#and used for the first time my set of pastel pencils i got from my sister like year and a half ago

[yeehawbvby]

Leah with a farmer that was trying to be an artist, but got stuck in the dead-end Joja job and decided to quit to be a farmer, but now they miss being able to make art cause there's like no time in the day for it, so Leah sets up a whole thing for them to just make art for a whole day.

I’ve barely written for Leah before, so fingers crossed this is alright!! :’) Hope you don't mind the established relationship either.

Thanks so much for your patience, I hope you enjoy! x 

Down by the River (Leah x GN!Reader)

Rating: G | WC: 933

Sometimes when I’m out amidst my crops, I lay down for a bit and look up at the sky. I study the way the clouds make vivid shapes from their vapor; how birds fly in a perfect pattern, going Yoba knows where; the way the inner atmosphere of our planet looks hand-painted by Lupini himself. 

Other times, I’ll sit amongst my chickens and ducklings by the pond, amazed at how brightly their feathers contrast against the dull dirt, and how the water sparkles as it splashes against their plump little bodies that float atop it.

There’s so much beauty in nature, and while I love what I do, I want nothing more than to be able to create something just as beautiful as the scenery I work in every day, of every month, of every year.

My wife gets to do such things for a living. I love Leah more than life itself, but I can’t help the jealousy that seeps through me as I watch her etch away at old wood, or paint anything she wants on hand-stretched canvas at any given time of the day. It’s one of the things I love most about her – her love for art being just as fierce as mine – but I wish I could be at her side, collaborating on pieces, or simply being in each other’s presence while we do our own thing.

One early spring morning, I wake up to an empty bed. I’m used to this, though. Leah’s always been an early bird. Unlike most mornings, there’s a note waiting for me on her pillow.

“Hope you slept well <3

There’s something I wanna show you! Meet me at my place at 10.

(Don’t worry about the farm – I got up extra early to water the crops and feed the animals.)

Enjoy your morning off! :) 

P.S. There’s some freshly cut fruit in the fridge, if you want some with your breakfast!”

Relief washes over me as I lay back down on my pillow. Even through winter, I’m often busy cleaning the barns and coops or upkeeping our wine and cheese fermentation... It’s been so long since I’ve been able to simply be, much less spend even a few mere hours with my love. I take the opportunity she’s given me to sleep in a little bit longer.

_______________

As I approach Leah’s cottage, I shift through a few different emotions. 

First up is confusion. What’s all this stuff laid out on her front lawn? There’s a huge, yellow gingham picnic blanket sprawled by the river, with a small record player next to it. The blanket is covered in paints, small canvases, wood blocks, clay…

My second feeling is happiness. I notice that on the blanket is also a bottle of Blue Moon wine, with two cups and two water bottles all placed neatly in a straw basket. There are two palettes and two sets of brushes of varying sizes. Two sets of pencils, charcoals, pastels; two clusters of tools to carve and sculpt with.

Third? Love. Having expected me, Leah exits her old home just as I near her set-up. Her hair, as usual, is draped to the side in a long braid, but today she’s woven small flowers into it. Her freckled, sun-kissed cheeks are dusted beautifully pink as she looks at me from large, periwinkle eyes, waiting for my reaction to her surprise. 

“Do you like it?” she asks, basking in the scene she’s created. “I know it’s been bugging you that you never really have time to make your own art, so I figured we could spend the day doing just that!”

I nod, tears welling in my eyes. “Leah, this is perfect,” I sniffle, pulling her into my arms. Her hugs have always been just as warm and welcoming as her paintings. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Thank you.” She pulls away from my embrace, takes my hands in hers, and meets my lips with a soft kiss before explaining herself. “You’re the reason I’m able to spend as much time on personal projects as I do commissioned work. You’ve given me the best life I could’ve asked for.”

Leah beams at me, and I swear her smile makes my stomach flutter with butterflies. She continues softly, “You know, you can ask me for help on the farm any time you want. I know you take pride in your work, but you deserve time to do the things you love too. Okay?”

I nod again, feeling a weight that I didn’t know my shoulders bore being lifted off them. Untangling our fingers, I cup Leah’s face and kiss her again. “I love you so much.” Placing my forehead gently against hers, I whisper, “Seriously, thank you for this.”

“I love you too.” My wife plants a kiss on the tip of my nose before pulling away again. She playfully quips, “You can thank me by making some cool stuff for me to look at! Come on!”

I follow her onto the blanket, my cheeks sore from grinning so widely. “Let me draw your portrait?” 

“Only if I can paint yours!” she counters. 

Having been so long since I’ve last made anything, I start off feeling a bit rusty. But just as fluidly as the river flows, I sink back into a familiar rhythm. With some of the most picturesque scenery one could ever imagine, everything I need to create anything I want within an arm’s reach, and my amazing partner at my side, I have the most perfect day I could’ve asked for.

[mithclearwell]

Just out of curiouse, do you have any tips for beginner artists? I would really appreciate one

Of course! ^-^ I'm more than happy to help!

Let's see...without the ability to have a conversation, I'm not sure where exactly you are in skill level, so I guess I'll start with some basic quality-of-life tips.

General:

You don't have to go to college to get good at art. I didn't go to art school!

Watch youtube videos from good artists, or those you admire!

What kind of art do you ultimately want to produce? This isn't an instance of "I can only pick one thing", it's more like...each type of art requires different skills, and if you know ahead of time what you want to do FIRST, you can narrow down what you have to learn.

learn proper sketching and use of circles and other shapes to build the figure, don't just jump in making the final lines right away! It's not a "cheat", it's proper technique. It's "caring about your work".

Same for references. Google up some images of what you want to draw and look at them while you draw your own picture. It's not only okay, it's what professionals do. You need to train your EYE as well as your hand.

It's okay to mimic styles you like! But be aware that each artist may stretch or squish or exaggerate proportions to fit what they personally like to see. This is why it's IMPERATIVE that you learn realism alongside any manga style you want to try. Once you learn where the eyes sit on the face, the different facial planes and what bones they relate to, and different sizes and builds for the face, you can then manga them up to any style you want!

For real paper:

Use a protector sheet, or wear a glove on your drawing hand. You want to make sure you don't get graphite or colored pencil on the side of your hand, and then smear it on your drawing. Placing a piece of paper under your hand will protect your work!

Don't touch your art with your fingertips. Fingertips have oil and gunk on them, and will smudge your drawing. (If you're working with charcoal, this could work to your advantage! But you're probably not using charcoal. It's messy and usually limited to college art students.)

Get the right tools! You can buy a small eraser set in the art section of Wal-Mart for like $3 -- it has a polymer eraser, a smaller white eraser, and the all-important KNEADED ERASER. This thing can be squished and torn apart and it'll pick up graphite like a champ! Do not bother with hard pink erasers, they're trash.

You don't need special paper to learn. I used to draw on the backs of my dad's extra math photocopy papers. Copy paper is smooth and not too fussy and I like it. "Sketch pads" usually have a rougher grain, and I hate the way the paper feels. Also there's a lot of ugly white spots when you try to shade or use colored pencils. Only use that if you're keeping a cute little book or using pastel crayons or something (or it's all you have). Don't fuss over it too much while you're learning. It won't make much difference until you're ready to specialize!

Blending stumps are cool and even pros use them.

Get a small electric pencil sharpener. They're less than $10 at places like Dollar General, and those stores are literally everywhere.

If you get a manual sharpener in an "art set", that's fine, too, but it hurts my hand to do it manually. I like the ones that have little covers.

It DOES matter what kind of ink pen you use. Gel pens will smear. Most markers are washable, and you better believe they will run at the first hint of moisture. India Ink also smears and runs with water. I recommend Sakura Micron pens, Zig Mangaka pens, or my favorite --- the Kuretaki Bimoji felt tip brush pen. You can get all that on Amazon, and it's like $6. I got the superfine tip.

LET YOUR INK DRY BEFORE YOU PUT MARKERS OR WATERCOLOR OR ANYTHING AT ALL OVER IT. It takes maybe 20 minutes.

If you don't plan to color it, you CAN draw with a ball point pen and it'll look just fine.

Do a tiny little water streak test with any markers you plan to use with watercolor. Just brush a tiny bit of water over the mark after it's dry to see if it bleeds. I use that bleed to my advantage sometimes, but you just gotta be aware of what's what.

Digital:

You can buy a small, cheap tablet from HUION for less than $40. MAKE THE INVESTMENT. IT'S WORTH IT.

Clip Studio Paint is EXCELLENT. Well worth the $50-$60 price tag. I think you can try it before you buy it, too. It gives you access to the Asset Store -- which is the single greatest artistic sharing tool I have EVER seen, and I've used SAI for ...probably a decade... I've used dozens of custom brushes and even made my own, and I just can't even believe what is available with CSP. Do yourself a favor and get it.

"But I can't use a tablet! I can't look at a screen while I draw!" Yes you can. YES you can. Yes you can, if you'll just try it. "but I tried once and it didn't work" Well YEAH, if you only tried a handful of times, OF COURSE it didn't work. Do you know what practice is? HUION screen tablets are over $300!!!!! Do you have that kind of disposable income lyin around? (plz donate some to me if you do lololjk =u=; )

Start saving a folder full of refs.

Ask people to tell you what to draw. Let them request something for free. This makes you draw things you wouldn't normally draw, and there is INCREDIBLE value in stepping outside of your comfort zone. You will level up in no time.

Whew...that covers most of the basics, I think. If you have something specific you want me to go into more detail on, please let me know! I love helping ;w;

[little-mouse-gardens]

Rottmnt oc headcannons

Part four : Angie

Alright, I officially finished Angie’s head-cannons. Akdjdak sorry it took me so long, I’ve been really busy for the past few months and got kind of distracted. Plus I was trying to add a few more headcannons for her and I couldn’t settle on how many I wanted to add.

Anyways here they are ^W^ also gonna be linking each of my four rise oc’s headcannons in my introduction post as well

- she learned to cook mostly on her own. Kind of observing from afar by watching her mother and sisters work when she was younger at first and then doing it herself as she got older. Slowly learning more and more along the way.

- let’s Mikey paint her nails to match her outfit, mood or just for the randomness of it after she taught him how to paint nails or let’s him paint a few random little shapes on her using her graphic liners for the exact same reasons. He may or may not love adding flowers across her cheeks and nose like freckles.

- her sisters and Mikey’s brothers swear the pair share a brain cell

- they like to give each other piggyback rides. Bought one of those oversized hoodies so they could both wear it at the same time for cuddles on the go

- Angie likes to collect squish-mallows or just plushies in general. Like A LOT of them. Has one of those little hammocks hanging above one side of her room where she keeps them. She will lend them out to Mikey, her sisters, April, the other turtles if they want one. Her favorite is a strawberry frog squish-mallow that she found at a thrift store and likes to hold it to calm down from being overstimulated.

- hates. Hates. Absolutely hates Being sick because she hates being stuck in bed and she’s hates the sensory issues that come with it. Mainly the fact she can barely smell or taste anything when she’s sick.

- always willing to try new foods, baked goods, drinks ect. Her and Mikey like to cook or bake together

- loves cozy games, her favorite would have to be animal crossing or Minecraft, she made an entire candy land themed carnival in Minecraft

- owns a lot of pastel clothing, also a lot of different aesthetics inhabit her closer but a common theme with a lot of her clothes is prints, embroidery or cute patterns.

- is currently learning knitting, and trying to teach raph and sunny how to knit

- a lot of dates she and Mikey go on once they start dating involve going to small bakeries or random places to paint. Picnic dates on the rooftops or at the park are a must with them

- if Mikey is hiding in his shell, Angie will literally just sit down beside him and watch random videos or listen to music together until he comes out. However if he wants to be carried around, she will do that as well

- adores stickers, buying them and making them, collecting them and giving them to her friends and family as a kind gesture. She and Mikey literally somehow give each other a new sticker like three to four times a week

- her favorite bag is a pink Shiba Inu boba bag, puts a punch of pins and charms in the spaces where pins and charms can be put

- Has an entire little office in her room just dedicated to her working on art. Organized drawers of markers, colored pencils, paints ect. A shelf of sketchbooks and canvases, a drawing tablet always charged and ready for hours of drawing

- is absolutely terrified of hippos. (loves the pigmy hippo) she has a phobia of hippos after one nearly bit her arm at a zoo when she tried to feed it watermelon when she was little

- A bad habit of hers is pushing down/setting aside her own feeling of sadness or anger to comfort and tend to others. So much so that sometimes, when she gets to a quiet spot where no one can bother her, after a rough situation she will just sit there and cry and this is something that honestly takes her awhile to officially work on,

- enjoys sitting up on the roof or any spot with a good view of the sunrise or sunset. Something about seeing all the colors fade in together brings her a sense of joy

- has a big fear of anything sharp or anything that could burn her eyes getting near her face after the whole incident with the kraang, where she was nearly splattered in the face by the slightly acidic blood. The only reason she was saved is because she managed to duck down just in the nick of time

- has three pet rats named princess peach, princess Daisy and princess Rosalina

- Her favorite pizza is just plain cheese pizza with some spices and peppers added on

- absolutely loves boba, her fav flavors are usually sweet like cotton candy, chocolate, vanilla, birthday cake ect.

