#GOD GRAPHITE EVERYWHERE!!! on my shirt on my FACE!!!

[chalkeater]

ur art is crunchy /pos !!! how do you have the confidence to use stuff that isnt pencil and cant rlly be erased if mistakes are made?

make more mistakes

ACTUAL ANSWER BELOW because it got too long. oops lol

anyway. i wrote “DO IT ON PURPOSE” because when it comes to doing a whole drawing with ONLY a pen- you gotta force your brain get creative- at least practice. in other words- work with what you have. it’s basically like solving a problem every few seconds-

because sometimes my hand eye coordination glitches for a split second. or maybe my hand shook or maybe the line is actually shit looking. but instead of scrapping the thing entirely i gotta to try and make it work. ok so if my line looks like crap here maybe i can make it a Part of the drawing by making everything look messier. OR maybe i can even just. hide it!! by coloring a thicker line along it too!!

you can actually HIDE a LOT of mistakes with a pen without erasing anything. and sometimes the mistakes are part of the art- like when i see the most beautiful art online and i see an uncolored pixel. what matters is your final output not the things you cant change now or mean nothing in the big picture

honestly going from sketch to lines and rendering with a pen is about weight control (like with a pencil- sketching yk) and not beating yourself up. in order to gain the “confidence” you gotta absolutely ANNIHILATE the need for 200% perfection. because theres beauty in a mess.

anyway so. when you get the basic stuff down like “in order to to make less mistakes with pen stuff- make sure youre used to what youre drawing already!!!” or “draw/doodle stupid shit with your pen and make it (pen) a PART of you and not some scary beast (pen)

i think it all stems down to forgiving yourself and just having fun. having fun is always my motto. if you ever go “oh no i made a mistake!!!” imagine me yelling “WHO CAAARRESSS!!!!!!!! (#love #positive)” in your EAR

[yuthoe]

Day 6: Muse (MONSTA X: Lee Minhyuk)

REPOST BC IT DIDN'T SHOW UP IN THE TAGS LAST TIME

i was wondering when i'd finally miss a day of this challenge HAHAHA, but here it iiiisssss! today's prompt is

Day 6: Artist & Model

from this prompts list. i cheated a bit, using a short story i submitted to a creative writing class in college, but i edited quite a bit of it (in the original, the guy is bound and the artist is a woman) bc i wanted to make the reader as gender neutral as i could.

this story is kinda my baby, but at the same time im tired of looking at it by myself and letting it rot unseen in my college files lol. it's probably still horrible tho, even if i did get a relatively high grade for that class HAHAHAHA. i'm putting all of it under the cut bc we going RIGHT TO IT

PAIRING: Lee Minhyuk x reader. GENRE: smut (bc there's bondage and ~feelings~), fic. WARNINGS: bondage, ropes, gagging, mild suggestiveness. WORD COUNT: 1,501.

---

Minhyuk loops the rope one last time around your wrists, the white cotton startlingly bright against your skin. The series of crisscrosses start from your elbows down, secured with a small knot you can easily pull on if you want to unravel the whole thing. Your arms are pulled back behind you, looking almost suspended in movement; the rope gives no leeway, no space to move even an inch.

“How is it?” Minhyuk asks, moving on all fours on the bed to check for any signs of discomfort on his friend’s face. It’s almost a relief to be looking away from the ropes, if he’s being honest. If he weren’t so worried about this being your first time with bondage, he’d probably just sit there and stare at the intersecting lines and patterns the ropes make, the way they dig into the plush of your arms. “Are you good?” he asks again, swallowing.

You shift and squirm, the sheets rustling underneath you as you adjust your position. You open and close your hands, move your shoulders to try and dislodge the ropes, but they won’t budge. While Minhyuk was securing you in the bond, you didn’t feel a pull at all—he was very gentle, and you were even worried the ties would be a little loose.

Obviously, that isn’t the case now, as here you are—donning shorts and a tank top, a gag in your mouth, and your arms securely tied at your back.

Your eyes meet Minhyuk’s and you nod, impressed and a little scared that your friend group’s resident funny man is the kinkiest person you know because, with the way the ropes are tied, the way he walked you through the whole process… it’s like he’s done it before, and multiple times.

