hoseok
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“What's up with you today?” you chuckled as you fell down next to Hoseok on the couch in your common room, “What happened? Something related to Mina?”
“Would you be jealous if so?”
Yes, “No,” you lied, snorting as if it was the most ridiculous thing in the world, “So.. did you and her finally go out or what?”
“No. I didn't see her. Ever, actually,” Hoseok grinned, turning his upper body, so that he could properly look at you, “See, (Y/N), when I told you I had a crush on this amazing girl from our house that was the prettiest in the world, you were the one that spun the tale that it was Mina. I never said that it was her, though, did I?”
“Well, who else would it be, then? Everyone says she's the prettiest.”
“True. But I don't think she is. To me, there is this one girl, that is actually in this room right now, that is way prettier.”
A quick look around made you realize that the only people in this room were guys and then there was..-
Your eyes widened as you slowly turned your head back to look at Hoseok, your friend laughing at you, “Wondered how long it would take you to finally figure it out.”
“Why didn't you say something?!” you gently hit his arm, “You knew I liked you!”
“It was fun, to be honest,” seeing you all jealous when there was absolutely no reason to be, because it’s always been you.
Only you.
kim namjoon
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They always say that Ravenclaws were the smartest of the school, but he had no doubt that you were one of the smartest girls he had ever met in his life and you were a Hufflepuff, so.. that was nothing but a prejudice.
You and Namjoon often studied together, simply because he seemed to have the same goals in life as you, but while you only ever focused on your books and notes in front of you, he seemed to focus on nothing but you.
It was becoming harder and harder for him to concentrate when you were sitting so close next to him that he could smell your perfume. When all he had to do was lean forward a tiny bit to press his lips against your beautiful skin and when it was so easy for him to get lost in your eyes and..-
“Namjoon?” you cocked your head to your side, “Are you.. alright?”
Shit, you had caught him staring.
He quickly shook his head, then started laughing, “Sorry. Yeah.. everything's fine.”
One day.. one day he would ask you out. He promised himself.
park jimin
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Park Jimin was without a doubt one of the most attractive guys that Hogwarts had to offer. He had no problems when it came down to girls, most of them pretty much lining up to do as much as talk to him.
However there was one girl.
One girl from Hufflepuff that he couldn't get the attention from that he desired. And he didn't know whether it was the challenge that he liked, or the fact that you weren't like the others.
Today, like all the others, he ran after you when you were on your way to class to talk to you.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“Jimin,” you said plainly, but with a kind smile, completely unimpressed otherwise, however.
“What do you say.. do you want to grab butterbeer with me later?”
“No, I need to study, but thanks for the offer,” you turned left to go into your classroom and Jimin couldn't help but bite on his lip with a grin, thinking to himself: 'I know you like me as much as I like you'
And when you were sure that he was gone, you turned around and smiled again, a bit shyly this time.
Who would have thought that THE Park Jimin was interested in you?
kim taehyung
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Taehyung and you had been friends since you had both been sorted into the same house, maybe he could even be considered one of your best friends.
But somewhere along your years together, your friendship blossomed into something more the older you got.
And here you were, still joking around like you used to, but with the occasional kiss that was being dropped onto your lips as he pulled you towards him.
“We shouldn't do that here,” you laughed against his lips, “What if somebody finds us?”
Well, you shouldn't have said it out loud, because the second you did, you could hear someone clear his throat and when you turned around, you found Professor Dumbledore standing in front of you both, Taehyung and you jumping away from each other like you were fire.
“Please.. don't let me disturb you,” he continued walking, turning around before he could disappear in another hallway and said with a grin, “Have fun, children.”
Oh well, it could have been Snape to find you making out like this and that would have been a lot worse.
jeon jeongguk
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Jeongguk was just minding his business, being one of the first in class as always and doodling something into his sketchbook while looking outside every once in a while when he needed a little bit of inspiration.
It was only when a familiar laugh echoed through the classroom that he looked up.
And whatever inspiration he needed, he got it when he saw you.
He didn't know what it was about you, but whenever you entered a room, he was filled with happiness and content. He couldn't remember just how many pictures he had drawn of you and stored somewhere where nobody would find them (yes, he might have learned a spell for storing his drawings away, just so he could protect this secret of his), hoping that one day he would have the courage to ask you out.
But for now, he would just stare at you with a small smile, as you sat down next to one of your friends from your house and draw yet another picture of you, coloring it at night only with a bit of yellow.
It needed to be accurate after all, right?
675 notes · View notes
cas-lost-grace · 7 years
Note
sorry to bother but could you write the “I accidentally took your notebook thinking it was mine and you have really nice handwriting and cute doodles” with punk!artist!cas? Like dean accidentally takes cas' notebook and sees a few sketches of a person who looks a lot like him on the last page? idk, i'm so bad at sending prompts haha
Dean is staring at the shelf where the book is supposed to be. He looks at nearby shelves too but it’s nowhere to be seen. He doesn’t necessarily need this exact book but his teacher said it’s the best when it comes to Renaissance painting and the online catalog said it’s not borrowed so it should be here! Disappointed, Dean turns away to leave and then he sees it. The thick book is lying right there on the table. Dean looks at the guy sitting there and freezes.
They don’t have any classes together but Dean has seen him on the campus. He’s kind of hard not to notice with the blue strands in his hair, piercings and various tattoos covering his arms revealed by a black tank top.
Dean watches him as he plays with his lip ring, immersed in reading. Dean’s eyes travel over his figure and stop on the tattered bag lying by his feet. It’s covered by a collection of badges claiming him out and proud in many creative ways.
Dean looks back up at the guy’s face. He’s attractive in a unique way. Dean feels his heart beating faster and he mentally scolds himself. The fact that he’s gay and attractive doesn’t change anything. He’s not the kind of person Dean would ever gather the courage to approach. Not if he hadn’t to. But he needs the book.
"Ehm, hey?"
He looks up and Dean almost gasps. It’s not only that his face is beautiful, there’s something so intense in his look that it takes Dean’s breath away.
He gives Dean a once-over before he speaks in a voice so deep it gives Dean shivers. "Hello."
"Hi, uhm, I need this book," Dean says eloquently pointing at the book and cursing himself for sounding like an idiot.
"I need it too," the guy says and returns his attention to the book he’s been studying.
Dean takes a deep breath to steady himself. "But you’re not reading it now."
"I’m going to read it in a minute," he says without looking at Dean.
"Fine, can I borrow it for the minute you’re not reading it?"
Blue eye look into his and he feels like his soul is being examined. The guy runs the tip of his tongue over his pierced lip drawing Dean’s attention to it and sending a rush of blood to Dean’s cheeks and other parts of his body.
"Alright," he says at last and gestures at the seat at the other side of the table.
Dean hurriedly takes the seat and grabs the book. He feels nervous and clumsy like he’s been watched but when he looks up, his new study partner is focused on his reading.
"I’m Dean," Dean says trying to break the weird tension he feels.
"Good for you."
"And you are?"
"Trying to study."
Dean rolls his eyes and grabs the book. He didn’t come to make friends after all.
 After a moment he gets lost in the book. He reads and makes notes and forgets he’s not alone right until a hand with colorful flowers tattooed on its back knocks on the page he’s reading. He looks up and blinks at his companion and realizes it’s been much more than a minute, more like an hour. He steels himself for being yelled at but the guy’s face is soft.