- when the girls go to their grandparents farm, she immediately goes running to her favorite spot to go explore-which is an abandoned cabin she fashioned into a cottage

- Absolutely loves doing her hair, she has a notebook of all the styles she wants to give her curls. She’s got organized drawers for all her cute hair ties, scrunchies and hair clips. Her hair care routine is a something that actually brings her a lot of comfort when she’s stressed

- she loves shopping and visiting farmers markets and art fairs. She has to stop and look at every booth she can and when she’s at the farmers market? Except her to come home with at least one new plant or some homemade goods

- was diagnosed with autism and adhd when she was about fix or six

- After the kraang incident, she has a hard time with people moving their hands near the right side of her face without warning for a long while (a kraang blood almost got in her eyes and damn near blinded her) the only person she trusts to do that is honestly Mikey, because he quite literally was the one to shield her from getting directly hit head on when she lost the shield she’d been holding

- She and mikey confessed to eachother when he invited her over to the lair for a movie marathon and they had their first kiss on their first date, which was a rooftop picnic

- She doesn’t have too many nightmares after the kraang incident….just a specific two nightmares that come every once in awhile that are very very vivid that honestly freak her out. After she has them she usually either stays up for a little while and hangs out with her sisters in the living room for comfort or she goes out on a walk. If Mikey’s awake she’ll just pop over to the lair and talk with him for a while. Especially if they’ve both been having a rough night dealing with nightmares.

- she painted a mural in each of her sisters rooms. A sunny field for her sister sunny, the beach for her sister Skye and a fairy garden for her sister Marcy

- absolutely hates getting sick, like she tries to avoid getting sick when she can. However she doesn’t mind helping others out when they are sick…she just seems a little more cautious than usual

- Has a irrational fear of fire ants due to an incident she had when she was a child

- When the turtles had to defeat the shredder, Angie got a small scar from the incident on her left side when she pushed mikey out of the way of getting hit, which she covers up with some tattoos later on

- Has always wanted to cosplay princess peach. She’s got a whole vision board and everything

- Current champion of Mario party among her sisters (shes just oddly good at Mario party for some reason)

- She likes to bring her friends and family little gifts that remind her of them. Like for example she made April a set of flower charms for her bag or she brought Mikey a new apron after his old one got ruined while he was cooking

- She does talk in her sleep and girl says the most out of context random sentences when that happens

- her biggest goal is to one day open and run her own bakery

[sparklingpax]

As mentioned here, I had pitched this landiver animatic as my final project for my Drawing class, and it was approved! >:3 So here's the finished product, the animatic (and also some extra notes below the cut 🫡)

<333 enjoy!! 💗💕✨❤️

...

Notes!!!!!!

-song is "All This Making Love" by Bee Gees, and was what I initially inspired the concept (a love that has tension, a love that "spills over", like the wine there) and like literally everything about it Immediately made me think of landiver soooooo........I caved and sketched out some layouts....and to my surprise they were approved!! So that helped me conquer the sheer level of work (example: I literally did not sleep for the last three days before it was due, working on the final chunk of technical stuff......tonight will be my first proper rest in months actually lmaooooo), bc it was powered mainly by personal interest and investment 🥰 I really wanted to make this happen and I'm overjoyed I stuck through it and did, handed everything in on time, got very nice compliments from both my professor and my classmates :3333

-guys look I needed an easy to understand setting for my initial viewers (prof and class) so that's why it's this house and not the HQ (imagine a setting in which the four pretenders are rooming in this house and the sequences take place when the others are out yk yk 🫣✨ but yea if you were wondering

-heres the actual physical comic pages! Won't do it here but they're supposed to be set up vertically, one on top of the other sort of deal 💫 I used: pencil, colored pencils, inking pens, alcohol-based markers, oil pastels (my first time too!), and a touch-up here and there w a white gel pen; and yes I manually sharpie'd in the borders/bg 👊

*text was left out after much consideration bc I didn't wanna ruin the color layering (specifically the pastel) so it was added later in procreate (after individually photographing and editing every frame individually...🫡)

-uhhhhhhhh yea! That's all I can think of......hope you enjoy :]

-man do I fucking love art school /gen 🫶🫶🫶🫶🥰✨💖❤️💕✨💗

:D

[marshmallowprotection]

Hi! I see that since you mentioned match ups are open people have eagerly hopped in. I honestly don't blame them since you're so good at it. It's really fun reading everyone's match ups so I wanted to give it a go too! I wanted to avoid mentioning or comparing characters to avoid influencing the results but like simplifying a person's personality is hard so I'm just gonna roll with it, lol.

In terms of personality, I'm an introvert but that doesn't mean I'm shy. I can be (I have, like, 3 different anxiety diagnosis) but usually I'm generally low energy and relaxed. Very deadpan. So much so much so that people tend to laugh even when I'm being serious. I'm a Taurus and I find the description very much fitting. I take pride in being pragmatic, grounded, down to earth. I like taking care of people in a more realistic way (and just in general). In spite of seeming calm or blunt I'm actually really sensitive and emotional (although I'll never show others my vulnerability). I always try to consider the other person's feelings which is why I'm often called kind and considerate. A good listener. I'm quiet so that comes with the territory lol. I generally don't like to talk about myself and will only say something if asked/spoken to first. In simple terms I'd say I'm a weird mix of Jumin(practical, decisive, analytical) and V(emotional, sentimental, self sacrificing). I always end up getting the most hearts from them when I respond honestly especially Jumin haha. One last thing for me is that along with my millions of anxiety disorders(including paranoia so I heavily relate to Rika and Saeyoung) I also have ADHD(I guess *also* like Saeyoung lolol). As I'm sure you can tell by now I don't have the one that makes me bounce off the wall. I believe the one I have is called inattentive and it makes me a total space cadet. But I was very imaginative and creative so I think it was good trade off? I'm pretty sure my mom thought child me was a plant because I was so quiet and still. Never cried that much and was an "easy" child except when she had to coax me to do things. Then I was stubborn lolol. Definitely a Taurus haha.

For work and study, ever since I could hold a crayon I've been drawing and art has always been my focus. In public school I'd pick the all the art classes and I'd even take outside classes during summers off and when I grew out of that I'd do self study with books and online tutorials. I do illustration and graphic design and my major in college was visual communication design (which is a wordier way to say graphic design). I got my associates but sadly had to drop while doing my bachelor's (would love to get a master's and study art forever but it's just a dream for now). Currently, I work as a bakery clerk part time until I can get a better job but I like it. I like seeing people's faces light up saying "SO PRETTYYY~" when they see our cakes. I do a little bit of everything so bread bagging, baking, set up, orders, cake decorating. It's very well rounded job where I'm breaking a sweat and feel like I'm earning my dollar while also having creative input. I like giving the customers advice for their get togethers and parties. It's nice. I'd like to one day have my own brand and put myself out there as an artist but for now this is fine enough.

When it comes to hobbies I feel like it's on the nose cause I like to be creative and have my hands moving. The obvious is drawing (both digitally and traditionally. Love using soft chalk pastels) and baking but I also like more crafty hobbies like crocheting and scrapbooking. I'm a big stationary nerd and I love collecting paper, notebooks, stickers/washi taped, pens/pencils, ect. Been into watching bookbinding vids. I also have the more typical hobby of listening to music, reading (big book nerd put me in a book store I'll leave with a tall stack), big gamer nerd.

Some other miscellaneous info about me is my favorite color is green 💚. I generally like deep earthy, natural colors but I also like gentle pastels like pink and lavender. I'm a big dog person and I dislike cats. I'm actually afraid of them and they cause me a lot of anxiety. I would never cause trouble for them and I hope they are homed to people that genuinely adore them. I just don't jive with them. I can and have taken care of them in a pinch. I wouldn't let my personal stuff cause them harm. I definitely understand and relate to dogs more. I want to grow old with a bunch of pups to take care of lol. I don't want kids so cute puppers will do. I have hazel eyes and rusty red hair. When I was younger my hair was much brighter yellow orange compared to Saeyoung but as I got older it turned into a deeper, darker rust red. I also have freckles all over. My favorite shape is stars! I love astrology and magic and whimsy (again such a contrast from how I present lolol ⭐)

Im more prone to forgiving and moving on and I found Saeran's AE really relatable. It brought up a lot of topics that were really important to me that I feel a lot of people overlook in stories about healing from abusive parents. I really can't hold onto my anger for very long and generally prefer to look at people for what they are and either work with them or move on. I don't like letting others take my time and energy which is why I'm "nice", or at least normal, to even people i don't like. I feel like being petty and angry all the time is draining. It's just my style of healing. On the contrary I find anger and yelling very triggering for me even from friends who I know won't hurt me or are speaking on my behalf. The antagonististic energy is just very uncomfortable. I prefer a gentle touch I can trust. Everyone is capable of getting angry, it's healthy and normal, but I prefer someone who's first instinct isn't to jump to anger but understanding. Makes me feel safe.

That's about everything I can think of. I don't normally think about myself so it's hard to write haha. Hopefully that all made sense. Thanks for taking the time if you see this. 😊

I match you with...

Jihyun!

Hear me out, I know this might sound odd, but you seem to fall into the same realm as his heart.

Don't take this to mean that you're self-destructive, it's actually that you're passionate and that this passion is what inspires you to be who you are. Even though it may not be a lucrative career to survive as an artist, you find a way to make it work, and in doing so, you don't sacrifice what helps you feel like you have artistic liberty. Not a lot of people have that opportunity, and it would be interesting to be close to Jihyun, wouldn’t it? He didn't give up on his dream of painting, he simply found something else to fill the void in his chest because his father made him believe he would never be able to make it. 

Seeing you be your most authentic self is a challenge to everything he's ever told himself. You're the kind of person who challenges him, because while you are similar, you are inherently different, as well. It's not a bad thing, it's something he welcomes, and he can't help but want more. 

He's not the kind of person who's going to jump to anger when something goes wrong. You don't have to be afraid of being in a conversation with him, especially not with the two of you are upset, because he has a level enough head to know that you need to take some time to breathe, and do whatever you need to do before you come back to the conversation. Nothing ever feels like it's going to explode when you're with him. It feels like you can overcome any challenge that comes your way. 

[aajjks]

BC!JK

you watch your diary burn turning from it’s pastel pink to a burnt black with tears in your eyes. you wish you were strong enough to slap some sense into him or maybe punch him in his smirking face but you can’t. you’re so scared and weak.

very weak.

“i hate you” you mumble under your breath and before jungkook could say anything, here comes danielle to your rescue. “leave her alone or i’m telling the principle” danielle says with a glare and jungkook glares back. he isn’t scared of your little friend, he isn’t scared of anybody not even the principle.

he runs this school so why should he be nervous about the principle? he’s already been suspended before and even that didn’t stop him but he can tell your little ‘friend’ won’t back down unless he does.

so to spare you out of whatever kindness that is left in his heart, he walks away proudly smirking and sadly hurting while danielle goes to pull you in for a hug.

“are you okay, y/n? did he hurt you?”

“n-no but” you cry “he burned my journal and-and they know about my crush on eunwoo! what if *sniffle* what if they tell him that i like him?”

“isn’t that a good thing?”

“NO!!! eunwoo is our senior. he doesn’t like me! gahhh this is so embarrassing” you cry in your hands as danielle tries to soothe you.

“if it makes you feel any better i’ll buy another journal for you? but this time it’ll have a locket” danielle jokes and it does make you laugh. she’s always been corny and you adore that about danielle.

“thanks danny, you’re so helpful” you say in a sarcastic tone which causes her to laugh too. “c’mon, the bell’s gonna ring any minute now”

although you aren’t feeling the best, you still try to wear a smile on your face. you attend your classes, take your notes, and cutely push up your spectacles when you’re really focused.

first it was mathematics, then literature, english, history, and finally your favorite elective creative arts.

you unfortunately share this class with that bastard jungkook but he never shows up and is often skipping classes doing who knows what and you don’t care but everything can’t always go your way.

“oh, mr. jeon glad you could FINALLY make time for the art class you never attend. have a seat please and ask one of your classmates to help you catch up”

and guess who that person is?

“You. Yn. Help me catch up With the class.” he says as he sits beside you because you don’t really have a partner, of course.

You are so lonely. He sets his bag on the other side, and he makes sure that he’s comfortable, and Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment to look at you and he’s waiting for you to respond.

And while he’s doing that he focuses on your face, you’re so simple. No make up just glasses and neat hair, he doesn’t really know what it is about you thats got him so infatuated with you? You are very quiet and sensitive.

