#ughghhggh i love him so much

[sammylkcho]

I have a jealous human seb request 👉👈, The highschool au is pretty cool maybe something with that? Or whatever u think works :)))

  ༷  ㅤ !    ﹢High School AU - Jealous, jealous   ִ     ੭

Did I end up creating an AU without realizing it? Yes. Am I now obsessed with human Seb and Y/N in these kinds of scenarios? definitely

Hope you like it, my dear anon! Btw, for the fans of Epic the Musical, I was inspired by certain scenes in the song Little Wolf heheh

Warnings/Notes: escena de pelea, golpes, physical insecurities, me inspiré en human painter en el Painter de Streamer AU, using pronuns she/her with Y/N (sorry :c)

You allowed yourself to lift your head from the desk as the bell rang, signaling the start of the first recess. At that precise moment, all your classmates sprang from their seats and bolted out of the room like wild animals, desperate to escape the classroom for even a second.

You waited until at least half of them had left to avoid being pushed and squeezed between their bodies just to get out yourself. After all, your entire group of friends was absent today, so there wasn’t anyone you were particularly waiting for.

“Get up. I don’t want the cafeteria to run out of empanadas,” Sebastian said.

You lazily glanced over your shoulder and saw him standing there, hands tucked into his sweater pockets, his messy, wavy black hair as unruly as ever, and his blue eyes sparkling with that peculiar glimmer they always seemed to have.

It had only been a few weeks since you’d started talking to him—or rather, since he started talking to you. It had surprised you when he chose to pair up with you for a group project, especially since your friend didn’t protest or complain about not doing the assignment together as you two usually planned.

And it just happened—you didn’t even know how you ended up getting closer to him. Once again, you were amazed that your social anxiety hadn’t caused you to say something stupid as it often did in so many situations.

A quick snap of fingers broke your trance, making you blink and focus on the tanned fingers in front of you.

You smiled and apologized before standing up to walk alongside him, leaving the classroom to head toward the place Sebastian’s stomach most desired: the cafeteria.

“How are your siblings?” you asked, trying to start a conversation to distract yourself from the overwhelming noise around you.

“They’re fine, though… my sister’s been annoying lately, and I have to be her poor victim. So unfair!” Sebastian complained, frowning dramatically.

His exaggerated gestures made you laugh. You always enjoyed hearing how he made every situation with his siblings seem over the top. There was never a dull story about them.

Hearing your laugh, Sebastian glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. A flush of warmth rushed to his cheeks, and his palms began to feel sweaty. He quickly looked away, pulling a childish face. Loverboy.

“Hey, I’m gonna head to the bathroom for a moment. Don’t wait too long for me,” you said, stepping slightly away from his side.

He gave you a confused look for a moment before snapping out of it and flashing you a lazy smile, giving you a thumbs-up in approval.

“Just don’t take too long. I won’t promise to leave anything half-eaten,” he called out, raising his voice to make himself heard over the growing crowd of students in the courtyard.

You walked off with a small “uh-huh” in confirmation, heading straight for the bathrooms. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding it in until your bladder gave you a signal that if you didn’t go now, there’d be a bit of trouble.

It was no secret that the girls’ bathroom always had at least five people inside, most of them standing in front of the mirrors for at least ten minutes. Luckily, you only needed to take care of business and wash your hands before heading back out.

You recognized three girls from your class in there and two others who you guessed were a year or two ahead of you.

You’d always felt a bit uncomfortable around them, especially since some of them drooled over Sebastian and fit the classic “queen bee” stereotype. Honestly, you never liked them.

You entered the stall without any issues and finished up quickly before heading to the sinks to wash your hands.

Catching your reflection in the mirror, you felt a twinge of self-consciousness as you took in your appearance. You felt uncomfortable with yourself. How could you even show up to school looking like this? How could you stand next to him when—

You shook your head quickly, pushing those intrusive thoughts aside as you hurriedly left the bathroom. You’d gotten better; you didn’t need to dwell on those things—at least not as much.

Your eyes widened as you stepped outside and saw the courtyard completely packed. It was almost impossible to make out individuals in the sea of students.

You began weaving through the crowd, narrowly dodging a small paper ball some boys had decided to use as a makeshift soccer ball.

Your eyes scanned every corner of the courtyard near the tables, searching for one specific person. It was challenging, considering almost everyone had black hair. But no matter—you’d find your favorite Chilean.