"I’m gonna need it now." His voice is still rough as if he’s been gurgling razor-blades, but the cold undertone is gone.
"Yeah, yeah of course," Dean mumbles and pushes the book towards him.
"You might like this one." He says offering Dean the book he’s been reading.
"What is it?"
"It’s Vasari. He was an artist but he’s more famous for writing about the lives of great artists. It’s actually the first book on art history that’s ever been written."
"Wow, that... that sounds great, thanks," Dean takes the book and his heart skips a beat with surprise when those pierced lips turn up in a small smile.
"So you study history too?" Dean asks.
He shakes his head. "Art."
"Well, that explains why I never saw you in any of my classes."
The guy opens his mouth to say something but then remains silent.
"So you paint like this?" Dean points at one of the reproductions in the book.
The answer is a soft laughter that makes Dean’s heart flutter. "No, not at all. But you need to know the art history, to understand the... evolution of visual thinking to improve your own artistic skills."
"Wow. I thought it’s just grabbing some brushes and paints and making a lot of mess until it turns into art."
"Yeah, a lot of that too."
This time they laugh together. A warm feeling spreads through Dean’s chest.
"I’m Castiel, by the way."
Dean grins. "Nice to meet you, Cas."
They end up talking. Cas shows him the most important pictures in the book and tells him what he’s already learned about them. The only bad thing about it is that it takes Dean a lot of energy to stay focused on what he’s saying instead of just staring at his face that is even more handsome when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about.
"So, uhm... see you around?" Dean says when he gathers his things. He’d love to stay longer but he has to pick Sam up and make him dinner.
"Of course," Cas gives him one of his small smiles running his hand through his black and blue hair and Dean wonders what it would feel like to do the same. Would Cas like it? Dean shakes himself.
"Alright. Yeah. Bye. Thank you for... for everything. Bye"
"Bye, Dean."
Dean almost runs out of the library, his cheeks burning.
 By the time Dean gets home, he’s cursing himself. He can’t stop thinking about Castiel. About his blue eyes that sparkled when he was talking about art, about his fluffy hair and his soft lips and pointy tongue that kept poking at his piercing. About his bare muscular shoulder that kept brushing against Dean’s when Cas finally sat next to him so they could look into the book together. Most of all Dean can’t stop thinking about how stupid he was for not asking Cas for a phone number.
Angrily he shakes out the content of his bag on his bed and frowns when he sees an unfamiliar notebook. He grabs it and sits down. It’s probably Cas’, he must have accidentally taken it when they were packing their things. He hesitates just a moment before he opens it. He has to make sure it’s Cas’, right? His heart beats a bit faster than it should as he lists through the notes.
There are poems, or maybe song lyrics and doodles, lots of them. Some are cartoonish, others realistic. People, plants, anything that caught Cas’ attention.
And then Dean’s heart stops.
At first, he just registers that the face is familiar, but when he looks closer he realizes it’s his own. Page after page filled with scatches of him. The ones on the last page are the most detailed. Castiel must have made them today when Dean was reading. But the others are older. Dean’s hands shake when he closes the notebook.
"Shit," he breathes out.
 Finding the art studio on campus isn’t that hard, but actually going there and waiting for Cas is. Dean is clutching the notebook to his chest like a shield and jumps every time he sees someone approaching. But Cas is nowhere in sight and Dean is chewing his lips raw. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this nervous. Maybe Cas doesn’t have a class today. Maybe he’s sick. Maybe he saw Dean pacing the hall and ran off. It would be much more reasonable to just give up and take the notebook to the lost and found box in the library.
"Dean?"
Dean startles and turns in the direction of the familiar deep voice. His heart is beating so hard it must be visible.
"H-hey! I-" it’s too hard to talk around the lump in his throat so Dean just waves the notebook in front of Cas.
Castiel’s eyes widen and all color drains off his face. He snatches the notebook from Dean’s hand.
"You left it in the library," Dean says defensively. He expected a lot of things but not Cas looking so angry.
Frowning, Castiel presses the notebook to his chest protectively. "Did you look into it?"
"Yeah, I-"
"I just draw whatever I find visually interesting, okay? It’s not like I’ve been stalking you!"
Dean gapes at him, taken aback by his defensiveness.
"Yeah, I know I just... why?"
Cas’ frown deepens. "Why what?"
"When I came to talk to you, why were you so... hostile?"
Cas’ brows rise in surprise, then he shakes his head and the frown returns. "I wanted to draw you, not talk to you."
It’s like a punch in the gut. Dean feels as if his blood is turning into ice. "Okay. Fine. Sorry for taking it. Bye."
He turns away and heads down the hall. He’s been so stupid. How could he think someone like Castiel might like him? And now Cas is going to look into the notebook and find the phone number Dean scribbled there. He’s gonna have a good laugh about it.
"Dean, wait!"
Dean stops but he doesn’t turn until he hears quick footsteps behind him.
"Dean, I... I’m sorry, I-"
Oh. He saw the number and came to explain Dean it’s been a misunderstanding and he’s not interested. He’s a decent person after all.
"Look, it’s okay, Cas, I-."
"No, wait!" he cuts Dean off and lets out a sigh. "I’m sorry, Dean. I lied to you. I actually..." he’s staring at his hands clutching the notebook. His cheeks are turning redder by second. "I didn’t want to talk to you because I made a picture of you in my head when I was drawing you and I was scared you’d disappoint me."
Somebody must have sucked all the air out of the room because it’s suddenly really hard to breathe.
"And did I? Disappoint you?" Dean asks, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Castiel looks up and meets his eyes. There’s the same intensity in his stare as the first time and Dean’s getting weak at the knees.
"You surpassed my wildest fantasy."
Maybe this all is just a wild fantasy. But Dean doesn’t care. He takes a step closer to Cas, entering his personal space and he sees Cas’ eyes darting to his lips.
"Roadhouse. At seven?" he says, still feeling short of breath.
"As in a date?" Cas asks and is it even possible that his voice dropped even lower?
"Yeah, I... I really need to find out what does the piercing feel like," Dean says, laughing. His brain must have short-circuited and he lost control over what he’s saying.
Cas’ tongue automatically peaks out, teasing.
"Well, you should rather find out now. You never know what might happen before seven. Alien invasion, meteorite, nuclear w-"
Dean cuts him off with a kiss. And it feels awesome.
618 notes · View notes
dragon-temeraire · 7 years
Text
Hot Docent
Summary: Stiles usually doesn’t have any trouble concentrating on drawing when he’s at the museum, but lately he’s been very distracted by someone with a wonderful voice and a perfect jawline.
Notes: Written for the museum AU on this post. (On AO3)
The Beacon Hills Art Museum isn’t the greatest, no. But it’s free for college students and always peaceful and quiet, so Stiles shows up pretty often anyway.
The museum has recently put several new pieces on display, which is great for Stiles because it gives him new things to sketch, but it also sucks, because now there’s a bunch of other people showing up to look at them. Noisy, distracting people.
Usually the tours only happen every few hours, because visitors so rarely want to go on one, but today it feels like they’re happening every twenty minutes. Often enough to keep him from concentrating on his drawing, anyway.