It almost makes him want to protect you, but.. you just have to make him so angry. And he kind of regrets hurting your feelings like that but he doesn’t really regret burning that fucking diary of yours.

“Come on loser, are you deaf or what? Help me catch up.” he rolls his eyes, manspreading. He pretends to glare at you so he can just look at your face with more focus.

You sigh so innocently and just pick up your pencil and ask him to pay attention to the book that you have opened on your table.

Your mannerisms are so cute.

And of course he’s not focusing on the book.

“No visual. I just want you to tell me with your mouth.” He smirks. “Let’s use that mouth to some good use yeah? Or is it only good for crying or whining?” He laughs, the attention of the class on him suddenly but when the professor scolds him, he just stops.

And you start to tell him it’s got something about to do with production, boring. He’s not even interested in production. But it’s good to see you talk to him like that so casually.. but it is also really cute how you avoid eye contact with him, it’s like you’re almost shy.

Maybe you are.

“Hmm… boring. Give me your number.”

[wweeird]

Your art is wonderful! Am I correct in assuming you work in pastel? If so, what pastels do you use? What got you started as an artist, and what drew you to your medium? Also thanks for the love on my intro post <3

thank you!! I’m so grateful! and you’re quite right, my non-digital art is almost always done in mixed media, and pastel is one of my favourite art supply to work with but it’s always pastel plus something else. f. e. it could be oil pastel + pastel pencils + markers / or crayons / or coloured pencils / or ink / or something else / or everything in the same time. 

I use soft pastels set from Faber-Castell and I l o v e pastel pencils (and h a t e to sharpen them lol) which I have from very different brands: my favourite are from Caran d'Ache but they aren’t very cheap, so mostly there are Derwent pastel pencils in my pencil case. As for oil pastel, I prefer Sennelier’s. I know that they’re hated by some artists for being too soft but I personally adore them for that. And of course they aren’t very cheap either, so if I need more colors I just go to the nearest children’s art supply store and buy Van Gogh oil pastel from Royal talents.

I’ve been drawing all my life, but I’ve had kind of huge hiatus for 4-5 or even more years because I thought that if I’m a poet I can only write, that is to say I need to concentrate only on one thing and can’t waste my energy on other stuff (I was mistaken). But then something’s happened (many things actually) and I felt a drive to make visual art again and ever since (for 1-2 years now) I paint, I draw every day. I’m still a poet first but now I can procrastinate from poetry through visual art (」°ロ°)」((´ ∀ ` *) 

Mixed media is boundless, lack of boundaries is a constant freedom, that’s something that I was always looking for. If you’re talking about pastel, I had a set of soft pastels when I was a child — was making pretty dummy sunsets and tried to copy ballerinas of Degas (((¬‿¬ )

And you’re very welcome! Thanks again for an interesting question. 

[volfoss]

Doll faceup below the cut aka i got a bit SILLAY w it and impulse ordered this guy w no concept of what i wanted to do and then had a silly time with the faceup

I ordered this Bobobie Apollo with not a ton of ideas other than I wanted to try my hand at the old style bjd faceups that were very dramatic and edgy because I ADORE how they look and he's an older sculpt! Along the way I decided I wanted to give him a sort of edgy style as well as a purple and teal (this eventually turned into green) color scheme.

First draft of the faceup with eyes photoshopped in (before i got the doll) vs the second draft (in which I decided I would figure piercings out later)

I then had um. Horrible terrible failures the first time I tried to do this faceup to the point where I just wiped it fully and set it aside for a few days. I wasn't used to the style nor working on white resin so it was a mess with blush and the lips. I then went in for the second try with a MUCH lighter blush and the goal to keep around the lips as clean as I could (both of those were big issues with my first attempt)

So I did what I do with faceups I prefer to be more natural, going one coat of sealant at a time (versus 3 coats) so the color shows up a lot less bright. The first coat was promising with the blush showing up how I wanted it and the brows were going pretty ok (hard to see here but i used a light grey pastel to slightly figure out how i wanted them placed)

The lips were coming along pretty perfectly by the time I hit my second coat of sealant and I was nearly ready to start on the brows (in terms of using watercolor pencils to draw the hairs)

The eyeshadow looks very scary in both versions of this faceup at first but I KNEW how I wanted it to look and it had to go through some rough patches before it got better. The brows were still VERY light by this point even with the hairs on them but it didn't worry me as I had a light purple wig that I'd bought for this doll so it would look ok if they were too light!

I added some lines to the lips using a watercolor pencil as well as some slightly darker colors to get the lips to that perfect color that reminded me of the older style goth faceups (goth used VERY loosely here). The shadows were still pretty scary but i knew that as soon as I added the black pastels on top that it would work out just fine. The brows were about as dark as I could get them, so this layer was pretty productive in terms of how much I finished.

The eyeshadow was FINALLY good and I made the lips a teensie bit darker since I hadn't put my gloss varnish on them yet (which is my very last step w lips when I do them). It was FINALLY time for acrylics which was also when a lot of the harder work came in (ie. The scar)

^ I finished the eyeliner but it's VERY hard to see from this angle and finished the scar (took pics of the whole process that I'll post separately since Tumblr photo limit 👍)

And then the finished product :)

I'm honestly VERY happy with how it turned out, it all came together really well in the end with what I was trying to do and I feel it has the early edgy bjd faceup aesthetic but also met the goals I jotted down when doing my mockup!

[dankusner]

court sketch artist dives into the details

BOOKS

Power of the pastels

From quick draws and celebrity trials, a court sketch artist dives into the details

Jane Rosenberg keeps her “go” bag by the front door.

She never knows when she’ll get the call and have to head to court — not to argue a case but to draw it.

For more than 40 years, Rosenberg has traveled the country and sat ringside for some of the most dramatic high-profile trials, including those of Bill Cosby, Bernie Madoff, Harvey Weinstein, John Gotti and Donald Trump.

In her new book, Drawn Testimony , she describes some of the costs of sitting that close to the action.

“I have drawn scenes, including a man’s execution in the electric chair, that have left me feeling guilty, washing and rewashing my hands to expunge something more than pastel dust,” she writes.

Court sketch artists are a dwindling breed.

But they remain vital because photographers aren’t allowed into many courtrooms, and artificial intelligence isn’t quite ready to take over.

It’s a stressful and often wrenching job.

“Oh no, it’s not happy,” Rosenberg said.

Rosenberg must work quickly to memorize the details of her subjects and capture them as precisely as she can using messy pastel pencils.

She wears plastic covers over some of her fingertips, which have worn down over the years, and sometimes uses binoculars.

The hectic nature of the job hasn’t kept critics at bay.

Writing in Slate, Luke Winkie called her work a combination of “majestic” and “bizarre.”

Then came the 2015 trial over a scandal known as “Deflategate,” featuring NFL quarterback Tom Brady.

Rosenberg, who is not a football fan, was one of the few living Americans who didn’t know who Brady was.

When she saw him in the courtroom, she writes, “I couldn’t quite work out what defined him, what made that face Tom Brady … he was all chiseled and cropped, smooth and almost disconcertingly featureless.”

The drawing she produced had a certain Herman Munster-like quality, and the internet went mad.

Rosenberg had her 15 minutes of infamy, appearing on television and radio shows to explain her creation.

In between Brady’s first and second appearance in court, Rosenberg studied his visage like a quarterback watching film.

“For that two weeks, I lived and breathed Tom Brady, sitting in my studio as sketch after sketch of him piled up around me,” she writes.

Although she was not completely satisfied with it, her second sketch was good enough to get a simple thank you from the seven-time Super Bowl champion.

Despite the pressure, Rosenberg says: “I love what I do. I love drawing. I love being paid for drawing, and I love having a front-row seat at the most exciting trials.”

During our exchange, she explained her technique, her brushes with fame and how she continues to do what she does.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

How did you become a court sketch artist?

After college, I did portraits for tourists in Cape Cod.

But I got tired of that and I came back to New York and went to a lecture of the courtroom artist Marilyn Church, and I thought, wow, I’d really like to do that.

I had some lawyer friends who took me to night court, and I put together a portfolio.

One day the court officers let me sit in the jury box with two other artists [during an arraignment].

I did my sketch and I went home and I thought, I’ve got to try to sell this.

The case was Craig Crimmins, who was later convicted of murdering a violinist on the roof of the Metropolitan Opera House. I sold it to NBC.

After that I kept getting calls. Next was the trial of Mark David Chapman, who was convicted of killing John Lennon.

Tell me about a typical day in the courtroom, if there is such a thing.

I will get a call from a news service and run downtown with my kit and a change of clothes — I tend to wear a lot of dark-colored clothes because I make a mess and I don’t wear an apron.

Hopefully I’ll be the first one there and choose the best seat and set up all my art supplies.

I have to finish the sketch right then and there.

I have to memorize my subject right then and there.

I never bring the art home.

When I’m done, it goes right on the news.

What’s the fastest you’ve ever had to complete a drawing?

If it’s an arraignment, like the Boston Marathon bombing suspect, very fast.

Six or seven minutes.

But sometimes arraignments last a long time.

Like the Trump arraignment for the hush money trial.

There were a lot of arguments before they actually arraigned him.

Then the prosecutor read the 34 counts out loud, and that took some more time.

When I sat down, I started drawing all the court officers, the security — I’ve never seen that much in the courtroom. They were lined up in every row.

And then Trump walked in, and I drew him. I did one sketch. I didn’t finish it, and then suddenly he spoke into a microphone and said, “Not guilty.”

So I took out a sheet of paper, because now I thought, I have to draw him speaking into the microphone.

But as soon as I had this blank sheet up, I looked at him and now he was turning and facing the prosecutor, kind of glaring at him, and I got to see him from a front view. So I decided, I have to get this face.

How often do people on the stand acknowledge you?

Occasionally. It depends where I’m sitting. Though when I was on Trump’s civil fraud trial, which was in a state court, they put all the artists right up against the rail.

Whenever anybody entered the courtroom, including ex-president Trump and Don Jr. — whoever walked in, they walked in right behind us and could see what we were doing. Donald Trump started to acknowledge me, because he had seen me in D.C., he’d seen me in Florida, and so now I’m a familiar face. So he started to say, “Hello, how are you?” Sometimes he just mouthed a greeting, or I would get a nod.

But one day it was Don Jr.’s turn to testify, and he didn’t say anything to me at first. But during a break, he walks by me and says, “Look what they did to Sam Bankman-Fried, they made him look like a superstar,” and showed me a drawing on his phone from that trial, insinuating I should do the same for him.

I said: “That’s fake. That’s not even what he looks like.”

It was an artificial-intelligence sketch. And another time he walked by and said, “Make me look sexy.”

You have witnessed some emotionally harrowing moments. I’m thinking, for instance, of Susan Smith, who drowned her children in 1994, and the victims of the Boston Marathon bombing, Derek Chauvin’s trial. How do you cope with the weight of all this?

I’ve witnessed some horrible, horrible things, but I have to stay neutral, to the best of my ability. During the trial of Susan Smith, my child was the same age as her children. I remember listening to the testimony of how she strapped them in the car seat and let them roll into the lake. I was heartbroken. And then had to listen to what happens to a body when somebody drowns. I was horrified. I was actually crying. I had to be careful that the tears didn’t land on my pastels because they would have ruined them.

How do you find the strength to go out and do it again? What do you do to unwind?

I meditate every day, twice a day. And I have been doing that every single day since 1973. I’d say I’m addicted to the meditation at this point, because if I don’t, all I can think about is: I need to meditate. So, that centers me and gets me going and ready for the day in court.

[chena-h]

Man, it's been raining so much lately. On the one hand it's nice but oof, I do not like driving in rainy weather. Way too stressful.

So, I've been in a reflective mood lately. Sure it comes with the time of year. Creatively speaking, I feel like 2022 was pretty good for me. Im feeling more confident about things I create or ideas I get than I have in the past. I'm kinda happy about that.

Definitely focused more on writing than drawing. While I didn't publish much, I did feel great about the things I did managed to complete. Started taking more notes and being ok with wips. I feel like that's helped a lot. Head feels a little less cluttered and I'm relieved to know that I have a place where I can revisit my ideas when the time is right.

Didn't sketch or draw as much as I wanted to. It's hard because I have so many pencils and pens now (my brother even got me a set of pastels I'm excited about using). I'm not one for resolutions but I'd like to make some time to practice drawing more things. More practice in colored pencil for sure and trying to get through all my pens. At some point, I would like to venture into painting with inkwashes. Watercolors seem super intimidating to me. I've only painted with acrylics a few times and I don't really have the space for it. Maybe someday.

But yeah, this year, I want to try and work on my sense of organization when it comes to my creative projects. Art wise, I tend to be scatter brained ;w; I don't know what that will look like yet, but basically I want to balance time for writing and art projects.