Your gaze landed on a head of snow-white hair, and a smile crept onto your face as you spotted Vincent Painter in the crowd. You knew full well that where Vincent was, Sebastian was sure to be close by.

You pushed your way through, tuning out the rest of the world as you zeroed in on those two specific people.

“Painter, Seb—” The words died in your throat in an instant, the air abruptly leaving your lungs as you felt a sudden force. A hand clamped down firmly on your shoulder.

A chill ran through your body from head to toe as your heart began pounding faster and faster. You forced yourself to relax enough to turn and see who had grabbed you like that.

“Clay.”

The name seemed to slip instantly from your lips as you turned to see who it was.

It might sound cliché to say it this way, but it was the number one bully, troublemaker, and overall pain in the ass for both students and teachers alike. Always bothering people in the most unpleasant ways just to have something to do—including you.

You’d struggled to turn him into background noise back in sophomore year. Every time a teacher publicly scolded you for being late or some other "important" issue, he was always there to rub it in, mocking you for every mistake.

"Busy?" he asked with fake interest, his hand still firmly gripping your shoulder.

"A little, yes, maybe. Actually doing something worthwhile, unlike some," you muttered the last part under your breath, quickly and quietly, cursing yourself a thousand times over the moment you realized what you'd said.

His grip on your shoulder seemed to tighten and grow more forceful. You’d struck a nerve.

"Why don’t you come hang out with me and my group for the rest of the break? We’re not as boring as some," he said, maintaining that same hypocritical tone.

His hand slid down until it rested around your shoulders, as if you were lifelong friends. The gesture made your skin crawl with disgust. You wanted to shove him away, to curse him out in every way possible, to give him the slap he’d deserved for ages.

Your mind screamed yes to all of those thoughts, but your body froze, paralyzed with fear of what might happen if you so much as moved an inch while he had his arm around you.

Your legs felt like they were bolted to the ground, refusing to respond to the demands your brain was frantically making. Even though no one else could clearly see it in that moment, it was humiliating.

"No, I’m busy—"

"Someone like you is never busy."

"SHIT, NO!" you yelled with all your strength. Before he could react, you jerked your shoulders forcefully, a sharp motion that broke his grip. You freed yourself and stepped back, your body trembling with pure adrenaline.

You exhaled all the air you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in, gasping desperately for the oxygen you’d been depriving yourself of. The suffocating feeling still lingered, especially after your outburst and the scene you’d unintentionally created in front of the other students.

The noisy schoolyard, which had been alive with chatter and laughter just moments ago, fell deathly silent at your shout. Those closest to you and Clay stood frozen, watching in stunned silence to see how the situation would unfold. Further back, murmurs started among the students, curious and uncertain about what had caused the commotion.

You looked at Clay, trembling, noticing how his muscles tensed and his eyes stayed locked on you, unyielding. Neither of you said anything, locked in a tense standoff, like a predator trying not to scare off its prey.

Time seemed to stop for a moment, the only sound being your heavy, shaky breaths if someone were to listen closely enough.

Then, you clearly saw his right hand—the same one that had been draped over your shoulders—rise aggressively toward you, giving you no time to react or process what was about to happen.

The blow landed hard and fast, a lightning strike of pain erupting like a volcano in your cheek and spreading through your entire head. Your vision blurred for a moment, a dull ringing filling your ears as the world around you tilted unsteadily.

You lost your balance, stumbling to the side. Your hands instinctively reached for the ground, but the force of the impact left your arms trembling under your weight. Your skin burned where his hand had struck, a searing sensation that seemed to etch the violence into your body.

"Stop acting like a wild animal toward me! You’re that guitarist’s lapdog, so act like it—"

His words were abruptly cut off when something struck him out of nowhere, silencing him mid-sentence.

You didn’t take the moment to lift your head and see what had happened; your mind was still struggling to process the words he’d just yelled at you.

“Who the hell threw a damn empanada at me?!” he roared, utterly agitated, his fury palpable from miles away.

“Who taught you to hit a woman like that?!”

A new voice broke into the scene, one you recognized instantly.

You wanted to lift your head, even just a little, but the wave of dizziness and trembling that overtook you made it almost impossible to move.

“Shh... Come on, get up slowly and carefully. Let me help you. That bruise looks nasty,” another voice said softly, this one closer to you.