But while the sudden realization is scary, it is also very, very hot, so you’re not complaining.

“All right, just stay like that,” Minhyuk says, and you watch him hop off the bed and scurry to the corner of the room to drag the broken-in armchair across the floor. He shifts it this way and that, just out of your field of vision, miniscule adjustments that he insists helps him sketch better. It isn’t the first time you’ve modeled for your partner, so this is all familiar territory.

The ropes and the cloth between your teeth are new, though.

You inhale deeply. Exhale. You try to make yourself comfortable in the pose Minhyuk directed you into, sitting with one leg tucked underneath the other like a mermaid. You’re definitely gonna be sore later.

The springs squeak in the armchair, and you see Minhyuk tucking himself into the seat while flipping to an empty page on his sketchbook. You ground yourself on the familiar sight; he really is pretty, with the sharp jaw and piercing eyes. Sometimes you wonder what it would be like to have any artistic talents, so you could draw him too. Alas, the best you can do to replicate his image is a stick man.

“You still good, Y/N?” he asks, and without waiting for an answer, starts sketching. You hear the faint scratches of the pencil on paper, some light and long, some quick and short with a fuller sound.

It’s quiet, as Minhyuk is always quiet when he draws. He told you once that the silence is calming, the sounds of nature and graphite on paper helping him concentrate. You don’t know how long it’s been since he started sketching—your phone is on the desk at the opposite wall, and the clock’s batteries have run out.

The rhythmic scratching of Minhyuk’s sketching overtakes your senses, makes you doze off. You only notice when you start drooping forward, and you have to stop yourself from plummeting face-first into the mattress.

You shake your head, shift slightly to wake yourself up, and—oh.

Shivers wrack your body. Your arms, stiff with disuse, tingle as the ropes dig into your flesh, and you tense as if trying to break free of the bonds. You feel the resistance of the rope and try to breathe in deeply, keeping the oxygen in your lungs before breathing out slowly. Your back curves forward as you exhale and you struggle keeping in the moan that threatens to erupt from the feel of the rope.

Minhyuk notices the movement and pauses his sketching, moving his canvas out of the way to peek at you. “You okay there, Y/N?”

You take in another deep breath and nod frantically, still facing the direction of the desk, still sitting there how he wants, obedient and pliant.

The next thing you know, the hair that’s fallen into your face is brushed away, and you lift your head to meet Minhyuk’s concerned face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

A shaky nod.

“Really?”

Another nod, more resolved.

“We can stop if you want.”

You shake your head.

Minhyuk purses his lips, weighing whether or not to continue, and you feel a little guilty for worrying him, but you’re overwhelmed!

Finally he sighs. “Think you can wait like, five minutes? I’m almost done, babe.”

You let out a muffled “mhm”.

As soon as Minhyuk steps off the bed, you take another deep breath to compose yourself.

God, his fingers in your hair felt nice. Has it really been that long since you had any physical contact? It took everything in you to not lean into his touch, to not let out a sound, to not disobey him and keep still.

You close your eyes and crack your stiff neck, trying to relax once again. You will your breathing to slow and your body to move back into position, long enough for Minhyuk to finish the sketch. But with each second that passes, with each scratch of graphite that reaches your ears, it gets harder and harder to keep composed.

You can feel yourself sweat, and your thighs are shaking and tired from keeping your position. The rope restricting you feels tighter, its fibers digging into your skin—or is that just your imagination? Has it been five minutes or five hours? You’re not sure.

You take another breath—Is Minhyuk done yet?

The bed dips and you open your eyes. Minhyuk’s dark brown eyes look back at you, satisfied and grateful.

“You were really good, baby, thank you,” he says softly. A hand cups the back of your head and the other pulls down the cloth gag, leaving it to hang around your neck. Minhyuk leans forward and quickly kisses you on the lips.

“Can I get out of these now?” you said, voice hoarse and scratchy from disuse. You try swallowing spit, but it only makes your mouth drier.