Art wise, I still have that thing I was mentioning last year that I want to finish. I'm about a little over a quarter of the way there, I think? Just need to practice sketching some pieces out more before I draw the final versions. After that, I have a similar project I kind of want to do as well as a short series of portraits feat. one of my blorbos. At first, I wanted it to just be one drawing but I like all the ideas too much to choose just one orz. I also am undecided on which medium(s) to use. I'll see.

Writing wise...lol, I have so many wips now! Which is good. I do feel like I'll return to the Akira manga au series at some point. I've got more scenes from that AU (and I figured out how to end it)! There's also some one shots and a shorter series I hope to finish, but I'm very particular about the order in which I publish fics so idk when that'll be. Right now, though, the bnha fics are what I'm drawn to the most so I'll likely be focusing on those. Want to finish the first part of the series I posted, continue with the Villain AU, and maybe (maybe?) get the first chapter of the other series posted??? Gonna shoot for February for that one, but no guarantees there. There's also that highly ambitious AU fic that I want to write and publish this year, but there's still kinks for me to iron out with that one.

I think this is the longest time I've focused on fanart more than anything original, which is new for me. There are some projects related to my OCs that I have kicking around. Maybe I'll get to those later in the year. I've been debating whether to post original fics to AO3. I went on a deep dive the other night looking for fics tagged as QPR because I was curious and found way more original works than I expected. I know AO3 isn't technically for that, but I generally prefer to have one dedicated place to share stuff. I do have a RoyalRoad account though, so maybe I could use that instead.

Trying to stay positive about this year.

[evenasyoungastheyare]

[losingherface]

I have the moon

Warnings: Quick ish Smut, 18+

Info : It’s Ellie and readers first night at their new house, that used to be Joel’s.

A/n: srry if it’s terrible, i’ve been busy and just not in the mood to write if i’m being honest but yeahhh also I would love to have requests that obviously fit within the story line because I’m getting a bit dry :))

•

The boxes were full and ready to go. It took about a month to pack up and completely move into Joel’s farmhouse.

It was strange seeing your apartment empty. You had lived here on your own for so many years before Ellie came along. The furniture had changed over the years, and pretty much everything did due to Ellie moving in, having dogs, they suddenly die, having cats, and they suddenly died as well. But this time, it was finally empty, it looked like it did when you had first bought it. It looked like you kept it the same all these years.

You handed the key to your landlord, Britt, she was always fun and kept you company before Ellie, when you were depressed about your job, or anything really. It was hard seeing you go and you felt the same of course. She held you in the tightest hug and it felt like a stab in your heart. But you wanted this, so you weren’t really worried about how you’d feel in a few days.

Ellie waited for you in the car. When you got inside, you immediately noticed the constant smile on her face, she would try hiding it but you could tell, and god that made you feel so good.

It was a long month. From the wedding, to Joel dying, and now this, moving five hours from the city into a rural town where you two would be basically separated from everything, it was a lot. Now you were ready to get to your new home and nap it all off.

•

Jesse, Dina, Tommy, and Maria had all helped move us in throughout the week, and make things comfortable for us. Dina couldn’t get over the countryside and Jesse was irritated by her constantly whining to move closer to us as their baby, JJ, spilled his juice everywhere and made a mess. You were ready for them to leave. Reaching over to pull JJ away, from potentially making another huge mess, Dina calls you to the kitchen.

You were close to losing your temper but instead just ignored it, maybe Ellie will do something.

“Yea?”

“I love these counters, I have a friend if you guys ever need a renovator.” Dina told you as she took out something from the oven, your attention immediately going there.

“Yea I know, What’s that in the oven?”

“My special banana bread, so you can think of me when we leave.”

It was literally all you wanted right now.

“Thanks Dina. I’m going to miss you. And that baby of yours.”

•

As for Ellie, she had been fine, for the most part. She hadn’t completely opened up about how she was feeling but you knew it was passing by. Passing by as in, she was accepting that she’ll never talk to Joel again, not that she’s getting over it and forgetting about him- she’ll never forget him, it was her dad. There was a glow that sat beautifully on her face and it was the same glow she had when you two got married, when you two would be in each other’s presence. It seemed that was her way of telling you but not telling you either that she was content and you loved it.

Your head peaked out of the kitchen once again to look at Ellie, JJ and Jesse in the living room. Ellie had been playing with JJ and you couldn’t help but lose your train of thought. It was so cute when she did that.

•

Dina, Jesse, and JJ were finally leaving. You were going to miss your best friend as she wasn’t just down the street anymore, she was five hours away. Her baby was getting older, and soon it was time she would have to start paying full attention to him so the chances of regular communication were getting lower.

You couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken.

•

After everyone left, you devoured the banana bread with a large cup of milk, leaning over the counter, nitpicking everything in your head about this house.

You remembered Ellie had been setting up her art room, it was a nice size and way better than the balcony at the apartment. You cleaned yourself up and walked to the room.

The door was slightly open and the room had been quiet, only Ellie’s humming being heard.

You knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Ellie said softly and you walked in. Shutting the door behind you, trying to not disturb the peacefulness.

“It’s late, do you want to come to bed?” You asked as you watched her draw yet another portrait of Joel.

She yawned and put down her pencil. She didn’t answer your question and instead walked over to you and hugged your waist while kissing down your soft neck. She pulled away, “Let’s go.” She stretched her long arm out for you as she opened the door, leading you to your new bedroom.

The bedroom was large, with a walk in closet, a bathroom and a beautiful large window that wasn’t covered with curtains for the purpose of the countryside view.

The room was obviously empty only with a bed that had pastel yellow sheets Maria had bought. You sat down on the bed as Ellie followed. She sat and watched you take off your pants leaving you only in your underwear and a slightly large shirt, Ellie had done the same only her top half was completely bare.

•

It was the middle of the night in the new house, the first night you two had slept there. It had a creepy feel to it. It was quiet and dark, the only light coming from the large window you had been facing. From the window where you had been lying down, you got a nice view of the farm and the night sky, and also an occasional few cars that would pass by.

It was so hot that you had been fighting with the blankets all night, whether they should be on or off. Looking over at Ellie, she had seemed to be sleeping like a baby. You continue to look at the window while laying down, eyes wandering all over the place. The time was 2:00 a.m. It was going to be a long night.

Sweat begins forming on your back, causing you to pull your shirt off, now only in your undergarments.

“I’m going to go look for a fan. I think he had one in the attic.” Ellie just randomly blurs out causing you to look at her, startled.

“Please, baby it’s so hot.” You say as you lean over to the small chair beside the bed and grab the water bottle, desperately chugging it again. As you did that, Ellie leaves to look for a fan.

•

What had felt like forever, Ellie finally arrives with a fan. It was a decent size and was perfect. As Ellie plugs it in, you unclip your bra and let all of the cool air hit you before lying back in the bed, covering yourself with the blanket.

You hear Ellie rumbling into bed, a lot closer than before, wrapping her arm around your body, pulling you closer. It felt so nice to have her this close, as she really hadn’t been willing to for a few months. Also with the heat, you’d just hate being that close.

Ellie takes her warm and soft lips, and presses it on your neck. Kissing you up and down, you closed your eyes hoping she wasn’t just giving you a goodnights kiss but wanted more.

You pull your blanket down from your face to show her your exposed breasts, ready to be caressed and sucked on (lmfao idk how else to say it).

She looks at you with a slight smile before kissing your temple. “Please..” You whisper, grabbing her head with both of your hands, she knew exactly what you wanted. You adjusted your position, lying on your back, waiting for Ellie to slip under the sheet.

Ellie and you hadn’t been together like this in a while, considering everything she’s been through and the missed honeymoon. You can see it on Ellie’s face, she felt so good at this moment. Her face was lit up and the light coming from the night sky reflected on her face.

Ellie kissing down your neck, you move your hand over to caress her soft, slightly greasy hair. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you whisper, “I love you.” She breaks the kiss, whispering the same back to you before continuing to kiss, getting lower with each one.

At this point, you both knew exactly where this was going, it was one of Ellie’s favorite ways to make you smile. You spread your legs a bit further, allowing Ellie to have some space. You desperately throw the blanket off of the both of you to be able to see her. Her strong hands hold down both of your legs, her eyes lock with yours as she begins licking you right where you wanted her to. Your eyes begin to look drowsy as Ellie begins to pick up the pace. As you moan loudly, you notice Ellie smiling at you making your sounds every once and a while. Seeing her do that made you want more, you loved seeing her that way. You throw your head back into the fluffy, white pillow, grabbing onto anything that was in your region as Ellie relentlessly pleased you with her wet, warm tongue.

you were a mess and by the time you were able to let it all out over Ellie’s sweaty face, you were covered in your own sweat, sitting up on elbows, looking at Ellie get up and move towards you.

Ellie grabbed the blanket nearby and covered you and herself up. You immediately wrap your body around hers, pressing light kisses to her face.

“I forgot how much I love doing that.” Ellie says as you slowly begin to open your eyes.

You propped your head up on your elbow, leaning into Ellie more, caressing your hard, short nails up and down her back. “It looked like you really needed that.”

“Yeah, I think us moving into this house, and getting to do that, makes me feel better.” Ellie struggled to say but it was genuine and you knew she’d be back on her feet again in about another week.

You didn’t know what to say, Ellie’s smile forming on her face effortlessly put you in awe and it left you there once again, staring at her because sometimes that’s all you could do. She appreciated it either way.

.

A/N: I suck at comforting ppl irl and it rlly shows in these stories, and this took me long cuz I can’t bring myself to write smut correctly so i was a little insecure but whatevererrr

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Would you do a Jean x Reader x Reiner one? The reader felt so betrayed by Reiner being a titan shifter and when he left she felt so confused whether she can loves him or not after finding out the truth. Jean comfort her and they eventually fall in love. Or you can do a modern au one where Reiner cheated on the reader and Jean begin to see his chance with the reader then they both had a relationship. But she still can't forget Reiner. I truly love your writing! Have a good day ! ♥

i was wondering if you could do a modern au jean x reader. where the reader is very stressed for a test of some kind, and jean and the reader end up skipping the test and spend the whole day together instead, where towards the end of the day jean confesses his feelings for the reader. a lot of fluff please if you could i am obsessed sorry by @cj-sparkss

A/N: So i decided to merge those two requests because they fit really good together in my head! I hope ou guys like this! I strongly recommend listening to any song in Halsey's album, Manic while reading.

Pairing: Jean/ Reader, some past Reiner/ reader if you squint

Tags: college!au, art school au, fluff all the way

Warnings: Jean being way too cute for his own sake, seriously

Sketches Of You

Your head was burning.

Your eyes were stinging; tiny little little blood vessels were popping here and there, throbbing profoundly as they merged together, rushing their way to your irises. You didn't know for how long you had been awake, mostly because a few days had passed and you didn't remember falling asleep or waking up on your once comfortable desk chair.

Before you laid numerous books open in different pages, most of the writting they held emphasized by your favorite pastel highlighter. What felt like your lamp buzzed, burning a canary yellow light over the mahogany material of your desk, warming up the spot where your hand used to lay. A pen in your hand was all you could bring yourself to hold with your numb, frozen fingers, the plastic edges of its tube sunk into your skin, carving bumps to mark their spot in your hand.

Wait, oh no, you thought as you looked around this wasn't your dorm, this was the university's library.

The library around you was extremely quiet as you laid face down on one book, your mouth slightly part and your lips dry save for the little ribbon of drool that moistened a line down your right cheek. Only for one more minute, you told yourself, deciding to shut your eyes together just to allow them sometime to rest, ignoring how such request was what had caused you to drift off to such extend in the first place. Stinging tears escaped the corners of your eyelids, signifying how tired and dry your irises had grown to be. Letting out a huge sigh you tried to lift your head, at least this could be an attempt to get your life together for the day.

Your scattered books came to close quietly under your palms, the numerous pieces of papers and notes being tucked messily in between pages, your own fatigue causing you to break your own rules when it came to being as neat as you could with your notes. Another sigh left you as you sank into the back the plastic chair, your books firmly standing on top of eachother and into your palms.

This test was going to end you. You knew it. Despite having tried to memorise all the information that was required for you to even try to get a five -seriously, a five would be absolutely godsent if you could at least get that grade- all you were left with was your brain feeling mushy and muddy without any actual knowledge of the subject you had been studying for. Why on earth was gothic architecture an essential class in your first year in art school was beyond you. Was this university never supposed to let you graduate on top of trying to prevent you getting in for numerous years?

Resisting the urge to scream or pull your hair off your head you decided that it was time to get up, your knees straightening slightly at the your brain's command, only to be sent back into the blue plastic of your chair, your whole body growling in fatigue. Your chest heavied as you let out a whine, bringing your hands to your eyes to scrub away the stinging ache you were feeling.

"You good?"

Your head turned to the direction of the voice maniacally, your eyes shooting wide as you practically ripped your hands off of your face. Looking up, your (e/c) orbs met with hazel ones, little specs of yellow and green stared back at you through thick eyelashes, adorned with a complex of worry plastered on dark chestnut eyebrows.