He’s been pointedly trying to tune out the tour guides’ rote speeches every time they come through the wing he’s in, but this time he can’t quite do it. There’s something about this docent’s voice—it’s warm and pleasant, and unlike some of the other docents, he doesn’t sound bored.
Stiles lifts his pencil from the paper, intrigued. He’s facing away from the group, so his mind has already conjured up an image of what the lovely-voice docent looks like. But when he casually turns around to have a look, he finds that he’s very wrong.
He’s wildly torn between the descriptors handsome and beautiful, and he can’t help but stare as the docent explains the significance of the painting hanging behind him. The entire tour group is giving him their full attention, and Stiles completely understands why.
He finds himself longing to draw Ridiculously Hot Docent, even though his usual subject matter is stuff like robots and mythical creatures.
He knows he’d never be able to capture that handsome-beauty on paper, anyway.
He’s more than a little disappointed when RHD leads his group away, and Stiles tries to listen to him as long as he can.
 *
 When Stiles visits the museum the next week, he’s delighted to see that Hot Docent is there again. He’s is tempted to join his tour group, just for kicks, but he has his sketchbook and an assignment that’s due in a couple of days, so he has to get to work.
He does take a little break when Hot Docent leads a tour through, passionately describing different eras of art history, and after he’s gone, Stiles finds himself idly sketching his perfect jawline and stubble. When he realizes what he’s doing, he rolls his eyes at himself and scribbles over it.
 *
 The popularity of the new exhibit must be waning, because there’s no tour group to disturb him the next week. He gets to spend hours drawing the bronze tiger statue in the east wing with absolutely no distractions.
He tries to pretend he’s not disappointed.
 *
 When there’s no appearance of Hot Docent the next week, Stiles goes looking for him. He roams through both main wings, and even goes out to the small relaxation garden, with its fancifully shaped topiaries. He makes a couple of quick sketches while he’s there, but then he continues his search.
He swings by the entry desk, and even checks the children’s arts and crafts room. There’s a lot of tiny masterpieces on the wall, but no docents at all. Stiles sits down in one of the tiny chairs and doodles a happy little robot on a scrap of paper, and he sticks it to the cup of pencils and markers before he goes.
 *
 Stiles is considering changing his usual museum day. Sure, he’s been super productive these last few weeks, but he at least wanted a chance to talk to (and probably get shot down by) Hot Docent.
Or, at the very least, find out his actual name.
Stiles can only guess that he either moved on from his museum job, or he got a shift on a different day. He’s really hoping it’s the latter, because otherwise he’ll probably never see him again.
He considers asking at the front desk, but going up and saying “do you know when the hot guy with the perfect stubble and the amazing voice works?” would be pretty weird. He has a couple of friends that work non-docent jobs at the museum, and he considers asking them too, but they’d know right away that it was another one of his hopeless crushes.
Stiles tries to push the Hot Docent issue to the back of his mind, and focus on the tree he’s sketching instead. It has a smooth, flowing texture in the painting, and Stiles can’t quite capture it, no matter how hard he tries.
He’s putting in some light shading, hoping that helps, when he hears footsteps approaching. “Hey, that’s really good,” says a very familiar voice.
Stiles turns, and there, taking a seat on the bench next to him, is Hot Docent. Or maybe just Hot Guy, because he’s in his regular clothes, not the museum uniform. He somehow looks even better than he did a few weeks ago, which is completely unfair.
Stiles swallows, trying to find his voice. “Not as good as that,” he says, nodding toward the painting. It’s better than staring awkwardly.
“You’re trying to get that movement, huh?” he says perceptively. “I’ve always found this work very soothing because of that implied motion.”
“Do you talk about it on your tours, then?” Stiles says, glancing at him curiously.
“Sometimes. Depends on how well we’re moving along. Our guided tours aren’t supposed to be longer than an hour, so sometimes you have to skip things,” he explains.
Stiles nods. “But no tours from you today, I’m guessing?”
“No,” he says, smiling. “I had to cover some shifts on Wednesday because of how well-received the exhibit was, but I’m back to my usual Tuesdays.”
“The number of people that showed up surprised me, too,” Stiles says. “And I’m Stiles, by the way,” he says, because he feels like they’re more than due for an introduction.
“Stiles Stilinski, right?” he says, nodding, and Stiles’ raises his eyebrows in surprise.
“Um, yeah?” he confirms, wondering if he should be worried.
“Some of my co-workers kind of consider you a fixture here,” he explains. “So I’ve heard about you. And I’m Derek Hale,” he adds with a smile.
Stiles grins. “I’m guessing one of the people who told you about me was Allison.” He’s been friends with her for years, after they met in French Art History class, and they stayed in contact even after she graduated from college.
“Yeah. I asked her about the cute little robot drawing in the craft room, and she immediately knew it was yours,” Derek says.
“Well, of course. She’s always been a fan of my art, she has very discerning taste,” Stiles jokes.
“She does,” Derek says, completely genuine. “She says you come here to draw every week.”
“Yeah, pretty much,” Stiles says, shrugging. “Who better to learn from than the people good enough to show up in a museum?”
“I suppose that’s true,” Derek says. “If showing up in a museum is your end goal.”
Stiles laughs. “Ah, I’m still trying to figure that out. Here, have a look at this,” he says, flipping to the drawing of the tiger statue he did last week.
“Wow, that’s amazing,” Derek says, gently taking the sketchbook out of Stiles’ hands and peering at it closely. “You made it look better than it actually does.”
“Nah, I just gave it better lighting,” Stiles says, shrugging. “Thanks, though. I was proud of the way it turned out.”
Derek nods. “You should consider submitting something for the Local Artists Exhibit that’s coming up.”
“Oh, I have just the thing,” Stiles snorts, flipping to a different page. He’d spent hours sketching one of the gallery’s layouts, because he’d been so taken with it—it had featured a series of paintings of the ocean, and they’d been arranged on the wall in a flowing wave pattern, drawing the eye smoothly from start to finish.
Derek’s eyes widen when he sees it. “You liked that, huh?”
“Yeah,” Stiles says excitedly, because no one ever seems to appreciate the artistic ways some exhibits are displayed. “It was really captivating, and it gave extra power to the ocean imagery, making all the works feel connected even though they were from different artists. And it caught the eye way more than the usual row of paintings hung at the same height.”
Derek smiles then. “It was my idea to arrange them like that, so it’s good to know someone appreciated it.”
“It was awesome,” Stiles says, and doesn’t miss the pink on Derek’s cheeks. “I went in there all the time while that exhibit was up.”
“I helped display paintings at The Gallery on Fifth before I came here, so I’ve had some practice,” Derek says, still looking a little embarrassed. “Well, Allison told me not to bother you too much, so I better get going.”
“Wait, you’re not bothering me—” Stiles tries, but Derek is already gone. He sighs and flips the sketchbook closed.
He’s done for the day anyway.
There’s no way he can concentrate on his art now, not after seeing Derek smile and blush like that.
 *
 Stiles definitely considers showing up on Tuesday instead, since Derek mentioned that was the day he worked, but decides that might be too weird. Besides, Lydia has told him numerous times that people don’t usually want to be hit on while they’re working, so.