Minhyuk snorts. “The sketch looks great, thanks for asking,” he jokes and rolls his eyes. “No joke, though, you look really beautiful like this.” He slowly, gently lifts you up, giving your aching thighs a reprieve and settling you on his lap. You feel his warm hands rub and massage your tender flesh as he smiles at you. “Kinda wanna just have my way with you right now.”

You whine, “You’re killing me here!” and he just answers with a laugh. You squirm, trying to loosen the ropes, but your muscles are jelly. You’re still wound up from being in the ropes too long; you just want to get out of them and hold him again, press kisses into his face and run your hands through his silky hair.

Minhyuk isn’t helping either—his hands are everywhere, squeezing at your waist, running over your still trapped arms, cradling your neck, slipping under your shirt. His lips are at your neck, pressing kisses up your jaw and your ears, further amplifying your need to just touch with your own two hands.

Is this what the girls feel like in all those pornos? The heat, the haze, the feeling of feeling everything and nothing at the same time?

“Man, you knew what you were doing when you asked me to model for you,” you say, voice catching on a moan as he lightly nips at your ear.

Minhyuk chuckles and pulls away, smooths a thumb across your lip. You tremble in his hold. “So…? Wanna have a go? We can just try it out, but if you want to stop in the middle, we’ll stop.”

Would you even want to, though? In the event that you say yes and play out a scene, would you really, voluntarily choose to stop?

Do you want to get out of these ropes? Yes. But do you also want to see what Minhyuk is going to do with you in these ropes?

… Also yes.

There isn’t a doubt right now that you’re really, really absurdly curious as to what Minhyuk has planned for you.

You take a deep, shaky breath and lick your lips, anticipation clear in your eyes. “Okay,” you say, letting him take the reins. But still, you press closer and give him a kiss as you whisper, “I’m all yours.”

[lovelyfictional-imagines]

Learn You Again (The Thirteenth Doctor x Reader)

Hi guys! I’m terribly, terribly sorry for being gone so long. You’ve all been so understanding with me. I appreciate you more than I could ever express.

I originally intended to write this for Twelve as a sort of birthday present to myself(The 25th is my 19th birthday), but I’m a little into Jodie Whittaker. Like, oh my god she’s absolutely gorgeous and I love that little half smile she does. I based height differences off of myself, I’m about 5′4 and she is 5′6, not much taller, but I’d still have to lean up just a bit to kiss her. Not that I’ve imagined that or anything.

This probably isn’t even a somewhat accurate depiction of her, but I tried.

ANYWHO.

This is a little present for me and anyone else who may feel this way.

I hope you enjoy. I also hope this is a good way to ease back into writing again.

Until next fic,

- Ashley 

Word Count: 1, 348

What I listened to while writing: The Trapeze Swinger - Iron & Wine

Gentle tinkling like laughter floated on the dry, cool breeze. On the weathered porch, a young woman loosely clung to a tattered blanket around her shoulders, swaying like the tall brown grass in the yard. Above, the stars reared their shy heads behind wispy clouds, and the moon hid still. She breathed deeply, steadily, rhythmically.

It had been a month now she’d been alone. Dropped off in the house of her dreams, with all the time in the world at her disposal. In that time, she’d completely scrubbed every inch, from the corners of the attic to the soot stained fireplace. She’d come to learn mostly where the worn floorboards creak, which toilet threw fits, and that some days the oven simply refused to roar to life.

When she wasn’t working on her abode, she would sketch. Or read until her mind became distracted, and she’d begin another book. On sunny days she’d walk down the worn trail to a little pond she’d discovered while exploring, dip her toes into the freezing water, then run back with childlike glee. Other times she’d pack a small lunch and lay in the dead grass, eyes to the sky for hours.

At first she’d been grateful for the reprieve, almost glad to have time to herself. But after a few days of curling beneath layers of quilts and comforters, she’d realized just how lonely sleeping alone truly was. When she’d been so accustomed to curling into her owlish old man, of intertwining her bare legs and sock-covered toes into his, that waking up to the sun’s distant presence peeking into her window had begun to disappoint her. Once she’d beg the Doctor to bring them back to the exact moments before dawn so they could sit in awed silence, now she almost resented the sun because he wasn’t there to watch it with her.