"Yeah Jean, I'm just studying."

"Oh it's Mr Ackerman's test right?"

"Hm" you hummed in response, another whine coming out of your lips.

"Yeah I remember how that class went for me. He's pretty nice if you get to know him though. I have to submit a few sketches for tomorrow, can I sit with you or were you leaving?"

"No, I'll keep you company, I need a break from whatever.." your eyes wandered at the books in your hands and the numerous note sheets peaking out from anywhere you could lay your gaze on "..this is."

Extending a hand Jean reached out for the head of the chair right next to you, pulling it back in order to let himself sink into the dark blue plastic seat, similarly to you. His lips pushed into a thin line as he looked at you, his cheek puffing up in the action. A hand came to your shoulder comfortingly as another one pulled out his sketchbook from his run down and way too littered with dry paint tote bag.

"Are those for Moblit's workshop?"

"Mhm." Jean confirmed. "You got any 0.8 tipped inks?"

"Yeah, I do."

Setting the leather covered sketchbook on the mahogany table Jean turned his head to you again, pointing his eyes onto the black pencil case in front of you. In response you shrugged your shoulders, your palms shooting up to your eyes once again. Jean's hand grabbed on your case, his long fingers digging through the numerous inking pens and markers that overlapped each other.

"I can't believe you have the Sakura Pens when you know I don't like them." Jean whined, hands roaming through your belongings still.

"Jean," you said, a deep chuckle escaping you in the process "I happen to like them, you know."

"They're yikes."

"You just can't use them correctly."

"How do you use an inking pen correctly. Enlighten me." Jean mocked, his fingers throwing signs in the air to accentuate his words.

Resting his head on his fist Jean opened his sketchbook, swiping through numerous ivory cold pressed pages, filled with inked sketches. Your eye twitched as you tried to keep up with many of the drawings you could spot; you had seen the contents of this sketchbook a thousand times, admiring Jean's skill with ink. His professor, Mister Moblit had one of the most interesting workshops for students who specialised in inks, and you aspired to take his classes in your following year in art school, supposing you could pass your classes this very semester.

"What are you supposed to be drawing?"

"Anything, mostly things that make us feel like they are important to draw." Jean said.

"Oh and library is important?"

"Sasha said you'll be here, so yup. And I want to draw my hands actually "

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head in borderline disbelief. Honestly, if you weren't that bummed about your test and your recent break up you could have laughed at Jean's sly arrogance. Your eyes traveled to Jean, examining his quiet form as he studied his palms. Inevitably your eyes studied them as well.

His fingers were long and tan and harsh to look at, scrapped in most places with tints of Indian ink. They stuggled to manage with your pencil case, his pinkies and thumbs couldn't even begin to fit in the little object and it made you wonder how he even managed to work his inking pens correctly with such enormous hands. Some veins popped from here and there, accentuating his bulky joints perfectly; they run from the back of his palms to his wrist, mingling with more of their blue kind in his calfs and biceps. The occasional blotches of dried paint were decorating them. Even some paint covered hairs spiked as the light contracted his form.

You smiled miscellaneously.

Your own finger traveled without remorse towards them, poking at a few hairs that were littered with paint. By pinching one, Jean shot back in half pain, his brows furrowing in confusion as he stared at you. "Hey, what they fuck!"

"You do that to me all the time when i have paint in my hands!" You half laughed, shooting him a mocking furrowed look as well.

“You’re so cruel!” Jean grinned.

“To pay you back with your own penny right?”

Jean cocked his eyebrow at you, a few lines begging to make an appearance on his forehead. He shook his head a couple of times, throwing a few shaggy strands of hair away from his face, his forehead immediately lighting up as his ashy blond locks overlapped just above his ears. You mimicked him, using a hand to move your feathery bangs away from your face as to not have them intertwining with your vision.

Jean brought a digit to his mouth, biting at the bulky knuckle while wrapping his lips around it to suck at the sore spot, dramatically mourning the loss of one single hair. It made you laugh harder than it should have and you told him off, quickly grabbing his hand by the wrist to pull it further away from his mouth.

"Ew you idiot are your hands even washed!? Don't put them in your mouth!"

Jean's smile faded gradually as he nodded its only reminder remaining in his eyes as they softened with each passing second they looked at you. You bobbed your head to the side, taking in the way he was looking at you and you felt your gut grunting in the anxiety you had managed to drown at one time.

You definitely knew that look.

"So how are you after... The whole Reiner thing?"

When Jean let the sentence out, he instantly regretted it. Biting back the inside of his lip, his teeth dug into his soft, fleshy gum, the tiny specks of spiky under lip hair he had poking through his chin. You could see the regret plastered on his face, yet you ignored it with a sigh, pushing your stern further back into the chair again.

Of course Jean would ask about that. Reiner and you had broken up a little less that a month ago and it was stressful enough to send your anxiety over the roof. Coming home to find him drapped in the sheets with someone else was still burning through your brain like a hot iron, marking the fleshy crevices by piercing your skull.

Jean and you hadn't had a chance to talk about your break up yet; in the midst of it being a spontaneous reaction to Reiner's anathema and your upcoming mid-terms, you had chosen to indulge yourself fully with the everlasting pleasure of delving into studying.

And now, as you tried to utter your awaited words your stomach clenched at the foreshaken memory that you had tried to bury in the depths of your soul, your hands sweating just a tiny bit as you gulped down on some saliva to dumpen your dry throat. Jean's hazel orbs were set on you with curiosity and reluctance, his skin tingling inside his crewneck sweater.

"I mean, Eren told us about it and then we fought on who would punch Reiner first you know."

You oggled at him as he spoke awkwardly, your lashes batting rapidly as a wave of confusion washed through you.

"You don't have to hit Reiner you know, we all make our choices and he made his."

"Ah," Jean sighed heavily "I suppose so. I'm here for you though, you can talk to me."

"You're actually doing an assignment at the moment" you said and pointed your finger onto his sharp nose, giving him a playful push to the side. "No need to talk about my sorry love life."

"Your love life isn't pitiful, don't talk about it like that!"

"It's not pitiful, just sad." You sighed, reaching out to your pencil case. "Just sad."

Your fingers run through the case even though your eyes weren't fixated on the action, your sense of touch working its way to let you know which object you were seeking. The tips of your fingers caught on the thick Posca marker quickly and you locked it in a grasp between your pointer and middle finger, bringing it up through the zip up opening.

"Give me your hand." You ordered at Jean as you clapped your fingers to your palm in a 'come here' motion.

"It could always get better you know." Jean spoke and threw his hand to you.

Slowly the cap was off the market with a snap and you slid it up towards it's butt to pop it on there as to not lose it in any case it feel off of the desk and onto the mosaic floor.

Jean's nose lit up in a faint scarlet and his ears followed right next, lighting up in a deeper shade of the color on his nose which made his hand snap away from you in a matter of seconds. With puckered lips he stared at the corner of the room that was in the opposite direction of yours, his gut drenching him in short tempered anxiety.

"You done painting my nails with the posca pen?" Jean remarked, lips still puckered as he turned to face you. "When's your exam?"

"Three o'clock."

"Wanna ditch?"

Your eyes goggled in his for a second. The luminous morning light that peaked through the library binds fell onto him dearly, caressing a few of his features in a lemony colored mellow way, your gaze traveled into anywhere on his face as you tried to examine his expression while your gut was beginning to churn at the sly thought of agreeing with his query.

Weighting your options wasn't a seriously hard thing to do; if you took the test you were most likely going to fail, but if you didn't take it you'd have to live with the guilt of not even putting the minimal effort in it for a few weeks. But, you had tried so hard to pass all of your other classes so why shouldn't you slack off for one that was bound to end in a fiasco?

You found yourself nodding to Jean before you could actually give more thought to it. His face immediately lit up, ashy blond locks flying over his eyes as he shook his head in excitement. With one move his sketchbook was closed again, left to mourn over the non existent scribbles Jean could have made during all this time he was sitting next to you.

The hard cover protected sketching pages were thrown into to his tote bag once again, the sound of the sketchbook colliding and clashing with a few more objects he had in the bag filling the silent air of the library.

"Put your books in here!" He offered, opening the sides of the tote bag right on front of your face, signaling you to do as he suggested.

By taking a long sigh you took a turn in throwing your books and pencil case in the bag, one object following another on the pursuit of finding their own place in Jean's crammed bag. A shy smile adorned your features as you looked at him, the mischievous little devil on your shoulder smiling proudly at your actions as if you were a high schooler skipping school.

_____

Black Cat was a notorious cafe among art university students for numerous reasons. For example, it featured a decent amount of of beautiful contemporary art that was meticulously merged with the soft, cobblestone-cottagecore-home-during-the-winter aesthetic and all of their tables, stools and booths were artist-friendly to the max. Additionally it played Nirvana and Metallica for most of the day and on top of that they actually had a chunky and extremely cuddly black cat roaming around the store that you often found on your lap during your time there.

Oh, and the batwoman made amazing custom cocktails.

Really was there anything else anyone needed in a store?

The soft tangerine light flickered open as the sun outside started to hide it's shy low lights under the peak of a mountain you couldn't recall the name of, the soft smell of apple pie filling your nostrils as you sipped lightly from your earl gray tea occasionally, stealing a few glances of Jean's focused expression. A knowingly half smile went up to your face as you looked at the scenery outside before fixing your eyes back onto the bright screen of your phone.

Jean cooed in his leathery chair for the upteenth time today, his gaze fixated on the sketchbook on his hands. You had spend last hour in absolute silence; you had decided to roam around in your phone for references for an assigned collage you had to do in Photoshop as Jean had settled on drawing the horizon from outside the window to practice on his perspective while finishing up the sketches he had to submit.

Your day had passed by pretty fast; you had visited an urban side of the town that was flooded with art supply stores and you had delved into every single one roaming around to find any kind of supplies you were short on, or just generally needed. As Jean correctly had said, you are always short on art supplies.

Thus, you had ended up with a bag filled with complementary acrylic colors in tubes of 20ml mostly because they costed a dollar each, and also because as art students you got to receive twenty percent off of all your supply bills. Jean had only bought a new set of watercolors and a few Edding inks and 0.7 tipped poscas, as he was sure he would ruin your expensive Sakura Liners in his attempts to finish his project.

Then you had decided to cram your place for some much needed lunch before heading off to Black Cat to have some tea and coffee while Jean would finish off his last few of the sketches he had been drawing throughout the day.

"So" Jean awkwardly spoke as in to break the deep silence, his thumb pressing over the edge of the page his drawing was placed as he closed the sketchbook carefully "I wanted to ask, because ahem, I'm your friend and I'm worried about you... Do you want to vent about Reiner?"

"Ah, no" you shook your head and fixed your gaze onto the auburn colored liquor in your cup as you reluctantly lift it up to bring it to your lips before speaking "I mean, I got so sad you know. And I haven't gotten over it, of course, I mean I liked Reiner. A lot."

"I came see it in your eyes. But I'm here for-"

"And he's a bitch you know? He could have told me if he was bothered by anything I did or if it wasn't going well for him. I'd gladly work anything out or even break up peacefully."

"You know," Jean sighed, he too bringing his cup of coffee to his lips to take a sip before gulping it down. "My opinion is obviously biased here, but I support you. I've took a psychology class and we were actually delving into as to why some people cheat, there are many reasons as to why it could have happened."

Your heart slightly aches as you looked at him, a few veins in your hand twitching slightly as he continued rambling about all things he had grasped from his class. Your stomach growled angrily in anxiety, warning you to put an halt to your friend's words but you couldn't bring yourself to do so.

Not knowing the reason as to why Reiner had chosen to see someone else behind your back had hurt you beyond repair. Deep inside you still felt the need to get some closure, although with your stress on your exams you had been sure you would most likely give in to anything Reiner would say and this wasn't who you were.

You could go on without having any closure, it shouldn't have mattered so much to you in any way.

And to some extent it didn't.

"I'm hurt, but I'm the other hand I don't really care about anything you know?"

"Mhm, yeah, look at you getting over it so quickly!" Jean said semi enthusiastically. "You need to be able to share your pain in order for it to become small and eventually non-existent."

"You know, for someone who takes such sophisticated classes you talk like you haven't slept in ages!"

"Give me a break, as if you don't."

The two of you burst into bubbling laughter, your chests heaving and falling as the sounds of joy left you one by one. Jean's hand had come to rest on top of yours softly, giving you a couple of squeezes as his eyes squinted in synch with yours.

And then, in a moment that seemed like it was forced out of a coffee shop au fanfiction, Jean's hand rubbed a few soothing circles over yours. Slowly his laughter was begging to set into a silent harmony, the woody brown specs of his eyes providing the slightest tint of warmth into his gaze.

"This is why I love you so much."