He ends up going on his usual Wednesday. It’s pretty much completely empty, and Stiles figures that’s because most of the other college students who come here are holed up in the library, studying for their midterms. Stiles has managed to stay on top of things this semester, so he doesn’t feel the need to cram.
Instead he begins to sketch a painting of a dove, marveling at the way the artist managed to make it look kind and gentle. It’s in the eye, Stiles is pretty sure.
He’s drawing the curve of a wing when he hears, “Hey,” and Derek sits down next to him, giving him a shy smile.
“I lost my nerve last time, so I’m just going to do it now,” he says determinedly, and Stiles sets his pencil down, giving Derek his full attention. “Would you—” he tries, then shakes his head. “Do you want to go to dinner with me? Or a movie? Or maybe—”
“Derek,” Stiles cuts in, halting his nervous ramble. “I would love to go on a date with you.”
“Really? I mean, okay,” Derek gets out, blushing a little. It’s adorable. “Yes, good. Tonight?”
“Yeah,” Stiles says easily, giving Derek a smile. “Dinner tonight sounds great.”
Derek smiles back, and Stiles feels his heart flutter pleasantly.
He has a feeling that Derek is going to end up in his sketchbook after all. There’s no way Stiles can resist drawing something as beautiful as that smile.  
252 notes · View notes
khaelisfics · 7 years
Text
The Paper Plane
Fandom : Doctor Who - AU Pairing : Ten x Rose Rating : General
Read on AO3
Little did Rose know the handsome man she’d been sketching for almost a year was completely bonkers. But was he, really?
This is actually an October prompt from @doctorroseprompts​, but I stumbled upon it today and I got inspired! A short one-shot, a different take on how the Doctor and Rose met!
I hope you’ll like it! :)
She rummaged through her pink backpack for a moment, and found her small sketchpad and her favorite pencil - a cheap brand she had used for years, because she liked the feel of it in her hand and how it ran smoothly on her paper. She took a glance at her surroundings, and something akin to disappointment made a soft sigh fly from her lips. He was nowhere in sight.
That old bench under the big oak had become her treasured spot a few months back. Ever since she’d seen him for the first time. At first, she’d been coming here for the strings of people rushing down the street, the lazy ones wandering around with a carton cup of coffee in their hands, the old ones walking their tiny dogs and chattering away about the latest neighbourhood gossip. She loved to capture all those irrelevant moments in her sketchpad, slices of life that made it so much more interesting to draw those faces. Spontaneous expressions, natural features, true feelings. So different from drawing all those models that stood before her in class.
And then, one day, she had been enthralled by him. 
A tall man that had been standing at the corner of the coffee shop, long enough for her to draw his face to the shallowest crinkle at the corner of his eyes. She had been fascinated by those features and those proportions. Nothing seemed right about them, and yet the whole ensemble just worked. A left eyebrow that stood high on his forehead above an eye that was just slightly bulgier than the other. A not-quite crooked nose that tended to deviate on the right. A pouty lower lip that somehow compensated for the inexistent upper one. Old-fashioned sideburns that managed to make his face look thinner than it already was and that ran up his temples to melt into a mane of brown silky spikes. Each element taken on its own wasn’t necessarily pretty, but when put together they created the most handsome face she’d seen a man wear.
And she’d had more than enough time to study that face - because she had seen him more than once in the corner of that coffee shop. She never knew why he stood there like a flower pot, but she never complained. Sometimes, she’d even feel like he was there just for her, striking poses, a hand on his hip, the other tugging at his hair, crossing his ankles or leaning back against the brick wall. Of course, he wasn’t, really. She just fancied the idea.
She opened her sketchbook on a blank page and looked around again to find the subject of her next drawing, but nothing caught her eye. If he wasn’t so much on her mind, she might have deemed worthy to sketch that small boy, a baseball cap screwed on the top of his blond curls, merrily licking at a colorful icecream. She brought the tip of her pencil to the paper, and with a resolved puff, she started drawing. Each brush of her pencil against the smooth white surface gave more life to his face, and she was almost scared to know all of his features so well. And rather ashamed to use that knowledge for… What she’d had trouble defining as anything other than lustful fantasies.
Within minutes, a three-quarter view of his face was staring back at her - well, given the eyes squinted shut and the pouty mouth hanging half-open in a silent cry of pleasure she had given him, it was more the other way around.
“Is my left ear that wonky?”
She shrieked when that melodious sing-sang close to her ear and she fumbled to close her sketchbook holding a terrifying amount of very personal fantasies. But a slender hand was faster than her, keeping it open on the one page she had been working on. She was tempted to run away and leave all of her stuff behind, but it was too late. He was already jumping over the back of the bench and sliding to sit uncomfortably close to her - which made it impossible to stop a raging blush setting her cheeks on fire. A quick look on the left and she was sure that it was him. The pinstriped suit, the long brown coat, the deep red tie. Crap.
“I’m so sorry,” she managed to apologize after clearing her throat several times.
“Not at all, in fact, I think you’re right,” he smiled, tugging on his ear. “It is wonky. And to be honest with you, I think all the rest is pretty wonky too. I mean, look at that eye!”
She stiffened when he bent to stick his face mere inches away from her, so close she could feel his hot breath on her jaw and had no choice but to look at his bright chocolate eyes gleaming with a twinkle of cheekiness. Beautiful eyes she would have gladly drowned into if the intensity of their gaze wasn’t stealing away to her last ounce of coherence.
“Is that why you keep drawing me?” he asked - and she wished the floor would swallow her alive. “Because my face is so wonky it’s interesting to draw?”
“No,” she breathed out, finding out it was a bad move to lower her eyes when they fell on those very pretty lips.
“Oh, is it because you like my face, then?” he beamed.
Her blush got worse, if that was even possible, and his smile got brighter, if that was even possible.
“You do like my face!” he giggled, a very communicative giggle that had her laugh despite her shame. “Well, I must say, coming from such a beautiful woman, that is a compliment. By the way, what’s your name, dear lady?”
“Rose, Rose Tyler,” she shrugged, nervously tapping the lead of her pencil against her sketchpad. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, I just…”
“Nonsense,” he interrupted, finally allowing her to breathe properly as he stood from the bench. “You have quite the talent, miss Tyler, I am thrilled to be one of your subjects. It means… Quite a lot to me, that you fancy this face.”
“What do you mean, this face?” Rose raised an eyebrow.
“Well, this face is not my first, and won’t be my last,” he answered with a grin. “That one is actually quite recent, and I’m still not quite used to it. Hence, I like that you like it.”
“Of course,” she nodded, thinking she might have stumbled upon a mad man.
“Yep, two months old,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “The ear might be wonky, but it’s better than it was. My previous ears were too big. So was my nose. Miss the blue eyes, though.”
“I’m sure you do,” she smiled uneasily, stuffing her sketchpad in her backpack, thinking it might be best to run away as fast as she could.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“No, I don’t. Look, I should…”
“I’m an alien, miss Tyler. And I can assure you, my face can change. And I got that wonky face two months ago.”
“Yes, that’s probably why I first sketched your face almost a year ago,” she sighed, disappointed that this handsome man was also completely bonkers.