Something had felt strange, of late, when her preoccupied thoughts would halt to think of the Doctor. He’d changed in his absence, somehow. Deep in her chest, she could tell, after much consideration. The question struck her in the dead of night, when she’d been lying awake in front of the fire: what if he wouldn’t be the same Doctor he left as?

For days she sat on the edge, attempting to reign in her thoughts from surrendering to worry, to fear, to her almost crippling anxiety.

That night she found her best pencils, her sturdiest paper, and drew different facial features until the sun made its grand entrance, coming to laugh at her. Page after page, eyes and lips and noses were everywhere in every shape she could recall.

Graphite smeared across her knuckles and fingers, on her cheek and forearm she’d pressed into her drawings when sleep found her at last. Around noon she woke, set the kettle on and went out to chop wood. After striking up another fire, having a few cups of tea that warmed all the way to her bones, she made her way into the attic. Rummaging through boxes of memories belonging to someone else, someone she’d never know, she found small pots of paint and carefully tended brushes.

“May I take these?” She whispered, voice hoarse from disuse.

And in that moment, a gentle breeze fluttered through her hair, and she took this as a sign of approval.

With that she clambered back down the stairs, cradling the supplies with almost divine reverence. Shutting the chipped door to her room, she set them down onto her unmade bed, and began tossing blankets onto the floor. Using her feet, she pushed them back into the extended nook of the bedroom. Time had seemed to slow, and every movement she made felt heavy, lethargic almost.

Instead of stopping, (Y/N) reached into her nightstand and withdrew a few thick, unscented candles. Her fingers fumbled for a moment as she attempted to strike match after match. On her fourth try, she managed to light one, breathing life into the candles and setting them on the rough windowsill.

Returning to her original train of thought, she retrieved her sketchbook and the paints.

The first stroke of paint on the page almost took her breath away. Vivid, evocative color spread smoothly beneath the bristles. Tears sprung to her dark (E/C) eyes, and suddenly her chest clenched beneath the sweatshirt she’d thrown on. Leaning back against the wall, she allowed herself to breathe, and her sorrow slipped down her cheeks, along her jaw, dripping into her shirt.

And instead of wiping them, she continued painting. Instinctively her fingers moved, and she gave into the melancholic passion she’d repressed for weeks now.

 -

Suddenly (Y/N) jolted in her sleep and woke immediately. Outside the chimes sung, before stopping, and then continued. The oxygen in her lungs suddenly left her, and before her mind could process anything beyond her consciousness, she’d sprung to her feet. Quickly down through the hall and the stairs, discarding the house’s groaning. Skidding into the living room, she searched the landscape outside of the window, and almost screamed.

Yanking her blanket from the back of the rocking chair, she pried the backdoor and screen open. Near the pond, down the hill, the TARDIS stood in all her glory, glowing beneath the light of the moon. The dull ache of tears pressed into the backs of her eyes, her heart hammered until it sounded like a jet taking off, and her fingers clutched at a hole in the fabric until she was sure she’d made new ones. Gingerly she stepped out onto the rickety porch, turning to the aluminum chimes she’d hung on her first night alone.

(Y/N) looked up, expecting her lanky, aged Doctor with wild silver curls and attack eyebrows. Instead she was met with brilliantly viridescent eyes, feminine and glistening with familiarity as they gazed at her. Short, blonde hair framed a carefully sculpted square face, one with mirth playing in her rosy lips and pointed nose. She was beautiful, absolutely stunning in the way the Doctor always had been.

She didn’t need to ask, and she felt the Doctor knew this.

“I’m aware I may be a bit different.”

Her voice was smooth, evenly-toned, but the smile was evident in it. (Y/N) couldn’t help but grin at her attempt.

“Just a bit. I think it’s the eyebrows that give it away.”

Now she laughed, a melodic sound that reverberated in her chest, instantly filling a crevasse she hadn’t known existed until that moment. It was as if she’d stepped into a bath, warmth trickled through her body despite the crisp autumnal air. (Y/N) laughed with her, before finally stepping towards her.