The choice of words was supposed to be naive whether it was intentional or not, or that's what you tried to tell yourself because you thought you knew Jean better than anyone. The look in his eyes, the soft upwards curves of his eyebrows, the way his top lip overlapped go bottom one as his eyes glimmered into yours; this wasn't a very casual look for Jean, it was the look he had on when he was looking at something that mesmerised him. And you knew he meant exactly what he had said.

But did you like Jean?

Well, was there anyone who could spend so much time with Jean and not fall for him, even without realising it?

At one time it had become obvious that he liked you, although he'd never act upon it. You knew it in his movements, in the little ways he looked at you or cared for you like no one else actually did while hiding behind the mask of being a friend. Eren had been one to tease him for it restlessly and you had been able to catch upon that too but you had never let it be known that you had been able to see through his facade.

"Forget it I shouldn't even have had-"

With curious eyes you stared back, your gaze never truly leaving him. When he suddenly shook his hand off of yours you found your other hand pressing on top of his, trapping the limb in place as you tried to open your mouth to utter any word. It was still hard to find the right choice of words, ones that wouldn't hurt to be heard.

"Jean... I-"

"No, forget it, it just slipped, shit."

"Look Jean shut up for a second please I want to speak okay?" You huffed half playfully, despairate to stop Jean's mumbling "I know."

"You know?" Jean cursed under his breath.

"Yeah, I do, it's obvious. And I've had this huge crush on you ever since fifth grade you know? I never really got over you because I spent all of my teen years thinking we'd end up together."

You watched as Jean's face lit up at your words, a new glimmer adorning his eyes just as the sky turned a sheer violet as the sun retreated deeper into a non visible horizon.

"And then we kissed in eighth grade and we fought about it and we stopped hanging out because I asked for space since I just could believe what was happening. But we're friends again and it's the best thing to happen to me in years."

You continued, your hand never leaving his while soothing circles were rubbed onto his palm.

"But I'm not going to ask you for space this time."

"You're not?"

"No. Just a little patience. I'm still getting over Reiner and I don't want to be unfair to you and rip you off of something that you might ask from me."

Jean snapped his hand away from yours and you retreated your hands back to yourself shyly, a bitter mouth leaking into your mouth as you tried to swallow it down fast to no avail. Somehow your heart felt a strong stinging, the pulling of your heartstrings at steak while your heart was sprawled before you.

Was that your last chance with Jean? You had told yourself that time and space between you would be right one day, but that day seemed to stray further away now, slipping right off your hands because you couldn't forget Reiner fast enough.

"I'm not fourteen anymore, so don't be afraid about me straying away. I just wanted to show you something."

Jean's worked through the pages of his sketchbook, taking a few seconds before they landed where they wanted to. Flipping the sketchbook to match your point of view, he revealed the sketches he had been scribbling all day. They depicted you in majority. The look on your face as you picked a tube of paint, your hands as they grabbed through numerous brushes and sketchbooks. Even the way you stared at your phone as you sat across him was perfectly sketched on the paper and hatched in indian ink, adorned by Jean's raw drawing style.

"Jean, that's me!"

"Mister Moblit told us to draw things that were personally important to us. So, I hope you don't mind."

Damn, you felt like tearing up.

In the midst of trying to get your stupid heart to calm down from the impossible rhythm in which it was beating at and stating at Jean's sketches so hard that your eyes felt like they'd pop out and any given moment your would felt like setting fire to your whole being while your tears were restlessly trying to put it out. It was even outdated to feel like that about Jean, your younger self told you but there was no way you could help it.

With rivers of tears running from the corners of your eyes you looked up at the hazel orbs that were set on you, feeling your heart want up by their luminous gaze.

"Jean I-"

"Shush, you don't have to say anything. Just let me know if I can hug you."

"I'd love that." You said shyly under your breath.

Next thing you knew Jean had gotten up from his seat and had plopped himself right next to you, pushing your head deep in his chest. The song in the background faded gradually as you felt serenity wash through you, despite your heart hammering in your chest beyond a point you could actually feel it.

And for now all that mattered was that you could listen to Jean's heart beat nearly as fast as yours while his words played inside your head.

Maybe, just maybe time and space between the two of you was right this time.

taglist: @sasageyowrites @levisbrat25 @ackermans-freedom-inc @melancholicmonologue @berrijam @callmepromise @nobody-knows-anymore 

[matthewbeilschmidts]

It’s been a long while since I’ve posted but I’m so glad that I am :’)

This is for Day 1: of @prucanweek - Ordinary

Apologies for spelling errors, it’s a little short but I hope you enjoy 😭💞

-

Matthew doesn’t mind that he’s living an ordinary life. Really.

He grows up near the coast, two parents, a fraternal twin brother, and their gangly hairless cat, Tony (picked curtesy of Alfred). Their parents take them everywhere they can during their childhood, the beach, museums, sports game. They focus on their interests, figuring out what the two like and dislike, as they encourage them both to be themselves and do what they love no matter what. Alfred debates between whether he likes wrestling or football more, while Matthew settles into hockey. In between family get togethers, community festivals, and endless sports training, they somehow have time for homework. (The two share answers a lot.)

He and Alfred each have their own rooms when they enter their teen years, a space to decorate and fill with their own mementos and awards. The sports continue, but later their parents find themselves a little bit busier than before. They do though, give them as much time as they can during the school year, never wanting them to go without someone by their side.

Matthew fades into the background a little bit as they get older, while Alfred puts himself front and center. Matthew watches once with a hand over his eyes as Alfred auditions for the school musical, and surprisingly he read and sings the lines well. “It’s always the rowdy ones!” their theater teachers says after he’s finished performing, a mix of anticipation from planning on putting Alfred on stage and dread at the thought of having to manage him.

Matthew silently supports him, after all he has his own things to do.

He’s the co-caption of the hockey team, the coach giving him the position to give him a little more of a voice, and his teammates verbally agree, considering on the ice Matthew has a lot more to show than he does in person. He accepts, albeit hesitantly.

By the time graduation comes by, Matthew can barely believe how the time has passed. His team even wins a championship under his watch. Some of his fellow classmates look so ready to go out and experience the world, and it’s scary to him because weren’t they all going at the same pace?

His parents talk him through picking his college of choice, and he decides to go. He needs to do what everyone does and experience the world.

And if he decides he wants to come home, that’s okay because at least he tries.

-

He’s in his first art class during his third year at university. The time has been going well, he’s got pretty decent grades and has managed to join a few clubs. But he’s not done yet. Extra curriculars, can’t finish without them. He prioritizes his general education first, and even slips himself into a few major classes early on, but humanities is on record now and has to be completed no matter what one’s studying.

He can get through one semester, he hopes.

Next to him, a student is snickering and the professor doesn’t look amused.

“Gilbert.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“If you’re done, I can introduce myself now.”

The professor goes in with complete, in-depth introductory slides with her name and credentials, and a briefing of all they will overcome this semester.

He’s never been an artist, at least not one that picks up a pencil and creates a realistic masterpiece with nothing but that and a pad of paper. Maybe some poetry contests in high school, if that counts. The written word has its own impact, its own set of colors to breathe out for the world to see.

There’s another snicker, interrupting his internal monologue.

He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know the student, and it’s not his place to control others. But, if it starts to hinder the class, maybe he’ll tell him something. He’s paying to be there, too.

The man catches him staring.

“Yes?” he asks Matthew without being spoken to in the first place.

“Oh,” Matthew flushes at being caught, not that he was trying to hide it anyway. “Well, she didn’t say anything funny?”

The guys waves a hand, making a “psssh” noise as he does.

“I’m just laughing because of how formal this all is. She won’t be this dignified later in the semester that’s for sure. She’ll be ripping her hair out.”

Matthew glances back, he doesn’t want to say anyone looks mean but, he would believe it if she was.

“You look scared,” the guy laughs, which is rude because isn’t he the one that just put the thought in Matthew’s mind? “She’s not too mean just a sticker to the rules. Will get real pissy if something doesn’t go right.”

“And you still set her off knowing that?”

The man laughs again, but this time around he’s actually trying to contain it behind the thin art easel. He’s not very hidden.

“She’s my cousin’s wife.”

Ah, that makes sense then? Messing with family is normal, but also he shouldn’t be bothering her at work.

“It’s no wonder you seemed casual.”

“She taught both of the lower division figure drawing classes, too. This is my third semester in her class. She’s the only one teaching this specific class I didn’t have too much of a choice.”

“Art major?”

“Yep! And you?”

“Psychology major. I have to get in some cultural classes.”

“Ever taken art?”

“Actually no, not even in high school. I got through that stuff by working backstage in the theater department.”

“Well not to worry my friend, because you picked the best one.”

“Is it easy to pass?”

“Nope. Well, maybe if she likes your work,” Matthew deflates at the blunt response, “but don’t worry because I’m here to be your guide.”

Matthew perks up, but it takes him a moment. This guy’s gonna help him?

“Are you any good?”

“Am I good?” He looks perplexed Matthew would even ask. Matthew has to cover his own amusement. “I may not look it but charcoal and I go way back. I’ll show you my work later as proof.”

“Deal.”

“Gilbert, since you’re adamant on talking, you can be the first to introduce yourself.”

Even if his name wasn’t said, Matthew feels just as guilty. Caught, for talking on the first day of all things.

“Gilbert Beilshcmidt. Fourth year. I’m an art major and my favorite breakfast food is pancakes.”

Matthew looks surprised that he was paying attention, even to the last addition of their introduction. Matthew’s not sure he would have known considering he was distracted.

-

And so their friendship starts.

-

Gilbert sits next to him again. And again.

Where ever Matthew sits in the art room, Gilbert follows not too long after.

Some days they take the sitting desks, some they stand and lean against the stools.

And despite not even talking much, Gilbert treats him like a friend.

-

“Do you have any plans this afternoon?”

“Nope, this was my last class.”

“Do you want to get some coffee and work on our sketch books.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

-

Matthew finds himself meeting Gilbert in his downtime. Every Thursday after drawing for three hours becomes the day they meet. At first, all they do is draw, little more.

Gilbert is animated in all moments, but he has short spurts where he focuses exceptionally on his work. Matthew is no art critic, but he thinks Gilbert expresses himself quite well on paper. Graphite, charcoal, and pastels, all the utensils glide easily without a single stroke missing its mark.

Watercolor though, could use some work, which actually happens to be Matthew’s favorite. Even if the intention is to guide the colors with a brush, it’s okay for them to take a life of their own spreading across the thick paper.

They share snacks, art supplies, and their time.

Gilbert proves himself very useful as he promised. Matthew though never planning to be the next Van Gogh, has to pass this class. And it would be nice to pass it with flying colors, but some concepts are harder to grasp than others.

It’s obvious to tell he’s a beginner, while Gilbert excels. Matthew finds out he only now needs the intro class since it’s the first semester it became a requirement.

Gilbert helps him find the shapes he’s comfortable with, explains the processing for hatching and how it relates to shading. And while he’s no expert, he sees a subtle improvement over the next few weeks that makes some pride swell within himself.

-

“Do you want to come with me and my friends to this cool bar for dinner on Friday?” Gilbert asks about a month into the semester.

It’s the first time Gilbert and him will have spent time off campus.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

-

Gilbert’s friends are just as animated as he, it’s almost hard to keep up. Overwhelming as they are, they’re extremely welcoming. Matthew eases into the atmosphere, joining in when he can but mostly pleased to be out and doing something different.

He’s made friends during his time, but like him they’re a little more reserved and pick quieter places on the town.

It’s fun. And he wants to go out again.

Matthew invites Gilbert and his friends to watch his next hockey game.

After their shock in finding out he plays such a violent sport, they’re all agreeing and planning to find the best seats in the arena.

-

“Are you serious. Are you hiding muscles under that red sweater?”

Gilbert pokes at him, it tickles when he gets closer to his biceps, but he knows he’s only teasing.

“You think I’m playing but I’m serious! You should have been there, well you were there. On the stands, I mean. We all screamed after you sent that player flying against the wall.”

Gilbert recreates the motions, but only slams himself into the wall and whines after he bounces back. He then plays it off like it doesn’t hurt. Gilbert’s not a very good actor.

People tell him it’s so much different watching him on the ice, but it’s still him. He’s always wondered how much different, he feels like himself. He just knows he goes into the zone when he’s in his gear. He just wants to win. And he will.

“It’s like night day,” Gilbert continues. “You were ready to kill a man down there.”

“You’re not the first to say that. I guess maybe, I could be a little more out there in real life, huh?”

Gilbert stops walking.

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“You’re perfectly fine the way you are. I like the way you are, so don’t go change. I don’t want to be at risk of dying during art class.”

And as silly as it sounds, he’s pleased. He likes Gilbert a whole lot, too. Just the way he is.

-

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” Matthew takes the initiative.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, just you and me. I want to take you out.”

“Like you did to that guy on the court,” Gilbert laughs nervously.

“On a date. Gilbert, would you like go out with me?”

He says yes.

Later that evening when he’s heading home, Gilbert starts running through the courtyard cheering that “I have a date with the cutest guy I’ve ever met!”