“Oh, that’s because I can travel in time!” he grinned, following in her footsteps when she started to walk away. “I’m the Doctor. Time Lord, from the planet Gallifrey.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Doctor from Gallifrey, but I have a class that starts in twenty minutes and I need to go.”
“Right, of course,” he nodded, stopping in his tracks as she started to climb down the stairs into the tube station. “I’ll see you soon, Rose Tyler!”
***
Rose was bored out of her mind. She loved drawing, she loved art, but she most definitely hated those art history lessons. The page of her notepad was still desperately blank despite the lesson having started more than half an hour back, apart from a few doodles she’d scribbled on the corners. At least, she’d been smart enough to sit in the last row of the auditorium, which allowed her to doze off, her face cradled in the palm of her hand.
She jumped when something hit her arm and looked down on her smell desk to see the projectile. A paper plane. She spotted a few lines of graphite on the wings, and, thinking she could use the distraction, she began to unfold it. Her breath remained trapped halfway in when she saw what the drawing was. Him , again. But she was most certain she had never drawn him with that face, in this position - a face that seemed to be asleep, buried in a pillow, the pouty mouth she liked open in what she could imagine to be a soft snore. She noticed that this drawing was even more detailed that hers, with a little something she couldn’t quite see that made it look more realistic. More accurate. More intimate. The kind of details that clearly meant that whoever had drawn this must have spent quite a long time on his side.
Then she saw the few words written under the drawing, and an odd feeling coursed through her. This was her handwriting. Sharp, little letters that read, Trust him, he’s the Doctor, along with a smiley face that had become one of her signatures over the years. And under that, a date. More than five years into the future. It didn’t make any sense. She wanted to laugh at herself for even considering that what this man had told her might be true. A time traveller. An alien. Right. She flipped the bent page over and was surprised to find a few other lines - still her handwriting, but the hurried kind, the undefined letters melting into each other, translating into three short sentences.
Trust me and take his hand. Go with him. He needs you. Rose
Rose rotated on her seat and glanced at the door in the back of the auditorium. Sure enough, the first thing she saw was his face, comically taking a peek at her with a sheepish smile. And then she saw his hand and his wiggling fingers, an invitation for her to join him. She stared at the unfolded paper plane for a few seconds, then at the boring teacher who was still talking about boring facts with his boring voice, then back to the paper plane again.
She grabbed her backpack, shoved her notepad inside, folded the paper plane and tucked it inside her pocket.
A minute later, her fingers wrapped around his, a smile was exchanged, and they both stepped into the weird alien blue box that was bigger on the inside.
Two days later, she decided that she never wanted to leave the Doctor and his wonderful ship.
Three weeks later, she already promised him that she would never leave him.
Four years later, after they’d both acknowledged their feelings and made love for the first time, she drew his sleeping, peaceful face on the page that would eventually be folded into a paper plane.
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musicphanpie-b · 7 years
Text
Moonlight
Virgil remembered the relationship he had with Roman.
Ship: Prinxiety Genre: College!au, angst, past-relationship Warning: mention of arranged relationship
————————————————————— Standing outside of his house, Virgil stood under the bright moonlight, feeling the light breeze of mid-night air brushed his cheeks. He pulled the black hoodie around him tighter and followed the familiar path to his left.
A year ago
Virgil waited at the school gate for his best friend after school. Feeling embarrassed around the streams of students pouring out through the gate in groups, he hugged himself and stared at the concrete floor around him, willing no one to see him by himself. Alone.
Suddenly, a hand slapped on his shoulder and Virgil looked to his right, startled, only to find Roman grinning, happy with his silly prank as if it didn’t just almost give Virgil a heart attack.
“Hey.” He was still grinning. Virgil glared at him, which only made his grin more mischievous.
After a while of glaring, Virgil realized it was useless and he sighed,“ Why did I choose you to be my best friend.”
“Because I am awesome?” That grin was back and his eyes twinkled.
“Nah, you are just my only choice,” Roman raised his eyebrows, looking baffled, and Virgil started to walk away quickly, seemingly done with his best friend’s terrible humour.
“Wait up!” Roman shouted and ran to catch up to Virgil. “So you mean you would be best friend with anyone?” Virgil stopped in his track, noticing the subtle doubt in his voice.
Virgil seldom heard his friend doubt these kinds of things. This was one of those rare occasions where Roman’s insecurity shone through the crack in his cheerful and arrogant facade. His fear of being expandable made him work extra-hard on everything, so as to gain people’s respect. Virgil, on the other hand, had stopped trying to act like a good student, but he still understood what Roman was feeling.
“No one can ever replace you, Ro,” Virgil reassured him and that phony smirk was back instantly as if Roman wasn’t just about to panic. Virgil returned the smile, hoping Roman had got the implication behind his words.
Virgil strolled down the concrete sidewalk slowly, feeling the uneven ground and the gush of chilly winter wind around his neck with each step. There was a roadside flower garden along the straight path and he extended his left arm, his fingertips coming into contact with the thin flower stems and soft petals of red and purple tulips. His mind drifting off, absent from the present.
Roman was acting as a prince in a Disney musical. As Virgil sat in the first row in the theatre, his eyes were glued to the prince, never stopped taking in Roman’s ostentatious movement and rhythmic voice.
He stared in awe, a dangerously-overwhelming warmth spreading in his chest, making him dizzy and short of breath in the best way possible.
Roman was enchanting, his passion and emotions drew Virgil in completely. The prince custom was a blend of white, gold, and red, making Roman stood out in the dimly lit theatre.
During Roman’s monologue about his heroic adventure in saving the damsel in distress near the end of the musical, Virgil palmed his jeans pocket and hastily fished out a small notepad and a pencil. It was hard to see clearly without any source of light around him but he managed to draw the outline of the enthusiastic prince.
He kept glancing back and forth between the stage and his notepad, nervousness cursed through him as he rushed to capture Roman’s features in mere minutes. Just when the prince’s speech ended, he finished.
Roman dramatically marched off to backstage while Virgil looked at his quick work triumphantly, feeling satisfied with himself.
On the white single-lined paper, there was Prince Charming, no, Roman, with one arm stretching above his head and one behind his back, serenading his victory in defeating the evil witch with an easy grin on his face. Although his hair was messy and his prince custom was wrinkled after the sword-fight, he still radiated energy and passion and excitement and-
I love him, Virgil realized in the middle of his internal rant. Oh no, I am in love with him. The happiness faded quickly, replaced by dread.
When Virgil went to the dressing room to find his best friend, his heartbeat skyrocketed at the sight of Roman who was still in full prince custom.
“H-hey-”
“Wait, I need to show you something, Verge.”
Roman said nervously, and Virgil watched as he hesitantly pulled out a red rose from behind his back and shyly offered it to Virgil while he looked anywhere but at Virgil’s face.
The red rose was blooming fully, its crimson petals mesmerized Virgil. His heartbeat quickened further, and he just stared hard at the flower, his mind screaming oh my gosh what does this mean! does he like me back? Red rose is the embodiment of romance right? And-
“…Do you like it?” That hesitance laced his words and Virgil wanted to tell him right now, right here, that he loved him.
But then Roman started to drew his arm back and Virgil quickly grabbed onto it with his own.
“No!” Virgil blurted out quickly,” I love it.”