Though she felt incredibly at ease, one question lingered in her mind, one she needed to ask.

“Has... has anything else changed?”

Looking down at her sock-covered feet nervously, as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, she held her breath and counted to ten.

Before she reached eight, a slender hand slid up her neck and beneath her jaw, drawing her gaze back to the Doctor’s. Again, she was rendered blank, her breath and thought stolen from her. The Doctor’s face was serious, but a smirk was attempting to fight its way onto her face. Strong fingers stroked her cheek, as if trying to gauge her emotions and calm them at once.

“Of course not, love.”

Barely a whisper against her lips as she took initiative, closing the distance between them. Slender arms slid around (Y/N)’s waist, and she released the blanket to throw hers around the Doctor. Plush lips massaged hers skillfully, drawing her closer and closer to her chest.

(Y/N) leaned up, as if trying to mold into her, to learn this new body. Smaller hands drifted up into her bright hair, and laughter bubbled up through her.

“This’ll definitely take some getting used to.”

The Doctor giggled against her, falling into her neck and pressing tenderly.

“We’ve all the time in the world, love.”

(Y/N) chewed her lip, watching her lover with heavy eyes.

“Take me to bed, let me learn you again.”

[lageniuswannabe]

Olicity Hiatus Fic a thon Finally catching up hope to finish the whole thing by next week

Read it on AO3 here---- https://archiveofourown.org/works/14881931/chapters/37231985

Prompt - SurroundedSummary:

surrounded; be all around (someone or something). (Of troops, police, etc.) Encircle (someone or something) so as to cut off communication or escape. Be associated with. "The killings were surrounded by controversy"

I do not own any of the characters they belong to DC these stories are my creative out take on what is presented

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

They had them surrounded on all sides’ one last com check and Overwatch gave them the go signal. Green Arrow approached from the front with the FBI, John and Lyla from the west side of the building with ARGUS agents, The Black Canary as Dinah approached from the rear with a few select SCPD cops and then from the East Wild Dog and Terrific and Nick. Nick a new addition to this all Felicity could think is she hoped he worked well with them. They had gotten intel from Nyssa that the Long Bow Hunters had three places they operated out of in the western United States Thea had sent Roy back to help with the operation but he wouldn’t get there in time and they had to move. After days of satellite surveillance and sending in an operative to a few locations they determined this was where the “Dragon” was holed up with his goons healing after that loud mouth bitch sent him flying into the river. Roy was told that if he arrived in time that he was to shore up the east side with the two losers and the boyfriend, Felicity decided that was a better name for them. As they were approaching all hell broke loose. The Long Bow Hunters appeared and were engaging on three sides as the Dragon and his crew tried to escape through the week link the two idiots and his boyfriend. Just as Felicity thought they were going to lose them again Roy fired an Arrow hitting the Dragon in his right shoulder. Looking up surprised the Dragon started firing at everything and nothing all at once. Roy fired a grappling arrow trapping his one arm to his side and then Terrific sent a t-sphere at him and shocked him with an electrical current causing him to go unconscious. The FBI agents that were waiting on the perimeter engaged and took Dragon into custody. Not without the Long Bow hunters evading capture however their number of followers were now dwindled as the rest were surrounded a rounded up.

“Damn it, Overwatch make sure a couple of ambulances come in Terrific and a couple of agents need attention.” Green Arrow growled into his com.

“They are on their way, now come home. Overwatch out.” Felicity turned off the coms and walked into the living room and shook her head.

They didn’t get the Hunters but at least “Dragon” was captured and they could breathe a little easier. Tomorrow hopefully they can go back to some semblance of normal. The whole damn world knew Oliver was the Green Arrow, what happens tomorrow won��t change everyone’s opinion but it will give them back their lives. New jobs and new lives.

“Felicity, is dad on his way back?” William asked coming up from behind her.

She turned and patted the couch next to her, “Yeah he is on his way back, sweet boy. Have you worked on your next lesson for school?”

“No, not really I couldn’t concentrate I just kept sending out thoughts about not losing my dad again.” William leaned over as Felicity pulled him in for a hug.

