#deh x artist!reader

[boba-beom]

ᥫ᭡⋆｡˚⊹  I Like U (sorry, I never meant to) | part 1 — 'don't drop her!'

pairing: beomgyu x gn!reader

genre: fluff, romance | non-idol au, strangers to friends to ???

synopsis: after meeting one of your best friend’s friends, you initially found him attractive and thought he’d be a careless crush that would soon dissipate into nothing. that is, until a series of events proved you wrong and perhaps those feelings lingered longer than they should have. would something become of it?

warning(s): slice of life, slow burn(ish), mentions of food, physical affection, bickering, more mentions of star signs, I will try my best to make it as gender neutral as possible as some parts are based off from my perspective. if there's anything I've missed, let me know!

wc: 3.2k

a/n: this celebration I am referring to is very big in the filipino culture. it's called a philippine 'debut' (deh-boo). it's to celebrate one who is coming of age, entering adulthood as a young woman.

prev || masterlist || next

5 months have passed since your first interaction with Beomgyu. however, it was not the last time you had interacted. after you accepted his follow request and followed him back on instagram, you've been going back and forth liking each other's stories, recommending songs and sharing playlists with each other after you found out he also listens to the same niche artist as you. you may have overreacted, but none of your friends knew the artist until you saw his story with your favourite song posted to it.

to think that this happened over the course of the summer vacation, you were almost unfazed that you would be meeting him again for Tara's birthday. almost. you were extremely excited to visit the island again, after discussing Tara's 18th birthday celebrations, along with receiving her invitations through the post. you told yourself that all thoughts unrelated to Tara's birthday were to be pushed to the back of your head, making sure that this was going to be unforgettable and you wanted to prioritise that.

Tara has always been one to be interested in star-gazing, knowing things about star signs; whether she can guess people's star signs based off of their personality traits, or even upon first or second meeting.

you recall the facetime call you had with your best friend just a couple of days before your trip to the island. she had asked a huge favour from you — which was to help with the decorations. after knowing Tara for more than half of your life you know that they will go above and beyond when it comes to celebrations. be it weddings, birthdays, anniversaries, seasonal holidays; her and her family will do the most and it's their branding at this point.

now that you're back on the island again, you've missed everything about it. the greenery of the fields, trees arching over roads creating beautiful tunnels by nature, the fact that your best friend lives by the beach and how beautiful it would be to watch the sunrise and set with the sound of the waves rolling over the shell beach.

"hey, we've got guests coming over just after lunch. we can decorate later this evening, is that okay with you?" Tara wraps her arms around your shoulders, interrupting your gaze on your phone from the pictures of the sunrise you took earlier that morning.

"yeah that's no problem, need me to help you with anything?" you tilt your head to nudge her temple, responding to her affectionate gesture.

"actually, could you just finish the rest of those centre pieces, please?" you hum in response, "oh, and I heard Beomgyu's going to be on his way soon." she shrugs, walking out of the living room to call her other friends to discuss the time for cotillion practice.

Beomgyu. it's been a while since you've seen the name, let alone hear it. you wonder if it'll be a little awkward seeming as the last time you spoke was mid summer. there's not a lot you know about this guy, really, other than the fact that his texts are completely opposite to how he is in person; pretty dry.

pushing those thoughts aside, you pick up the glue gun and start gluing a small assortment of three to four blue and yellow roses in the small glass, cylindrical centre pieces. each centre piece had table numbers handwritten in pretty cursive handwriting, remembering that it must have been by one of Tara's friends.

each cylinder had mini battery-operated fairy lights, pulling the vision together. though there were several elements left for the remaining decorations. the completed ones were starting to look really pretty altogether.

you gather the completed centre pieces and place them in a brown cardboard box, ready for the next batch until you hear the familiar tone of Tara's voice greeting someone by the front door.

"hey Beomgyu, you're super early." you hear her laugh, "y/n's inside, you remember them, right?"