Virgil would never forget the bashful grin and the blush on his face. Never.
A small park finally came into view after a few minutes of mindless walking. The swing set sat perfectly on the right side, with benches beside it. A slide and a sand patch for children to play in the middle. The place was dead silent, giving the empty park an eerie atmosphere. Virgil shivered, but he remained frozen in the entrance, allowing the memories to flood him.
After the cast members had cleaned up everything, Roman and Virgil decided to go to the park near the school because they had some free time before dusk, when they needed to be home.
Virgil’s mind was swirling the whole time, thoughts coming at him in different directions. His newly-discovered love for his best friend had heightened his anxiety.
“Verge, are you alright?” Roman’s voice pierced through the mess in his head, dispersing the web of thoughts. When Virgil looked up, they were already in the park, sitting on the park bench.
“I’m fine.”
Roman looked doubtful, then worried with a hint of sadness behind,” is it something I did? I’m sorry.”
“No! You did nothing wrong-”
“I didn’t mean anything with the rose-”
“Wait, you didn’t?” Virgil felt his heart sinking.
Seconds of silence passed and neither of them dared to speak. Virgil was freaking out internally. I basically just confessed everything oh my gosh, what do I do, what do I do?
“…Do you want it to mean…something?” Roman was the first to speak and he sounded hopeful.
Virgil coughed lightly, the tension adding pressure to his rapidly beating heart. But he couldn’t find the courage to speak, so instead, he pulled out the notepad he drew on earlier from his jeans pocket and wordlessly shoved it at Roman’s general direction.
Roman grabbed it and opened to the first page, his expression lighting up almost immediately.
“Wow,” Roman returned his attention to Virgil,” it’s amazing!”
Virgil felt the heat rushing to his cheeks,” Nah, it is just simple doodling.”
“Don’t downplay yourself like that! You are talented!”
Virgil’s face was burning now. He knew he was quite good at arts, especially drawing, but ‘talented’? “You are the one with straight A’s and good reputation. This is just a silly quirk.”
“Well, you are never going to win this argument. You are talented and awesome. End of discussion.”
They stared at each other, lost in the blissful love and adoration. 
“Virgil, I love you.”
Virgil almost thought he was dreaming. “I-I, but I am bad at studying, I have bad grades! Everyone hates me at school!”
“They don’t matter at all! I love you for you and only you, Verge.”
I love you too.
“I-I…never want to leave you.”
Roman seemed to get it because he smiled, casually saying,” then stay.”
They shared their first kiss under the warm yellow of the dusk, children’s laughter and birds’ chirping in the background like white noises.
Virgil went to the spot of that day and sat down. Reality settling in the pit of his stomach fast, replacing the dream-like memory.
It was like a fairy tale in the first month. Movie dates, dinners dates, flowers and stolen kisses under the trees. For the first time in his 18-year life, he felt alive. Roman was an exciting presence, surprising him with romantic gestures every day. Virgil couldn’t be happier.
Virgil clutched the notepad he had forced himself not to use for months and felt tears welled up. Of course, nothing was perfect after all and good things all came to an end.
Conflicts started when their schoolmates found out about their relationship. A popular, handsome, charismatic boy with a lonely, isolated, dull boy, it was no surprise that people talked and speculated. But what shocked Virgil was how gullible Roman actually was.
The classmates teased him constantly, telling him that he was not good enough for a saint like Roman, not hard-working enough for Roman who got an A in every subject, the girls told him to back off. It was hell, but nothing hurt more than Roman’s complaints.
It started slowly. A ‘you should study more’, and a ‘it would be good for you to have more friends’ here and there. Worse yet, Roman stopped looking at him like he was his world(he never was) and stopped praising him for his drawings and calligraphy art pieces(he was never talented). Virgil could feel him pulling away, putting up walls, could see how Roman never asked for his new drawings anymore, could know how Roman looked at him and failed to find the spark that began it all.
Everything went downhill when Logan came into the picture. Logan, a newly transferred student from another prestigious college in another town. He had the whole genius look, complete with nerdy glasses and rigid posture.
Within a day, Roman’s parents had organized a house party and invited Logan to join. Of course.  A good student with good grades, of course, Roman’s parents would want two of them to be friends.
On the day of the party, just before Virgil left his house to go to Roman’s, his boyfriend came to his house instead, knocking on his door.
“I don’t want you to come to the party tonight.” That was the first thing out of Roman’s mouth, and every pent-up emotion tripped right out of his heart, like a dam finally broke and the water rushed out.
“Why? Are you embarrassed by me?” Virgil challenged, and Roman looked horrified at his outburst. But Virgil didn’t stop.
“On a similar subject, why haven’t you told your parents about us already?”
“Verg-”
“Am I not good enough to be your boyfriend!?”
“No, you’re not.” Roman spit out, defeated.
Having self-doubt was one thing, having your doubt confirmed by your own boyfriend, it hurt, a lot.
“Wh-what…?”
Roman tried to touch him but he shied away, feeling…naked, vulnerable. The room suddenly seemed too small and the air too thin.
“I’m sorry, I-”
“What do you mean I’m not enough?”
Roman’s shoulders sagged, he looked tired, exhausted just from standing here in front of Virgil. “Yo-you have to understand, that-that I have a reputation,” Roman sucked in a breath,” If my parents know about us, I-I am dead.”
No. He could not take this. “What are you trying to say?”
“I think it is best for us to break up.”
There it was. The thing Roman had wanted to say for so long, every time he spoke to him with annoyance, every time he refused to tell people about them, every time he pretended to love him.
Virgil wanted to get angry. He should be angry. Everything had been a lie.
“I thought you loved me…” but instead all that came out was a broken sound, a silent plea to say please don’t leave me.
“I did,” Roman quickly wiped his eyes,”…I do.”
Virgil couldn’t find his voice anymore. He looked at Roman, hard, willing the other to get his wordless question, then why are you doing this?
“My family…they wanted Logan t-to,” Roman looked disgusted and he tried again after a deep breath,” they wanted me to be with Logan.”
Everything stopped, the truth quickly shutting off Virgil’s mind, setting the reality firmly in place. “…and you are not going to fight for us?” fight for me.
“I am powerless…” you are not worth it.
Roman’s face became blurry, and Virgil felt cold, but he didn’t care anymore. He stood there, numb, and watched as his boyfriend walked through the door for the last time.
He sat in the serenity, bathing in nostalgia. He never saw Roman much after they separated, but he did hear about him around other people, and his heart would tighten at the mention of his name.
Out of nowhere, a figure appeared in a distance, walking towards the park as well. Virgil was confused because it was past midnight already, why would anyone-
It was Roman.
Virgil sucked in a breath, willing his aching heart to stop.
When Roman noticed him from a few feet away, he stopped, taking a second to prepare himself. It was the first time they met after everything ended. Virgil kind of wanted to run to him, to just hug him and make everything alright again, but he contained himself and remained stoic.
“Virgil, what are you doing here in the middle of the night?”
“How is that any of your business?” That was rude, but Virgil was fighting back tears now.
“I…I wanted to leave this here for you, but seeing as you are here in person,” Roman gently pulled out a white tulip from his pocket and offered it to Virgil.
