#we were painting a vase and flowers. y’know. as you do in art class

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Monet & Van Gough

pairing: Jimin x you x Taehyung genre: fluff. love Triangle. artist au. summary: You are assigned seating between two of the best art students in class. They feud over two things, art and you. a/n: I actually controlled myself. I made a one shot instead of starting a whole new series yayy 🌸

Delicate strokes of your paintbrush, classical music flowing through the earbuds as you glanced at the vase of flowers on the table. Dipping your brush in the water you tap it on the side of the glass cup, getting the excess water off. The professor instructed the classroom to paint the flowers the way their mind interprets. You used watercolors and painted on the off-white canvas, your art always looked a bit different. Not bad, just not common.

“That’s really pretty Y/N.” Jimin, the boy who always sat to your right smiled genuinely, cleaning off his brush to continue with a different color. You smiled, taking a peek at his canvas and you were always impressed with his work. It was so stunning, the watercolors were so precise and skillfully painted—you’d like to paint as well as him one day.

“Really? I think yours is much better than mine.” You went back to painting, gaining a bit of confidence form the simple compliment. “But thank you.”

“Yeah, you paint so well.” Taehyung, the boy who sat on your left leaned back in his chair just to get a better look at the picture, yellow paint on his fingers as he pointed at your simple vase.

“Thank you, Tae.” You smiled, adding some white to the purple paint to your paint palette. The flowers were fairly easy but you found yourself struggling to start the petals, in fear you would mess them up.

“What's with all the yellow?” Jimin commented. You saw he was looking at Taehyungs canvas, there was a lot of yellow but it was still pretty in your opinion. “The flowers are purple.”

“He said to paint them the way I perceive them. I perceive them as yellow.” He cooed, continuing to do his own thing. 

“You can’t perceive a different color,” Jimin mumbled.

“Why do you have a pond in the background? Last time I checked we weren’t outside. You perceived a whole new fucking backdrop...” Tae defended as he cursed innocently in your eyes and Jimin glared at him.

“A different scenery is practical. That’s what you call artistic, it’s creative.” Jimin put down his paintbrush, reaching for a different one to portray a thinner line of paint.

“y/n, which do you like better? His or mine?” Tae broke you from your concentration by tapping your shoulder. You couldn’t understand why they needed to win so much, they both painted beautifully.

“I’m not going to choose, they’re both good in their on way.” You were about sick of them fighting over this, you focused on your painting, trying your best to ignore them and make the teacher believe you weren’t apart of this fued.

Jimin grinned. “You know you like mine better, you can say it. It’s okay to hurt his feeling a little bit. My art is-”

Tae flicked yellow painting on him before he could properly finish, some of that yellow pain got on his painting. “Oops, my fingers slipped.” He chuckled.

“What the hell?!” He looked down at his white sweater, “you’re gonna pay for this.”

“Mr. Kim and Mr. Park, since you two paint so much you can stay after class to clean up.” He glared at the two, seeing that their attention was more of each other than him. “Class dismissed, put your paintings up and we’ll continue next class. Have a nice weekend.” He packed up his things and he was out of here.

Meanwhile you watched the two of them passive aggressively putting up their material. The class room slowly started to empty but you purposely took your sweet time, watching them argue like children.

“That’s the wrong one, put the blue one there.” Jimin mumbled, pointing to the correct cabinets.

“You do it.” Tae shoved the bucket into Jimin’s arms and he had no choice but to hold it as he glared at that kid. “Quit bossing me around...” 

Jimin leered at the eccentric boy. “If you stop half doing stuff I wouldn’t have to-”

“Guys, do you want me to help?” You offered, you wanted to calm some of the tension between them.

“No, it’s okay, there’s no reason for you to be punished too.” Tae looked at you with a genuine smile but you grabbed the brush from him anyway.

“I’ll help you anyway.” You took the brushes from the back of the class so you could put them in the sink. 

“Thanks, Y/n.”Jimin walked behind you. “Y’know, I saw the mural at the dance center, you did a great job.” He stood beside you, getting a cloth to dry the brushes you’re washing. He referred to the mural you did last week, they told you there was a paid mural painting opportunity for art students, getting paid was enough for you to volunteer. 

“You did? Thank you, I tried my best.” That the first time anyone had complimented you on them,it took a lot of time so a compliment like that means a lot from an artist like Jimin.