"of course." he says, walking in and making brief eye contact with you sitting on the carpeted floor.

your eyes widen slightly, brows raised and unexpected to meet him again. his hair has started to grow a little longer compared to the last time you saw him. the front pieces of his hair just about grazing his brows, and the back just touching the bottom of his nape.

"y/n?" he calls out, snapping you out of whatever it was that you were stuck in momentarily, "I asked if you need any help?" now he's sitting in the armchair by the window.

"oh. no I'm good, almost done anyway. Thank you though." you politely smile up at him, watching him take his phone out of his pocket and turning it on.

"suit it yourself." he shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes leaving yours and onto his phone's screen. you scoff a little, ignoring his response.

it was silent in the living room for almost an hour, just the occasional mini conversations between you and Tara, or Tara and Beomgyu talking about certain points of the cotillion. they were partners after all.

once you've finished with the remaining smaller decorations, you stand up to stretch before walking over to start the final decoration — Tara's name decor — which was to be placed by the display near the front inside the venue. it was her first name along with her middle name, and although they weren't long, you were aware that the process would be. having to sketch out her name in cursive, then to paint it in gold and to glue gold glitter all over it.

Beomgyu, on the other hand, started the large '18' cardboard cutout with collage photos of Tara from the photoshoot that she took a couple of months back. the pictures were beautiful, especially the few from the beach. she was standing where the mini waves were just touching her feet while she was wearing a long, black chiffon-layered dress with a spaghetti-strap. the sunset in the background created a pretty silhouette with the layers of the chiffon dress blown in the wind, and you were then starting to realise that your best friend is about to be a young woman. the thought of that was almost enough to make you emotional. almost. there's still two more days until the big day.

you start on the sketching, outlining the letters on the A1 styrofoam board, until you hear Beomgyu playing some songs from what you thought was the playlist he recommended to you. you pause for a second or two, trying to figure out which song it was and it was one of the first songs that you recommended to him months ago. smiling to yourself, you assume he compiled songs from both playlists and created a new one after listening further in the playlist.

"Beomgyu, y/n, I need you here." Tara calls after you both, her brows are scrunched up and eyes narrowed at the screen of her laptop as she watches a cotillion choreography that she's inspired from.

the sandy, blonde-haired male looks over at you, his head tilting towards Tara, essentially letting you get up and go to her first. he follows after, trailing a little behind you as you take the seat beside Tara while Beomgyu stays standing behind the both of you, just about leaning over your head.

"okay so," she starts, "I'm thinking of adding an extra move, but it's just at the very end." you watch the video as she presses play and observe the way the debutant's partner gave her a few twirls before preparing to lift her by the hip, then doing half a turn while the debutant was lifted.

you notice the way Tara pouts as she pauses the video and looks over to you and Beomgyu. your brows almost knit together, thinking that it would add a nice touch to the end of the cotillion, but realistically this was all in Beomgyu's hands. literally.

"personally, I think it would look really nice. and I know for a fact that your dress is going to look beautiful during that turn." you replay the video as the three of you rewatch it and notice the way the debutant's dress flows slightly in the air, almost in slow motion. it also reminds you of that one picture from the photoshoot and you were so sure that they'd regret it if they don't try it out.

"I don't know. the debut is in two days and tomorrow we're literally going to be spending the day to decorate the venue, and then—"

"Beomgyu, calm down, you haven't even tried it yet." you turn around and look up at him rolling his eyes at you. "try it out before the rest arrives for practice."

"y/n, are you being for real right now?" his lips twist, he's not convinced just yet, you think.

"come onnnn, Beomgyu try it out~" you sing song, "for Tara." you put your arm over your best friend's shoulders, bringing her in closer while she pouts at him.

it's always hard for Beomgyu to turn Tara down for anything. you'd think their relationship is pretty tight, but as they grew up together and being only two years apart they have that sibling energy about them. Tara is Beomgyu's weak spot, and this is the first time you've witnessed it.