“We are definitely not going to let that happen ever again.” Just then her phone chimed.

BW- Ms. Smoak I hope that we can set up a meeting between us Selena was very impressed with the implant and now that you are no longer in hiding so to speak would that be possible.

She turned her phone back over, William looked at her. “I’ll answer him later you are more important to me right now. William with this new deal it means we will be working with the government so that they can learn how to do what dad does and at least finally be able to capture these criminals. Plus that means that Dad doesn’t have to be the Green Arrow forever so we can be a family more. I loved doing this when we were both younger but now after having to deal with Immortals, Aliens, Nazi Doppelgangers and Meta Humans I think we are both getting to that point when we want to step back and be a family and see where that adventure takes us.”

“Well I hope that means I get a brother or sister from that.” William smiled at his Step-mother a woman who has become so much more than that to him.

“Hey,” Oliver walked in just then. “So do I William.”

“You have like super hearing or something?” William asked.

“No, but if you only have the screen door closed I can hear through that.” He leaned over and kissed Felicity on the top of her head. Felicity smiled and stood up. Walking around the couch she grabbed his face in her hands and pulled him to her, Oliver wrapped his arms around her and kissed his wife properly.

“Before that happens this little monster on your face has to go.” William laughed and Oliver groaned.

………

The next morning as she was getting ready for the ceremony Oliver called her into the bathroom.

“Do you want it completely gone or what?” Oliver looked at Felicity.

Felicity took the scissors from him and put the lid of the toilet down instructing him to sit. She moved the trash can more into view. She started taking the biggest chunk off first then she started clipping closer to his face. The whole while Oliver was drawing circles with his thumbs on her hip, it was becoming distracting. She leaned in and kissed him then stepped back, She brought the scissors back up and trimmed a little bit more until it was perfect nail scratching length. “There’s my husband, perfect.” She leaned in and kissed him again. “Now we need to get ready to go.” She backed up and went to finish getting ready.

She had laid out his grey suit with a blue tie that matched his eyes and Felicity was wearing the black dress with the cut outs in them. William knocked on their door.

“Do I have to wear a tie? I can’t figure it out.” William looked at his Dad and Oliver took the tie from him motioning for him to stand in front of the mirror.

“My Father had all these meetings and Gala’s to go to where the family had to go with him and he taught me how to tie my tie this way.” He showed William in the mirror how to do it and then he undid it. “Now you try and I will tell you the steps.”

Felicity watched this unfold in front of her and she had small tears in her eyes. Thank God her mother taught her what make-up to buy that wouldn’t run everywhere. When they were done the little family stepped into the living room.

“We ready to get going?” John asked.

The family nodded, they climbed into the waiting SUV’s and drove back to Star City for the first time in months. The city that they had started trying to rebuild was in chaos again and it felt like there was nothing they did that changed anything. Then they passed a park and a group of citizens were there wearing green shirts and cleaning and fixing the park, a little further on there was a group of kids wearing green shirts cleaning graphite off a building. Felicity smiled as the further they got to city centre they saw more and more groups doing something to clean up the city, maybe they did inspire some. She turned and looked at Oliver, as tears were coming down his face she cupped his cheek and kissed him. ”Your sacrifice was appreciated be proud Oliver I love you so very much.”

“Thank you.” Was all he could manage?

“We’re here.” John said from the front, “looks like the press hasn’t forgotten you.”

“Vultures!” William snarled.

Felicity looked at him and said. “We just smile and say nothing; they will only get what is being said at the ceremony. We do not need to add anything to their by-line, okay?”

“Okay.” William nodded.

John stopped in front of City Hall, a place Oliver thought he would never see again. He hoped that some of what he had done as Mayor had made changes to the city. Standing on the steps in front was the President of the United States several secret service people and Laurel, What the hell he looked at Felicity. “What is she doing there?”

“That’s right she is the new, old District Attorney, there is still no Mayor so she has been influencing council from behind the scenes. We can’t really expose her because that would completely ruin our Laurels reputation. I cannot believe no one has discovered she has no idea what being a lawyer actually entails. But no one said the citizens of Star City are the sharpest tools in the shed.”