“So,” Taehyung came to lean against the sink counter and smile. “I wanted to ask if you’d like to go to that new museums grand opening, I hear it’s supposed to be really nice. It’s tomorrow, at 5. Do you want to go?” The mere mention of a museum had you smiling from ear to ear.

“Oh my gosh Tae, are you serious? I’d love to go.” You giggled, giving Tae a big hug despite your wet hands getting on the back of his shirt a bit.

Jimin had to quickly but in, seeing as his plan to ask you was being ruined. “What a coincidence, I have tickets to the same museum.”

“Oh yeah?” Tae said sarcastically. “Well, pity you’ll have to go alone.” He snickered.

“Y/n, do you want to go with me?” Jimin had to ask, with those puppy dog eyes and the sweet way he asked, how could you turn him down?

“No, she wants to go with-”

“How about we all go together!” That was a brilliant idea. “It’ll be fun!” 

Tae made a slightly disgusted face. “All three of us?”

Jimin cringed at thought. “Together?...”

You nodded eagerly, running over to the desk to grab your backpack with delight thoughts of you and your two good friends going out to look at art. Going with one of them would be more than enough but the both of them would make it all the more exciting.

"I'll see you guys 5 o’clock sharp!” And you left them, leaving them speechless.

The two of them stood there glaring at each other, trying to adjust to the fact that they’d be shoulder going out with each other and not just you like they had in mind. Of course, you were oblivious to that, you just thought you were going out with you good friends and having fun. But little did you know, they’d be at each other’s throats just to get you to themselves. The two of them would be competeing for your affection—but how could you pick between them?

[flippyphil]

The Boy With The Beautiful Blue Eyes {Phan}

read it on ao3: [x]

Relationship: Dan Howell/Phil Lester Word Count: 2200+ Summary: “Dan never saw eyes so blue or so beautiful. They were more captivating than anyone else’s and Dan felt like he was both drowning and floating in them.”

in which Dan falls head over heels for an artist with amazing eyes

Dan Howell had it all. He was the king of his high school, captain of the rugby team and dating the head cheerleader. He was a cardboard cutout of every perfect jock in a cheesy teen movie. He was the one that the nerdy girl-turned hot would fall head over heels for.

He had everything he could want and he knew it. He and his two best friends, PJ and Chris, had the perfect high school careers. No one could take them down.

That’s what Dan believed, anyways.

“Danny,” purred Clara, her slim fingers were twirling around in his dark brown hair, “you are coming over tonight, aren’t you?”

Dan’s lips found their way to his girlfriend’s neck, sucking it softly, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to make her squeal.

“I wish I could, baby,” he replied, his hand around her waist, holding her tightly to him, “but you know my dad’s coming home today. Me, him and my brother are gonna have dinner with him.”

Clara pouted, her lower lip jutting far out for effect, “that’s not fair, Dannybear, you never come over anymore.”

Dan chuckled, sheepishly, “I know, lovely, I’ve been busy lately. But we will…get together…soon.”

Clara opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by the shrill of the bell. Dan smiled at her and winked before bounding off to his fourth-period class.

Art was his fourth-period class and, coincidentally, his favorite. He loved drawing people, especially eyes. Dan always believed eyes were so captivating, the different colors, the way the pupils dart around when they’re looking.

Dan didn’t love Clara, but he did love her eyes. They were dark green, hypnotizing. He could stare at them all day, which she usually mistook for a loving gaze.

The sad truth was, Dan was a lonely king. He pretended to be the best of the best, the best rugby player, the most handsome. Inside, though, Dan was longing to escape high school and leave the dump behind.

He liked to believe he was made for more than to be a high-school has-been. He imagined a future for himself that was no longer fake, suave smiles or fist bumps. To marry someone with substance (and beautiful eyes) instead of someone he was expected to.

As Dan was opening his art portfolio, someone sat down in the seat next to him. Someone Dan had never seen before. He looked over and the boy was staring down the tables, a pack of oil pastels in his hands. His hands were dirty, paint and charcoal covering his pale skin. The hands of an artist.

He had dark black hair that covered his ears.

The boy shifted in his chair and a few colored pencils rolled out of his backpack. Dan leaned down and picked them up. He tapped the new boy on his shoulder.

When the boy turned around, Dan’s heart stopped beating. His face was well drawn, a sharp nose framed it together. A pair of big, round glasses sat on the bridge of it, slightly crooked in an endearing way.

But his eye. His fucking eyes.

They were blue, a deep, icy blue. Like a cold pool in the middle of summer or a melting pond in the arctic.