"okay, fine." he sighs, defeated, but you see him smile over to Tara while ruffling the top of her head. you had no clue that you had been staring at the interaction between them for a second too long until Beomgyu calls out your name again. "you need to make sure I do it properly, I'm doing this for Tara." his voice was a little stern towards you, but it didn't bother you too much. he sounded quite defensive over the fact that he isn't doing this because you convinced him to, but you knew that that was exactly the reason why.

Tara makes her way out the back door into the garden, it was big enough to fit six pairings for the cotillion. to your surprise, she's only just told you that they have been practicing for three weeks and they only managed to remember everything the week that had just passed.

you sit on the stool by the door, facing the garden as you wait for the two to get into position for the ending of the cotillion. the pair face each other for a couple of seconds before Beomgyu twirls Tara twice, preparing for the lift. he lifts her hip onto the side of his leg, attempting to pivot in place for the turn with the other leg, but they stumble a little and Beomgyu lets go of Tara. you stand up as quick as you can to catch Tara from tripping forward and falling over.

"don't drop her!" you shout at Beomgyu. he looks at you with bland eyes, deadpan towards you.

"well, this was your idea, right?" he huffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"am I her partner?" you retort, your hands still holding onto Tara's forearm while she stands properly.

"guys, it's fine. Beomgyu, let's try again." Tara looks directly into your eyes and then Beomgyu after, her way of getting the both of you to stop arguing.

after a few attempts of the ending routine, it eventually got better to the point Tara wanted to try it out along with the music to make sure they get the timing right. you also suggest to take a video so they can review it after and they both agree. your index finger hovers over the space bar, patiently waiting for Tara to indicate when to press play.

you watch them do the routine once more until the crucial part came about, "okay, and now!" you shout as soon as the music reaches the part where the lift starts.

you watch beomgyu lift Tara steadily with a clean landing — no stumbling over or minor trips in sight. the music fades as it ends and you end the video before applauding them while you make your way toward them.

"see, I knew you could do it." you nudge Beomgyu, passing him the phone and notice the corners of his lips twitch upwards as he watches the successful move.

Tara's pleased to say the least, looking over at the phone at the same time and giving you the biggest smile.

"I know I'm terrible at thinking of things and adding things last minute, but I think that was one of my best ideas." she crosses her arms, proud of the decision she made regardless of the trouble it caused, especially between you and Beomgyu.

"yeah, you're lucky your partner was eventually convinced to do it." you tease.

"okay, okay. I get it. at least we've got that sorted out now." Beomgyu sighs, not amused with you repeating how you were right.

after heading back inside the house, you check the time and it's still early for the rest of Tara's friends to arrive for the practice. thinking of getting food before they arrive was the best idea, but Tara was called to have a dress rehearsal in case of any more altering. so it was down to you and Beomgyu to go and get food.

༺ ༻

you were grateful that the weather was good for a nice walk; the air was mildly warm with the smallest bit of breeze blown through your hair every now and then.

following Beomgyu in silence wasn't as bad as you thought. he walks in front of you, and you notice the wire of his white earphones dangling out of his pocket while he had the other in his ear.

"what song are you listening to?" you spoke up a little quieter than you expected. luckily you were just around the corner to the pizza shop, so you both stop once you cross the narrow, one way road.

"over eighty-five." he glances at you, holding eye contact for what felt like a minute to you and turns around to walk into the pizza shop.

he left you dumbfounded, remembering that that was the song that started the whole exchanging songs ordeal. you mindlessly blink at the shop front a couple of times before following suit, waiting behind him as he orders four boxes of pizzas for the group later on.

his voice is gentle when he talks to the owner of the shop. there's a lot of people in this part of the island, and everyone knows each other, if not, know of each other.

the way they exchange in conversation seems like he comes here often, the middle-aged man laughs at a bit and you see how endearing it was to see the interaction.

nevertheless, you had to set aside that it could potentially be the fact that the leo in Beomgyu is loving the attention, or it could even just be the big heart in him. either way, quietly observing them kept you entertained until he walked toward you, waiting beside you.