They helped you up, letting you lean on them for support as you steadied yourself, focusing on placing one foot in front of the other. Squinting, you tried to make out who it was, though you already knew.

“Painter… Seb’s—” you murmured weakly, trying to get him to stop the sudden impulsiveness of the other man.

“I know. That idiot’s trying to act tough,” Painter cut you off, rolling his eyes at the unfolding situation.

“You want to put on a show for the whole school? Fine, Solace! Let’s see how you handle this!”

Clay’s voice sent a shiver down your spine as you watched the scene play out in front of you.

Clay was advancing, his steps slow but deliberate. Sebastian instinctively stepped back, trying to keep some distance, his eyes locked on Clay’s movements, searching for any clue of his intentions.

But the gap between them was closing rapidly, the circle of onlookers around them seeming to shrink with every passing moment. Each step back was a concession, and each step forward from Clay was a reminder of who was in control.

“DON’T BE A COWARD!”

That shout rang out like the toll of a bell, marking the inevitable start of what was about to happen.

Clay lunged forward, his fist raised, ready to land a solid blow. As he closed the last few inches between them, he swung with brutal force, grabbing Sebastian roughly and shoving him back. The shove was so forceful it left Sebastian struggling to regain his balance.

Sebastian didn’t waste a second to catch his breath. He recovered immediately, ignoring his body’s cries for rest; there was no time for that now.

“Uppercut him. NOW” Painter shouted, almost as agitated as Sebastian himself at the sight of his friend fighting.

Without hesitation, Sebastian followed Painter’s instruction.

His fist shot upward with calculated precision, aiming for his attacker.

The sound of the impact was the only thing that could be heard in the courtyard—a crack that left more than a few eyes wide at the sheer violence of the scene. Clay’s jaw snapped upward with the force of the punch, sending him stumbling back, reeling from the sudden blow.

Clay forced his gaze back toward Sebastian, his face twisted into a deranged grin full of rage.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the furious voice of a new arrival shattered the overwhelming silence of the courtyard.

“Solace and Torres! I want both of you in my office NOW!” bellowed the principal, his uncontrolled fury directed at the two named offenders.

. . . . . . . . . .

“That was stupid.”

Silence.

“Impulsive. Way too impulsive.”

Silence.

“Something you’d never do. Especially getting involved in something like this.”

Silence.

“Did I mention how much of an idiot you were?” You tightened the bandage around his palm.

“Ow!” he hissed, wincing at the sting from your touch.

You shot him a glare, still struggling to understand why his foolish mind had decided to intervene and start a fight—especially one that escalated so violently.

He avoided your eyes, turning his head to the side, causing strands of his dark hair to fall across his forehead like a curtain, partially obscuring his vision.

You let out an audible sigh, one that sounded more like an exasperated groan than anything else.

Your hand was still holding Sebastian’s as you finished wrapping the bandage. Even though his palm had small, raw scrapes, his touch was warm and comforting. A part of you didn’t want to pull away.

“I just… I felt awful seeing him hit you, and I couldn’t do anything. You didn’t deserve that—especially not from a guy like him!” he muttered, pressing his other palm against his cheek in frustration.

He looked endearing like this, grumbling while trying to explain why he’d felt the need to protect you from someone like that.

“Don’t worry about it anymore, okay? I’m fine, and so are you,” you reassured him, offering a soft smile.

A faint hum, something like an “mmh,” escaped his lips.

You laughed a little more at his antics, catching a brief glimpse of crimson red coloring his cheeks. How cute.

[imagineshuitsukieveryday]

Welcome back! Now please pick up your cat, Shu Nyatsuki. (But seriously though WB and good luck with everything! I also sketched this so fast it was unbelievable haha)

YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. THE EMOTIONS I GOT WHEN I SAW THIS. HE LOOKS. SO CUTE. I STARTED TO CRY?? LIKE IN A VERY GOOD WAY JUST... LOOK AT HIM IM... I KNOW THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK SKETCH BUT ITS SO. JHESHGHJESHJGSE LOOK AT HIM SO CUTE. YOUR COLORING>>> THE STYLE??? I love how you draw eyes.. color... omg I'm just GONE.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE WARM WELCOME AND GIFT YOU DIDNT HAVE TO ;A; SHU NYATSUKI IS SO CUTE I'M SO HONORED YOU CHOSE TO BLESS ME WITH YOUR ART ONCE MORE UGHGHHGGH