“Oh dear lord, what has she done?” Oliver groaned and ran his hands over his face.

“Let’s go.” John said as he stepped out of the car and came around to open the door for them.

Notes:

Thank you @thebookjumper for doing this I am sorry I did not keep up hope to finish all the prompts by next week.

Much love Olicity Fandom

Actions

[17cafe]

art class with joshua

first (full) day of school u have art class!!

and like u know you aren’t the best but still you don’t like.. suck

so you go in not too nervous or anything

but the boy who sits right in front of you? facing you?? shy

shy as heck i can tell u that

the assignment you got was just to draw the person in front of you bc the teacher wanted to see like where your skill levels were

so you were like ok easy peasy and looked at him like fully for the first time bc his head was hanging low until now

and when you see him

you try so hard to hold back a gasp

and he sees you and no lie his mouth kinda just.. drops a little

like his lips part and his eyes widen a little

but you barely notice bc it isn’t anything big

so when it came time for him to draw you.. so shy

he was so shy looking at you

he would try to memorize your face so he didn’t have to stare too long because he’s a firm believer in thinking it’s rude to stare

but he just can’t memorize your face bc you’re a new person!! so he would get all caught up in it

like stare at you for a good solid minute looking how your face changes when you draw

and smile to himself before looking down at the paper like yeah. yeah this is good that’s a good face i like it im gonna draw it

and he can’t get it right bc he’s new to art

so

for the next couple months whenever he has some time he tries drawing you again

because he needs to improve until he gets it perfect he can’t live unsatisfied with how he draws your face

and here’s the cliche thing

one day in art class

its right before semester change so like early february ok

one day in art class he left to go get a new piece of paper for sketching ideas for the current assignment

and he left his sketchbook at his spot

and when someone walked past, their sweater caught on to it and it fell

you just kinda instantly go to pick it up bc you guys have become friends sitting across from each other for 5 months so ur like !!!

but

you see your face

and your features covering the two pages that you can see

and ur like oh my god.. and you pick it up and kinda flip through it an d see little studies of your eye expressions and hair from different angles

when he comes back he’s like NO

MNONONOO

ur like joshie-boo, this is beautiful

and he covers his face with the paper he got and he’s like ohhh noooo and u put the sketchbook back on the table and hug him from the side so it isn’t too like,, u know

and he puts the paper down and hugs you properly and he’s all shy so he’s looking away but you

your eyes are closed and you’re smiling and smelling his shirt he smells so o good and ur so in bliss bc it’s the first time you hugged

but he’s all “im so sorry im sorry it’s weird im sorry-”

you’re like joshie!! don’t worry about it :-)

he’s like no it’s so weird it probably creep u out

you pull back to look at his face and ur like Joshua. i am flattered

he’s all

“oh really? you’re not just saying that? you’re not just saying that then gonna move to another table?” and ur like no pls look,,

and you show him a bunch of drawings of him you did and hes like OH YEA and like high fives u and you guys laugh

and then brings the stool he sits on from his side of the table to beside you instead bc he likes you he wants to be close to you so he can see your features closer and can add detail he couldn’t see before

and then joshua like.. u know he’s drawing because today’s assignment was painting but he’s sketching away

it’s looking like his hands gonna fall off it’s moving so fast.. and you try watching but he turns his back to you and covers the sketchbook with his arm like “no u can’t look until it’s done!!!!”

the graphite gets on his sleeve but he doesn’t care at all hes just drawing so fast and there’s lines everywhere but from what you can see it still looks neat and put together

its like him,, lines everywhere but somehow still neat idk

but @ the end of class the teacher is like clean up guys

and you go to put your paper in the drying rack and wash your brushes and all that

and when you look over when u finish joshua’s gone and ur like :((

but you go back to your seat and pick up your bag and theres a folded paper under it??

when you unfold it you’re like Joshua Hong what did you draw i swear..

and you see a sketch of you holding a big heart with a big smile and eyes squinty and theres a scribbled note on it saying “I didn’t have time to finish but I’ll give you the finished thing next class <3″

sure as heck he gives you a finished one next class.. this time with you and him holding the heart.. cute..