Forgiveness. He was asking for forgiveness. Virgil came to a conclusion. He fixed his gaze on the blooming tulip. The petals looked faded, a bit bruised from yesterday’s heavy rain. The illuminating moon made the flower silver, giving out a sorrow vibe.
He smiled sadly at his companion in front of him and left without another word. The wane flower left neglected, abandoned.
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jinnieboo-blog1 · 7 years
Text
VIXX Hyung Line as college students
Based on my VIXX College Aesthetics :) I’ll be turning these into oneshots/imagines/fanfics soon ;) <3 I\ll do the maknae line soon too~
----------------------------
N - (aesthetic here)
- majoring in either theater or performing arts
- probably a member of the dance club
- known to be the most fashionable student in campus
- super charismatic; everyone loves this guy except for maybe 5VIXX since it’s a love-hate thing between bros
- classy af like legit classy; always wearing preppy outfits and can still dance amazingly in a blazer and button up and all
- may seem like a diva at first, but is actually a sweetheart
- the type of student who likes to wake up really early to admire the sunrise
- and likes to watch the sunset
- needs to have coffee when studying; scented candles help him too
- very organized and neat notes
- you meet each other when you are both paired with each other in one of your classes
- you are intimidated by him at first, but then you realize that he’s actually not that bad and is really friendly and caring
- he can be kind of diva-ish, but you actually find it amusing
- you two just really get to know each other overtime, doing projects, homework and studying
- like dang he really admires your diligence and hard-working attitude
- and he thinks you’re beautiful but not as beautiful as him
- he likes to show you his collection of old books and is rather proud of them
- one day, while studying in the library late at night, you start getting sleepy and like are half asleep so N for some reason tucks your hair behind your ear, causing you to open your eyes and sit back up
- and you and N kind of just stare at each other until N leans closer and you’re like “OMG what” but before you can do anything, N has already started to softly kiss you
- and it only lasted a few seconds, so when he pulls away, you’re kinda like “Aaawww” ‘cause he has the softest lips ever
- you two are just grinning at each other like cuties and he apologizes for being  too sudden, and you tell him it’s alright ‘cause it’s not like you didn’t like it but you’re just so flustered and N just smirks there
- like he tells you how much he admires you and is just really captivated by you so you blush and tell him that you’ve felt the same and aaayyy you kiss each other again
- when you two start to date, everyone just knows you two as being a really sweet, old-fashioned kind of couple
- you know, hand-written letters, dates in coffee shops and the park, shopping together, matching classy af outfits, cuddling each other while reading
- he likes to give you lots and lots of hugs
- Ken is constantly clinging to you like a little child like “Thank you for dating N he’ll finally stop smothering us with his mother hugs etc etc”
- you just giggle but then N is like “nah fam I’m still gonna show you all some love”
- but then he really shows you the most love and spoils you a lot but in a good way
LEO - (aesthetic here)
- majoring in Education because bruh this boy loves kids
- part of the soccer team because mad soccer skills
- constantly eating nad hungry but he burns it all away after training and practice with the soccer bros
- needs coffee 24/7; like every single day he needs to have his daily dose of coffee
- very, very, very smart like wooow
- people are intimidated by him (and his height) and are afraid to approach or talk to him but deep down and to those who really know him, he’s really gentle 
- he can shut someone up though with just a glare so beware of this gentle giant
- doesn’t like to always hang around with a group, so he’s usually alone somewhere peaceful and quiet; usually chilling or reading somewhere in the school’s rooftop garden or something of that sort
- one day, you are sitting by the bleachers, studying your notes while watching the soccer team practice and Leo’s in a bad mood so he accidentally kicks the ball too hard and it goes flying straight to you
- and you get hit on the face and the whole team is like “oh shi-” and Leo rushes to you and apologizes a million times and feels sooo guilty
- it kind of hurt and you hold your nose to make sure it’s fine so you just laugh and smile, saying that it’s alright and it’s nothing serious
- but then Leo still feels really bad ‘cause he’s really just a sweet kitten, so he gently holds your wrist and moves it away from your nose and he just looks so upset with himself ‘cause your nose is now bleeding
- and you start to blush not because it’s bleeding, but because Leo, who is really handsome oh my, is so close and staring at your face
- and then he insists to take you to the clinic, but then you don’t want to hassle him, so you tell him it’s fine and he should go back to practicing so he reluctantly agrees
- a few days later, you bump into each other in his favorite coffee shop and he’s like “how’s the nose?” and you’re like “completely fine” 
- and then it’s just an awkward silence so you’re like no practice today? and he says that there’s none and so you ask “what brings you here?” and he says that this is his favorite cafe, and you’re like NO WAAAY ME TOOO
- and he just brightens up and shyly asks if you want to join him for coffee, so you say yes
- you two just talk about coffee and how you both have a soft spot for them kiddos and Leo is just really enjoying and you get to see the side of him that not many people see; ya know he’s really sweet and gentle
- so you’re like you’re not that scary, unlike what other people say and Leo’s like I appreciate it and he smiles gently and your heart just goes BOOM
- you two just develop a close bond and so one day, after practice when all the other team members go to the locker rooms to change and all, Leo goes straight to you at the bleachers and you like offer him some water and a towel
- and as he catches his breath, you just look at him with admiration but then he turns to you and catches you staring so he’s like ??? and you’re like NOTHING HERE LET ME and you grab the towel from him and use it to ruffle his hair
- but then he gently takes your hands in his and stares into your eyes like mhhhmmm and before you know it, he gently plants a kiss on your lips like it’s really quick and you’re like LEO?!