Matthew’s window is open, he’s face is bright red and he slams head first into his pillow. He needs to plan the best first date ever.

-

Three months into dating, he’s finally heading home again for a school break. He wants to take Gilbert with him, who is waiting for the next major holiday to go back home. But isn’t it too soon? They haven’t been dating that long, after all.

But Gilbert surprises him, and jokingly says he wants to go with him because he’ll miss him too much while he’s gone. And then, Matthew asks if he seriously wants to go.

“I do.”

So they ride the 3 hours train down to Matthew’s childhood home. He’s a little bit nervous, because he’s had dates to school dances, and brought friends over, but this is entirely different. This is someone he wants to take a serious step with, even if the time hasn’t been that long. They’ll never get anywhere if they don’t, so they’ll both take the leap and pray it works out.

“Mom, dad, Alfred, this is Gilbert.”

It’s the most timid Matthew’s ever seen him.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Matthew’s boyfriend.”

After he shakes all their hands, he takes his hand back to link pinkies with Matthew.

There’s not an once of regret in his mind as the long weekend passes.

-

Gilbert graduates the next year, and the year after it’s his turn. They’re going to move in with each other. Gilbert really has no irresistible urge to go back to his home town, satisfied with just visiting a few times a year. And Matthew thinks he would like to go back closer, just to figure out his next move. So, they go together.

It’s only a one bedroom, but is more than enough space for them both. Gilbert finds work as a docent while Matthew works for a second degree in education.

He still plays hockey for a local league, Gilbert becoming their number one fan. They find their own rhythm, a pace that works for them both, where they can settle down or speed up when they agree with each other. Dewey mornings, warm summers, chilly evenings they spend them altogether.

They decide move up North closer to Gilbert’s hometown. Matthew’s more nervous meeting his grandparents than he was introducing Gilbert to his own family, but Gilbert assures him again and again they’re just a stuffy old family who actually really care about each other a lot more than they let off.

Gilbert’s grandfather towers over him, despite being a hair above 6 feet. He’s silent, eyes boring into Matthew as he introduces himself. And to end all of Matthew’s worries, the elder man pulls Matthew into a hug and tells him he’s glad him and Gilbert are home. Gilbert, just as perplexed as he, stares, but he melts into a pleased laugh.

Yeah, this is his and Gilbert’s home now.

-

They stay, for a long while, contemplate moving a few times, but they’re satisfied for now.

Gilbert and him always make time for each other, continue their own respective interests with complete support of the other. They’re never afraid to complain, because they always work through it rather then let it simmer.

Gilbert’s vivacious spirit keep them going, and Matthew’s heart keeps them grounded.

His life at first seem a little bit ordinary, but how can he complain when the pieces of the puzzle fit themselves in and stayed locked in tight.

[cloveroctobers]

i was wondering if you could do an imagine where olivia is sexually assaulted and after her behaviour around the house drastically changes until she eventually tells jordan + her parents? i just wanted to see a protective, baker family imagine that focused on her :))

TW: mentions of s******* assault, trauma, bodily fluids, college parties, panic attacks, depression, etc…

A/N: took me a minute to decide if I wanted to write this piece since it’s slightly triggering for myself and can be to others. Not overly detailed ofc but I hope when I do fully get back into writing we’ll have some happy moments to come! Especially for my girl Liv.

SOMETHINGS WRONG — O. Baker

Olivia Baker felt like she could make a list of what she can now label herself as which held negative connotations:

The pill popper

The drunk

That mixed girl

The other twin

The girl with no solid friends

The boyfriend-stealer

The wannabe woke girl

And now the victim

She couldn’t get her mind to grasp that. That this happened to her, that she let this happen to her. If she was in her right mind she would realize that this isn’t something she could ever blame herself for but she knew others would, if she ever let them know. But she wouldn’t, she couldn’t.

What was supposed to be a fun weekend in Atlanta turned into a moment she wouldn’t forget. It was all fun and games, it actually felt like the one true moment in time where she felt free and happy. Surrounded by good people with good intentions, which only consisted of Spencer, Jordan, and Simone. These were her main people, her right hands, and her go-to but that seemed to fade the night her life drastically changed—yet again.

The events that occurred that night were burned into her mind in spurts. Olivia couldn’t piece them all together but she knew. She knew something was wrong with the way that she felt even though she was dressed as if nothing occurred. She knew the moment she pulled herself off the floor in her own drool to look at herself in the mirror that something was wrong. She knew it in her appearance and in the way that she felt. Her confirmations were proven correct when she decided to use the bathroom, what she felt, and what she saw.

She was gagging and struggling to breathe. Olivia Baker knew something happened to her when she realized she woke up alone on the cold bathroom floor. She was doing so well and thought she was stronger than this, how could this be added to the things of what happened to her or what she allowed to happen to her? Her mind was weak, somewhere in the night she let her guard down and now she was here. It all felt like her fault.

What will they say about her now?

Olivia’s experienced a handful of trauma in her teenage life before but THIS…this was something else. She felt like she was going to pass out again until she found the strength to let the anxiety take its course in subsiding. Pushing herself up with a huge whimper and wince, she began searching the bathroom for her phone as it was not on her body. She remembered the first thing she wanted to do was document this because as soon as she got back to Simone’s aunt’s house she was going to wash away the filth she felt.

Perhaps that was another mistake but she couldn’t erase what she felt beneath and on her skin. It felt like Olivia was moving in slow motion searching the fancy bathroom, stumbling and shoving items out of the way in search of her device. When she slipped on something in the bathroom, she failed to catch herself, her cheek colliding with the tile floor, she knew that would leave another bruise along with the rest on her body. Her eyes connected with the object which looked to be covered in what appeared to be blood.

With a shaky finger she reached out to it, and recoiled back as her finger became coated in the copper stench. That’s when the tears began to cloud her vision and she wanted to cover her cries but she felt frozen, like she did hours prior. So she cried until her body ached internally and furthermore externally, and with a shaky breath those came to a halt when she heard something rattling.

She moved painfully slow, ripping the shower curtain back to see her phone tossed in the stone shower face down. Swallowing, she picked the phone up to see that the now missed call was from Jordan. She had over thirty missed calls and fifteen text messages. Blinking Olivia unlocked her phone and opened up her camera and angled her phone before hearing multiple shutter speeds.

At least that part of her mind was still functioning. She thought to herself bitterly as she went over to the mirror once again, setting her phone down on the counter to call a Uber back to Simone’s aunt’s house.

This was just another scar in her story, she guessed. So she rinsed her face, and gave Simone a call first…feeling as if this was the best option out of the three…when all she really wanted to do was call her mom.

“Olivia!” Simone greeted, “Girl, where the hell are you? Last night was so crazy and Jordan was trying to stalk you but realized you turned off your location, which he said is something you’d never do but I figured since you went off with Othello and them you would be fine.”

It took a minute for Olivia to respond. Her vision still locked on her reflection as that name sent something through her. Making her eyes close shut as she heard the voice introduce itself with that name but she couldn’t connect the face to it. However it seemed like Simone was familiar with who Olivia disappeared off with.

“I’m in a Uber on my way back to your aunt’s house.” Olivia knew she sounded like herself to Simone but her face was stoney and she did not feel like herself…as to be expected.

Simone nodded, “okay…cool! I’m glad you got back to one of us because we were getting a little worried.”

“Worried I’d relapse?” Olivia stated but cleared her throat knowing Simone didn’t deserve the brunt of her trauma, “Please tell me Jordan didn’t call our parents.”

Simone chose to ignore that, wishing later that she didn’t—however her and Olivia were still trying to build their relationship as in-laws so they were still feeling out each other’s temperaments and personalities, “No. I persuaded him not to…although I know that would have changed if you didn’t show up at some part today and I don’t blame him. Him and Spencer are getting a little stir-crazy without you. So please bring your butt here so my aunt can take us to this flea market she keeps going on about.”

“Alright,” Olivia breathed out a laugh that felt humorless to her, “I should be there in ten according to the ride but we all know down here in the south it’s really thirty minutes.”

“Tell me about it! It’s always ‘oh, it’s right down the street!’ But why we still driving tho?!” Simone laughed, “see you soon. I’ll let the boys know you’re on your way.”

And with that they ended the call.

Olivia shoved the clothes she worn that night back underneath her bed, still unwashed and out of sight. She went searching under her bed after her black oil pastel pencil slid off her bed. It was always in the back of her mind that the clothes rotted underneath the place where she lay her head. Sleep no longer existed to her but it’s not like a good portion of concealer didn’t help hide her puffy bags.

Olivia was violated going on about three weeks now and she was expected to go on like everything was okay. That was the challenge. And it was exhausting and moments throughout her day felt like someone would hold onto her throat and squeeze for minutes at a time.

She kept up with her therapy so that nothing about her seemed suspicious. She had thoughts about her pills and the thoughts about sipping alcohol made her stomach turn—so perhaps that part was a good thing. Her dad moved back into the house so the family dynamic was shifting yet again, her mom made it her mission to not have any booze in the house and any over the counter medication that was addressed to any of them in the house would be under only her and Billy’s care.

Those wouldn’t be strong enough for Olivia anyways, and that thought alone made her laugh bitterly but she was glad someone was taking the initiative to her health. Liv was not to have any access to it. It might not have been said but Olivia Baker always paid attention to everything.

She was doing well at hiding, almost flawless in her mind; that something had changed her life for the worse. Whereas with her pill popping/partying had been out in the open and her drinking was slightly undercover, Olivia thought she was doing well acting like her assault didn’t take place—yet the signs were there however it was cautious on how to approach. She had been careless, leaving her phone unlocked when she went off to the bathroom and with iPhone’s broadcasting your memories with photo’s was what lit the flame.

Laura was sitting at the island previously with Olivia while the boys were seated on the couch watching some game. She was sipping her voss water when Olivia’s phone let out the alert, which was closer to Laura’s view. At first Laura thought they were nudes but when she picked the phone up to click on the photo’s, she felt her heart drop to her stomach. A gasp unknowingly left her lips, causing Billy to look over his shoulder at his on-again wife.

“Laura, baby? Are you alright?”

Before she could say anything else Olivia walked back into the room, rubbing the hand cream further into her hands as she made her way over to her mom. When Laura snapped her head up to stare at her daughter, Olivia immediately stopped in her tracks feeling her mother’s eyes almost stinging her skin.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Olivia tilted her head to the side, wondering why the blonde woman appeared distraught.

Laura wanted to hold the phone up but felt a protectiveness come over her not wanting to gain the attention of the two men in the house, even though Billy already had his body turned sideways at the exchange.

“Olivia, what is this?” Laura whispered, pointing at the phone.

It didn’t dawn on Olivia right away what her mother could be possibly be talking about, in a sense she tried to forget but when she looked back at her art pieces, once she completed them in her sketch book, she realized unconsciously it’s not something you can just forget.

Laura swiped against Olivia’s phone at each picture making Olivia sharply turn her head to the side and swallow the lump that formed in her throat.

“Who’s in these images, Olivia?!” Laura didn’t mean to raise her voice, but she wanted answers.

Now she gained the attention of Jordan who broke his eyes away from the commercial playing on the television.

Olivia chewed on her chapped lips not wanting to say anything. She didn’t want anyone else adding this to their list of things to worry about when it came to her. It was ironic really, Olivia Baker was always involving herself in everyone else’s issues but pushed her own pain to the side. She vowed with Spencer that they would start to only worry about themselves this senior year and yet Olivia seemed to not do that. In a sense…she going to therapy, she was picking back up her old hobby to ease her mind but the huge problem about this was she wasn’t talking about it. To anyone.

“Olivia—

Laura seemed to take a different approach, using what she learned in family therapy to level her tone and to not make her daughter feel cornered. However she was highly concerned and she wanted to hear what she already suspected from these pictures. She kept her eyes trained on Olivia who reached out to the island to balance herself, now feeling the room spin. Laura pushed the bar stool back and went to Olivia’s aid but she flinched, ripping her body away from her mother which made Laura let out a small sob.

“What’s going on?” Billy asked, now getting to his feet.

Laura didn’t want to show Billy the pictures but with the way she was clutching Olivia’s phone to her chest made the man snatch the phone from his wife’s grasp.

Billy on the other hand was furious. He rubbed at his face and Olivia didn’t want to see the expression on his face so she kept her back to the both of them now. It was when Jordan towered over Olivia, hoping that he could get an answer out of her opposed to what their parents were failing to do, he didn’t touch her but he paid close attention to the way she was acting right now and how his father was trying not to scream in the kitchen.

Something was wrong. Jordan could feel it more than sense it from what his parents were demonstrating, and yeah they were twins but they haven’t radiated the same energy off the other since they were kids. And who’s to know that might have just been in their heads like many people tried to argue but Jordan and Olivia were extremely close as kids, they shared a whole womb together so they had to share more connections outside in the world too? Their bond was much stronger as children but they were making their way back to each other as they got older. Yes they were their own people but it’s undeniable if they said energy was never a factor in their relationship as twins.