Dan never saw eyes so blue or so beautiful. They were more captivating than anyone else’s and Dan felt like he was both drowning and floating in them.

“Can I help you?” the boy asked, pleasantly.

With a shaky hand, Dan held out the colored pencils.

“These…these rolled out of your backpack.”

Beautiful-eyed boy took them from Dan’s hand and inspected them, using one finger to push his glasses further up his nose. He looked up, mystic blue eyes locking in Dan’s and gave a wide open-mouthed smile.

“Thank you! I’m Phil Lester, by the way.”

“Dan Howell,” Dan replied. Phil shook his hand and looked away. Dan glanced down at his palm to see it was covered in all the colors Phil had on his. He felt his cheeks growing hotter and hotter.

As Dan buttoned up his nice black shirt in front of his full-length mirror, all his thoughts were filled with Phil Lester. More specifically, his eyes. His eyes would be the death of Dan Howell.

Rest in Peace Dan Howell, he thought, he lived a good life. Loved brother, son and rugby player. Death via a beautiful boy and his goddamn eyes.

“Dan!” his mother called, just as Dan was tugging on his socks and slipping his sneakers on, “your father’s car is outside! You better come quick, he’s double parked.”

Dan heaved a sigh as he walked down the stairs. Adrian was already at the bottom of the stairs and tapping his foot, impatiently, waiting for Dan.

“Have fun you too,” his mom smiled, kissing Dan’s forehead and Adrian’s cheek.

It was a messy divorce, his mom and his dad fought too much. They were both good people, but their personalities clashed far too often. It was mutual too, but that didn’t ease any of the pain that Dan felt when his parents told them they were splitting.

It made no sense to Dan, how two people could declare their undying love for each other and vow their lives to one another and just…take it back. Love is love, Dan thinks, and it should be unbroken. Too bad Mom and Dad don’t think that way.

He and Adrian made their way to their Dad’s maroon car. Dan got in the passenger’s seat and Adrian in the back. His father smiled at the two, fist-bumped Dan and high-fives Adrian and they headed out to the diner.

Adrian was babbling about some middle school affair that Dan couldn’t care less about. His elbow was on the car window and his face was pressed into the palm of his hand. As he stared out, watching cars and buildings zoom by, his and began to wander to Phil Lester, as it had the entirety of the day.

He wondered if anyone ever had a heart attack from seeing Phil’s eyes, dying instantly. Dan bitterly wished that had happened to him because now he was suffering. All he wanted to do was kiss those rosy lips that bent into a perfect smile and god, just get lost in those eyes for hours.

When Dan walked into art class the next day, he gave a half smile when Phil was already sitting next to his seat.

“Hi,” Phil said, opening his portfolio and pulling out a picture of a flower vase. Dan peered over at it and laughed.

“Why just the vase?”

Phil shrugged, “I couldn’t find flowers pretty enough to put in the vase.”

Dan was silent. Phil wasn’t a normal new kid, not desperate to get in with a good crowd. His art spoke numbers though, the coloring especially.

“Alright class, today we’re going to start a new project. And it’s a partner project!”

Dan’s breath hitched and he looked over at Phil, “do you…wanna be partners?”

Phil gave him that smile again, the million dollar one which made Dan want to jump out the window, right then and there.

“Sure!”

“The project is a joint painting. You have to work together, really make your art style flow together to look like one, cohesive painting. You may take it home if you don’t finish it by the end of class…BEGIN!”

Phi stands up and comes back with a paint palate. It’s filled with light yellow and pink pastels. Mint green and dark green. And blue, an icy blue. Just like his eyes, Dan thinks, his breath softening.

“I thought,” Phil brushes at his bangs, shyly, “we could paint some flowers. Y’know…for my empty vase.”

Dan looks at him and beams as well (god, this boy makes me a weak sap), “good idea. Start sketching it?”

Dan finds their art styles blend together perfectly, they compliment each other to the point where it seems like one, talented artists had done it instead of two teenagers who barely know each other.

It makes Dan happy, to see Phil’s gorgeous eyes with a determined set to them. The way he sticks his tongue out slightly in concentration, his west flicking back and forth as he paints.

Dan feels a blush creeping up his neck and coloring his eyes a light pink as his hand nudges Phil’s accidentally, and their paintbrushes hit.

Phil looks up, a red blush dusting his cheeks as well. Then, he giggled (this really is the day I die, Dan swoons to himself) and continued to work.