- and then he’s just shyly looking down and smiling, so you end up smiling and kissing him too
- when you date, it’s just such a cute, fluffy sight; he’s very protective of you
- you two like to go to your favorite cafe, cuddles in bed, lots and lots and lots of spooning and shy kisses on your nose
- like Hyuk is like “hyung has a girlfriend?????” and you’re like YEAHP and Hyuk is about to say something Hyuk-like, so Leo shoots him a glare so Hyuk’s like “NVM CHEERS TO THE HAPPY COUPLE”
KEN - (aesthetic here)
- majoring in arts 
- member of the art club 
- really funny and a huge dork that everyone loves because he’s a precious cinnamon roll and is constantly doing aegyo all over the place
- looks extremely good in glasses and a killer smile
- the type of student who falls asleep in some classes, but still manages to get really good grades because he is smart anyway also very good with art yes its his major ofc
- has doodles and drawings of anything that happens in his everyday life; even his notes in class have doodles
- has a variety of pencils and ballpens in assorted colors
- likes to study with a view, meaning when he studies, he likes to be by the window or somewhere where he can enjoy the view
- you don’t really know him personally, but in the classes you have together, he’s usually asleep. Or if he’s awake, you never get to talk to him because you think you’d get flustered and embarrass yourself because he’s too handsome and cute
- but one time, he leaves his notebook in class, so like you look inside and see his amazing drawings, so you run to find him, but he’s no longer in the area and so you make it your mission to return it to him because how could he lose something so amazing? and maybe you can finally talk to him
- days later, you’re at the doing homework for your art class and Ken and his friend Ravi make noise, but you don’t mind them but then later on, Ravi has left and Ken has nowhere to sit because most of the seats are occupied, so he goes to you and is like “is this seat available?” and you look up surprised but manage to nod so Ken happily takes a seat
- you don’t talk to him because omg he really is cute and you don’t know what to say until Ken is like “heyyy you’re in my art class right?” and you reply like “Yeah, I see you there too”
- so he offers his hand and is like “I’m Ken!” and you smile at the gesture and shake his hand and say “I’m y/n” and he grins like a puppy and is like “nice to meet yaa”
- then he sees your drawing for the class homework thing and he’s like WHOOOO AMAZING and you blush like, no no you’re much better and Ken is surprised like “how would you know tho” and he leans closer and squints at you playfully but you end up blushing more when you remember his notebook
- so you pull it out of your bag and tell him that he left it the other day, and Ken’s like YOU’RE A LIFESAVER and you just chuckle and tell him that he really is good and Ken goes all aegyo and it just makes you laugh
- and then he looks at your drawing and is like “the homework is to make a portrait of someone?” and you’re like “Yeah. I’m doing a portrait of my best friend” and so you show him the picture you’re basing it on and Ken’s like “WHOA IT IS SO ACCURATE”
- you’re like thanksss! Who’s your subject/model and Ken’s like hmmm you? and you’re like “excuse me? me?” and Ken says that it would be weird if he asked Ravi or Hongbin to be his model/subject so he begs you and does puppy eyes and all sorts of aegyo so you end up agreeing
- the following days, your’re just in his dorm room, admiring how surprisingly neat it is while Ken sketches you
- during this time, you two just get to know each other, throwing all sorts of jokes and sharing stories haaaaaa it’s just a really pleasant time
- sometimes you two just snack on chips and watch movies when he wants to take a break
- when the day the portraits are due, he meets you at the library and tells you that the professor was amazed, so you’re like congrats! and he’s like YEAH! but I couldn’t have done it without you! and you joke around like “well...that’s true. I am the best. You better love and appreciate me” and Ken is like “You bet you are! Thank you so so so much I love you!”
- and then you hear that slip out of his mouth and look surprised, and then he realizes what he said, and you both just go red and shy and stare at each other and you’re like “I was just joking about you loving and appreciating me!”
- then Ken suddenly goes serious and moves closer to you, pinning you against the bookshelf and is like “what if it’s not a joke?” and you’re like whaaat and Ken just kisses you out of nowhere and says “I do love and appreciate you”
- so you’re like asdghauiwglgl but then you two resume to making out right there like he’s reallyyyy kissing you and pulling you as close as possible and like your fingers are lost in his hair and yeah you get it
- dating Ken means lots of kisses even in public, so much PDA...SO MUCH PDA, hugs everywhere, dates at the amusement or water park
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minamisconcierge · 8 years
Note
First of all thanks for running such a great blog! Can I have brothers with artsy Mc who really wants to use them as models for anatomy study (come on they're perfect materials) but is too shy to ask so she just keeps on drawing them when she thinks they're not looking just for aesthetic pleasure and one day they discover her sketchbook filled with their portraits etc. and she just wants to die of embarassment. Sorry it's so specific and weird T_T
UGH I CAN’T REMEMBER what it’s from but there’s a little valentine’s thing where you actually do something like this w/ chiaki and it’s sUPER CUTE
i can’t imagine lmao
anyway here’s these babes
Chiaki
After your drawing contest on Valentine’s Day, he spots you sketching here and there and he’s alway so curious about what it is
You push him away each time he tries to peek
Goes through your stuff while you’re showering, probably and flips through each of your sketchbook pages
He’s waiting for you in your room on the bed, sketchbook in hand
you’re absolutely mortified until he speaks,
“I think you’ve gotten much better since then.”
was that a compliment??? 
you savor it bc he’s not one to usually compliment you
“However, your lines are still sloppy. Shall we practice more?”
He has the sketchbook you got for him and you’re ready to have another contest again
Toma
“Why do you insist on doing such a useless hobby? If you’ve time to do that, you’ve time to better yourself as a concierge.”
honestly why is this boy so harsh got damn
each sketch you have of toma accentuates his blue eyes and his handsome face that you admire
but instead of that scornful cold look he always has you draw him smiling and what you’d imagine it to be like
espec. when the smile isn’t at your expense
relieved you of your duties one night early, but needed something so he barges into your room
fuck do people even knock anymore????
and narrows his eyes at your sketchbook again, snatching it from you mid drawing
NO WAIT -------
AND flips through the pages with a straight face, until the very one you were working on with such a soft and loving smile 
“Is this what you want to see from me? Hah, good luck.”
but you catch the smile on his face just as he turns away and you swear he was genuinely happy about it
Shizuka
very used to being photographed / the center of attention
probably poses when he thinks you’re sketching him
teases you about your dreamy eyes and how concentrated you are
begs and pleads for you to show him the sketchbook
nope though lol
you catch him snooping around your room one night and you’re quick to shove him away
but he’s a lil bandit and escapes with the book and going through it
"Wow! You made me look much better than I actually look! I didn’t think that was possible!”
just fawns over his own face now -_-
gives you praise too for your skills but damN LOOK AT HIS JAWLINE
Minami
watches you draw most of the time but not what you’re drawing, just how you act while drawning
pushes your nose up to distract you LOL
“I hope you’re drawing little piggies! They better be cute and angry like you !”
you just glare at him and press harder into the paper and draw stupid faces of minami
probably does the same thing as shizuka and manages to steal the sketchbook from you
and he’s laughing and stuff looking at your drawings and taking your pencil and stuff and DRAWING HIS OWN THINGS
“Look, i drew you too!”
BUT LOOK AT THAT ANGRY PIGGY FACE
YOU JUST BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF HIM WITH THE SKETCH BOOK
Mei
“I didn’t realize you had any artistic talent.”
just curiously watches you and pets his lil pupper 
keeps watching you w/ such a cross look on his face like he’s so intrigued by what you’re doing
you just stick your tongue out at him and keep doodling while doing your work between 
while you’re fixing his sheet music you accidentally leave one of your sketches of him in his papers
when he’s spreading out the music he just sees this dazzling image of him, even though it’s a little messy with sketch lines, he’s just surprised at how much it looks like him
“You. Come here.”
And when you approach him he just stares pointedly at the drawing.
“.... Can you do one of me and Rachmaninoff?”
Rei
IS THE ONE THAT BUYS YOU THE SKETCHBOOK FOR YOU TO DRAW IN
he wants to still treat you like a normal person because evewn though you’re his personal concierge YOU’RE STILL A NORMAL FUCKING PERSON
wants to watch you draw and peeks at your drawings sometimes because  you two are so playful together it’s a bit disgusting sometimes but
“Show me what you’ve been working on. That’s an order, as your master.”
wait what, when did he get? so ??? demanding.
you see that smile, but it’s icy and it scares you slightly, and you just hand over your sketch book.
he doesn’t say anything as he flips through the pages, lips furling into something pleased as he sees the various sketches and angles you’ve drawn him from.
“Interesting.”
That’s all he has to say?? 
The next day he bought you more things and left them on your bed, more artsy things and sketchbooks and colours and stuff and
“I hope this wasn’t out of place to do something like this.”
He’s speaking lowly into your ear from behind
“But it’s important to express yourself, if this is how you do it.”
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