Jordan was calm as he peered down into Olivia’s for eyes, patient, waiting for her to say what she willing to say. Everything was silent to her ears, Olivia blocked out Billy wheezing out his frustrations as he crouched down in front of the island and Laura’s cries.

Olivia felt so small.

Jordan knew before Spencer said something that Olivia was acting a little off. He tried to be better as a brother in paying attention to her as she always did for him. He was worried when she disappeared off with some kid named after Shakespeare that Simone used to spend summer’s with as a kid. Sure Simone said he and his friends were good people but they were also a year or two older, settling into the toxic part of college life. He was the last one with Olivia after they watched some performances with Spencer and Simone already on the dance floor with other people.

“You let Liv go off with these people we don’t even know?” Jordan remembers Spencer saying to him after he got off the dance floor.

Jordan didn’t like how Spencer said this to him so he replied back with, “you were just on the dance floor with someone you don’t know. None of us control my sister, Spence. She’s allowed to hang out with whoever she wants. Plus Simone says Oscar is good people.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know that man,” Spencer tried to come correct, “Simone said she only spent summers with othello,” He informed Jordan of the guy’s actual name which Jordan sucked his teeth at, “so that doesn’t mean she really knows him all that well either.”

“Are you trying to question my girl, right now?” Jordan furrowed his brows, always looking for a fight due to his impulsiveness.

Spencer raised his brows, “I’m not questioning nothing. I’m just stating the obvious. We don’t know nobody out here, we not from here. We just have to be smarter is all I’m sayin’.”

Jordan didn’t like to be wrong but he felt like he wasn’t completely wrong? Sure his big brother instincts should have kicked in stronger but he was too focused on some corny dude pushing up on Simone. That was a little foul now that he thought back on it, Olivia should have been just as important—and she is. Which is why he wanted to do right in the present.

He noticed before Layla pointed out a couple of times that Olivia was bringing out the darker fashion choices and that it was nice to see sometimes, since she “did it so well.” He noticed before Simone told him to tell Olivia that she would be over to help her straighten the back of her hair out and he noticed that she was wearing eyeliner in her waterline again.

He noticed the long showers and staying outside in the rain, he noticed she’s been slacking on her podcast and scribbling in her old sketch book. He noticed her listening to nothing but Fiona Apple, Billie Holiday, old Alicia Keys songs, and Fefe Dobson instead of her usual song choices like: Aaliyah, Jorja Smith, Billie Eilish, H.E.R., Doja Cat, and Mereba. He even fought with himself at night standing outside her closed door to say something. He did remember asking her one night at dinner, which she barely ate, if she was okay and with a smile that didn’t reach her rimmed eyes…she said she was.

To Olivia it was silent as she admitted her truth about what happened to her in Atlanta, but to the rest of the Baker’s it was loud and clear. Over the course of three weeks, she gathered it all. The memories came back when they needed to and the fact that he reached out to her twice since she returned home was appalling. Olivia didn’t know if it was the guilt—that might have been a stretch…she didn’t know the piece of shit of a person at all, the audacity, or the curiosity on his part to see what she was going to do about this. If anything. She gave no information away in the DM’s, in fact she barely sent anything back.

There was no weight that lifted from her chest as she spoke her secret into the air, she still felt pain that she tried to numb down but it just felt like another burden she inflicted on her loved ones and she hated that idea. That she caused this. Most days she felt numb but she knew anger was brewing along the horizon.

Jordan went to Olivia who stepped back, which felt like Jordan just got punched in the gut. And he’s taken a lot of hits before in his eighteen years of life but this one might have been the worse blow he’s experienced. And that’s coming from a guy still healing from a concussion.

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry, Liv I—.” She heard Her twin say to her but it sounded like she was under water.

Life has been that way for awhile now, if you truly asked her.

‘I don’t want pitty.’ Her inner thoughts hissed. That was last thing she wanted. She was now coming to terms that she wanted this emptiness to vanish, if that was what this even was. She wanted to be back to where she was or at least as a kid where she didn’t have to worry about a damn thing. She didn’t want to endure what she’s been feeling since she entered her teenage years. Olivia Baker wanted so much more out of this life but lately it seems as if her purpose was to only be handed out shitty lessons instead.

What lesson was this? To showcase how the world can take away anything it wanted and leave you to deal or not deal with the aftermath afterwards?

The anger was indeed setting in.

Olivia didn’t realize that eventually Jordan put his arms around her and she gripped onto him for dare life. Her body didn’t shrink into itself like it commonly did weeks after what happened whenever someone touched her.

Her parents kept their distance picking up on the fact that she didn’t want to be touched but her other half held onto her and that seemed to be a step in the right direction for now. Instead Billy and Laura held onto each other too, their heads whirling around with how to further provide the best possible care for their daughter.

[rosierin]

Studying with you

pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

synopsis: after finding out about your gradually decreasing grades, your teacher urges you to change your studying methods and decides to find you a tutor among the class. shame that tutor is literally the biggest jerk known to man. you swear he knows nothing but insults and that his heart is made of stone. or is it?

genre: fluff

type: oneshot

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i hate love this guy, srsly

"Oi, (y/n). Wake up, we're not finished." 

Your head jerks up and you let out a loud, drawn out groan as your eyes refocus on the man in front of you. He's sneering, same as usual, and you wish you could suddenly go back to dream land where you were happily baking cookies with Hinata and Kageyama. 

Beneath your arms are two gaping algebra textbooks. One is riddled with scribbly notes and an unnecessary amount of pointless doodles, except the one of Tsukishima— scowling with a head drawn way too big compared to the rest of his skinny body. The other is filled with neat, detailed formulas, pastel highlights and all the correct answers which you've been struggling to find for the past two hours.

"I'm up, I'm up, geez.." You yawn with your head still on the table and look up at Tsukishima with drowsy eyes. "You could've woken me up a little nicer, ya know."

"Yeah.. no. How about you hurry up and finish so I can go home?" He looks more than done at this point and huffs, pointing at a formula jotted messily on your paper. "And you got that one wrong again, by the way."

You squint at your work, then realize he was right. "Oh. My bad."

Wanting to get things over with, you get back to work but your eyelids are so heavy it's ridiculous. Not to mention your brainpower has reached its limit.

You can feel your grip on your pen loosen as you try and correct your work but before you know it, your head drops again, only to be jolted awake by a sudden smack to the back of the head with what feels like a textbook.

"What the— Do you mind?!" You snap. 

Tsukishima doesn't react to your outburst in the slightest, just nods to your unfinished work with a look of lazy authority. "Algebra." He stares at you with a deadpan expression when you pout. "Now." 

"Fiiine." You sigh, annoyed that your puppy dog eyes didn't work on Tsukishima. Not that you thought they would. Tsukishima didn't seem like the type to particularly like animals, except maybe for dinosaurs. He had a small keychain of one buried deep within his pencil case, you found. "You know, you'd make a terrible teacher."

This time, it's Tsukishima's turn to yawn, stretching his long limbs and you have to force yourself not to focus on the pull of his lean muscles despite yourself. Then, he turns to look at you with a look of false innocence. "Sorry, go on?"

"I hate you."

"Great. Now ask me if I care."

You suck in through your teeth as you hold back from socking the blonde straight in the face. He's been sassing you non-stop since the beginning of your study session and you'd think you'd be used to his perpetual cocky remarks by now but alas, he was still a huge pain in your ass.

"Where're you going?" You ask as Tsukishima gets up from his chair that's in front of your desk, dusting the eraser shavings off your textbooks.

"Aw. Think you'll miss me?"

You bite your lip down and he notices, smirking contently before deciding to answer: "going to get some water. That question better be finished by the time I get back."

He's gone before you can retort, long legs granting him a quick escape. However halfway down the hallway you hear him add: "or I'll make you do three more."

Great.

"Yessir," you sigh, though you have absolutely no intention of following through.

You glance down at your textbooks for good measure— textbooks which are practically staring at you, and you can picture them with beady little eyes as though they're chanting— soooolve ussss.

You shudder. Man, you really were tired.

"Yeah, no. Sorry, Tsukki."

Pushing your homework aside, unfazed by your salty tutor's threats, you decide it's time for an actual break. You deserved it, right? Yeah, yeah you did. So without second thought, you let your attention drift to the scenery outside instead.

You'd been so focused on your homework (and Tsukishima's sass) that you hadn't even noticed the beautiful sunset that was now setting over the hills of Karasuno High. You always loved the way it looked at this hour, basking the buildings and tall, lush trees in its warm light. It was all too soothing, so soothing that you hadn't even realized you were once more falling asleep, eyeslids fighting to stay open until they finally gave in and what little willpower you had left, left your body.

"Right, time's up. You better be finish—"

The moment Tsukishima walks back into the classroom, eyes settling on your current state— sprawled out on your desk, mouth slightly agape and completely out cold, he's overcome with the urge to sigh.

He walks over to your desk and sits down opposite you, then as he leans his cheek into his palm, he lazily pokes your cheek— once, twice, but gets no reaction in response.

"You've got to be kidding me.." He sighs. But he decides to not bother and wake you up this time. What'd be the point? You clearly weren't in any shape to study and honestly, he didn't have the patience in him anymore to try in case it'd drive him crazy.

For a second he debates just leaving you there, passed out of your classroom desk, but quickly decides against it in case he gets an earful from your parents about leaving you alone or something. The last thing he wants is any extra trouble.

Therefore he agrees, albeit begrudgingly, to let you sleep. Just until you were rested up enough to work again.

⭐

Thirty minutes go by, you're still fast asleep.

During that time, Tsukishima took it upon himself to slip his headphones on and listen to some beats, hazel eyes flitting beyond the window to watch the last of the sunset, hoping it'd make the time go by quicker.

Usually, this would be right up his alley; peace and quiet, chill lofi and a sunset, however when sat on a painfully uncomfortable, wooden chair rather than his comfy and plump single bed, the experience was significantly less appealing. Therefore, after trying to find a comfortable sitting position and failing for the fourth time he decides to take his headphones off and focus back on his studies— he might as well, only when he reaches for his pen, he realizes it isn't there.

Amber eyes scan the table. Usually it'd be in his pencil case; he doesn't remember taking it ou—

Ah, never mind. It all makes sense when he sees it. Not in his pencil case after all, but balanced precariously between your fingers.

He rolls his eyes.

Why didn't she just use her own pen?

Reaching for it, he attempts to pull it out of your grasp only to freeze when you begin to stir.

He doesn't know why at this point— he could just wake you up, that's what he'd initially planned. But now, for some reason, there's something that prevents him from doing so. Maybe it had something to do with the way you were sleeping so peacefully.

He tries to pull at his pen again— gently— but this time, it isn't you stirring that makes him seize up, but the way your index and middle finger hook around his own.

His brain stutters.

Well, this is new.

Tsukishima's back straightens an awkward amount, completely unsure of what to do. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before. He becomes painfully aware of that. He's also painfully aware that you could possibly wake up while holding him like this.

Thankfully, you don't. And although the tenseness of his body is beginning to hurt, he still takes the time to admire your sleeping form.

You're laying crossed armed, head nestled between them, facing him. He watches your body rise and fall ever so gently, can almost hear your quiet breaths. It's picturesque, almost; the way your hair glows beneath the bright full moon. Unknowingly, his thumb twitches nearer, gravitating towards the warmth of your hand and he can almost feel—

"Enjoying yourself there?"

Suddenly he's frozen. Though it only lasts a second, for the next he's already retracted his hand, folding it under his arm like it was never there to begin with.

"Wh— How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough," you say, smiling curiously at him and for once the tables have been turned; the teased having become the teaser. "So you can be nice sometimes."

Tsukishima's expression is anything but impressed as you mock him, his face caught between confused and annoyed, and dare you say even a little bit embarrassed? He's quick to shake it off though, sparing himself of any sly comment as he regains his usual cool demeanor.

"Please. You're the one who grabbed me first," he scoffs.

"But you didn't try to move," you shoot back.

There's a strange atmosphere that settles in the room as your mishief-glinting eyes bore into his, and Tsukishima doesn't dare talk back for once, having been robbed of all witty comebacks. He hates being at a loss for words, but he hates even more so, the beginnings of a grin forming on your features, one that he knows is a result of his shortcomings.

"Whatever, (y/n) just pack up your stuff. We're done for the night," he says as he himself starts tidying his belongings.

You chuckle then nod your head. "Sure thing, sensei."

"...don't call me that."

"Sensei."

"Urgh, shut up."

⭐

⭐

⭐

Later that night, when you're lying in bed, ready to fall asleep, your eyes snap open as your phone buzzes underneath your pillow. You pull it out and press the home button, wondering who could possibly be texting you at this hour. When you do, you're surprised when it's Tsukishima's ID that pops up.

He had sent one message:

"Oh and by the way, you drool when you sleep."