They didn’t end up finishing in class, to Phil invites Dan to his house. Dan drives him.

They sit in Dan’s fancy silver sports car, Phil’s hands are held together in his lap and he stares straight ahead.

“It’s a nice car,” Phil comments, fiddling with the lock on the door. Dan chuckles, backing out of his parking spot.

“I suppose it is. My parents got it for me, sort of a ‘sorry we’re splitting up, take a car’ present.”

“You’re parents are separated?” Phil asks, peering at Dan with wide, curious eyes. Dan notes in his mental filing cabinet that when he wants to know something, Phil’s eyes almost glow. Like an aquamarine gem in direct sunlight.

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I guess. I don’t understand it, but I live with it.”

“Ah,” Phil says and the two head out on the road, Phil directing Dan where to go.

“Phil? Is that you?” a woman’s voice rings out from what seems to be the kitchen. Dan and Phil slip their shoes off and Phil’s mother comes out. She spots Dan and her happy expression turns into a suggestive one, as she winks at Phil, “oh! I see you brought a friend…”

Phil’s eyes widen and he shakes his head, groaning, “oh god, MOM! He’s my art partner!”

Dan chuckles and extends his hand, “I’m Dan Howell,”

“Ooh, good manners too,” she says, her handshake was firm. Then, she nudged Phil, “he’s a keeper.”

“I’m sorry about my mom,” Phil said, once they got to his room. His walls were lined with posters and drawings, along with strings of fairy lights, “she thinks that because I’m gay, she should set me up with every good-looking boy in existence.”

Dan laughed, “it’s nice your mom cares…also, thank you, I have been told my looks are second to none.”

Phil blushed at the comment, but then began to set up their supplies on the floor. Dan was staring at him all the while.

He liked to pick up on small details. Like the tiny, hardly noticeable freckles that dotted the tip of his nose. Or how his hair would fall, shadowing his eyes when he leaned down.

But when he looked up, Dan’s heart would always pound a million times a second. Dan noticed there were specks of green floating around in the blue ocean. They were like two perfectly set sapphires, adorning an already perfect face.

“You’re staring at me,” Phil’s voice was hushed and his fingers come to Dan’s cheeks, “again. Do I have something on your face?”

“W-what?” Dan was flustered as he struggled to find a reason to give, though there really was no explanation there, “no, no! I was just…um…”

“Dan,” Phil looked up, he was holding a long paintbrush and you could almost see the shyness radiating from his lovely pupils, “I’ve seen you staring at me, ever since you met. Why?”

Dan let out a shaky breath, “your eyes. They’re, um, they’re almost hypnotizing…it’s a little crazy actually and I-“

“Everyone in the school says to watch out for Dan Howell,” Phil cut him off, fiddling with the paintbrush, “that he rules the school. You’re the king, don’t give two shits to anyone. But then I meet you, and you stare at me. And it’s so tender…and I start to wonder. I wonder if you’re really the Dan Howell everyone says you are.”

“Phil,” Dan begins, then he realizes he has no explanation. None, except for one. He was in love with Phil, he wanted to stare at his eyes forever. So he doesn’t the most rational thing possible, he kisses Phil Lester.

Phil’s eyes fly open in shock when their lips meet. Then, he closes then and his warm lips begin to kiss back.

Dan’s fingers inch their way towards Phil’s hair, running through the soft tufts on the nape of Phil’s neck. His kiss is deep, passionate and Dan focuses on channeling every ounce of emotion he feels towards Phil in the kiss.

He knows Phil can feel it because Phil its out a soft moan and then a giggle. That same giggle that has the power to paralyze Dan. Phil’s still holding the paintbrush and it tapes against Dan’s back, Phil’s arm was slung over Dan’s shoulder.

They kissed and they kissed and it seemed like time stopped. It wasn’t like when Dan kissed Clara or any other girl at the school. It was special, because what Dan felt for Phil was real.

He was the mysterious new boy, who drew vases that were empty and was kind. The one that read people like a magazine and wasn’t afraid to confront the most popular boy in school. He and his beautiful eyes had drawn Dan in and it was fucking real.

When they pulled apart, they were breathless. Their foreheads pressed together and Dan rubbed his thumb underneath Phil’s right eye.

“So are we gonna draw some flowers for your vase now, or what?” Dan asks, and Phil laughs.

Dan’s flower is blue. The same blue of the boy he fell in love with.