"Beomgyu?" your voice a little louder this time compared to earlier. he turns his head towards you, raising his brow with a hum. he isn't as firm as he was earlier, and he could physically see your shoulders relax in the smallest way possible. "can we go see that coffee shop that we walked past on the way here?"

to his surprise, that was not what he was expecting. he can sense that you've been tip-toeing around him since he arrived at Tara's house, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like you.

"yeah, we can do. we'll take the shortcut there, it'll be quicker on the way back too." he flashes you the same gentle smile he gave you the first time you met, and you notice a small dimple that disappeared not even in a fraction of a second. kinda cute.

༺ ༻

as soon as the pizzas were ready, the shop owner bids the both of you goodbye with a polite smile. you and Beomgyu split the pizza boxes to carry them back while you take up a different route, again, leaving it up to the island boy.

"how long are you staying this time anyway?" he asks you, half turning his head to face you but also making sure he watches where he's walking.

"oh, we're leaving the day after Tara's birthday. so not long, really." you reply with a shrug that he wasn't able to see anyway. you had hoped to stay longer than last time, but it was just about the same amount of days.

"I see." you almost miss his response with his quiet voice, along with a car that had driven past the both of you. but you wonder why he asked, though you knew he was probably curious like the others.

"is Soobin coming for the cotillion practice?" you remembered Soobin abruptly, he was more approachable compared to Beomgyu from the first time you met, and you remember everything clearly.

"yeah." there he is with the short responses again. you almost thought you had somewhat managed to get through to him, but it's going to be tricky with someone like him. you can't read him just yet and you're curious whether it's the same for everyone or it's just a 'you thing'.

after walking for a few more silent minutes, you see the cute, rustic coffee shop that caught your eye from earlier. this time, you were able to scan through the menu that's hung up outside on a brown clip board, reading out the set menu and the coffee of the day.

you balance the piled pizza boxes on your hip as you take your phone out to take a quick photo. Beomgyu doesn't hesitate to take the boxes from your hold and pile it on top of his.

your brows raise from the action, looking up at him with a smile followed after. "oh, thanks."

"just so the pizza won't fall. we have people to feed." his response was blunt but you still thanked him for the gesture. he faces to the side while he waits for you to finish taking your pictures, but you couldn't ignore the way the sun shines over him and some shadows from the lamppost lay over him.

you love taking photos in general. some say you're talented and you should be a photographer, but you just find it as a hobby and you don't want to take that fun aspect away.

finding a photogenic subject with a beautiful background was not easy to find, until you turn around to see exactly that. you had no second thoughts to take a picture or two of Beomgyu's side profile — to which you were extremely fascinated by — only capturing from his shoulders and up.

"let's go? I think they'll be there soon." Beomgyu speaks up, eyes meeting the sight of you holding your phone up and facing him, causing you to swiftly tuck your phone back into your pocket and reach out for the two boxes that Beomgyu took from you.

he turns quickly, so you miss and briefly grab nothing but the air where you were initially reaching out for.

"it's okay. I got it." is all he says before he continues walking in the direction of a different shortcut. a smile is twitching upon his lips as he senses you trailing behind him in confusion. if there's something you didn't know about him, it's that he's extremely observant, and his peripheral vision never fails him.

taglist: @bb-eilish @iggynor4 @ericyjun @bluejin0812 @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @hyuntaena @day6andetcetera @amethysts-1620 @gorechoi-backup @dainsleif-when-playable @choiwrld @yjusei @feyregels @ahnneyong @potaeto-writes-on-wp @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @vatterie @yunkiwii @aprilisque @baekberrie @ashxxkook (let me know if you want to be added to this series taglist or fill this form to be part of the general taglist!)

© boba-beom ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

Chiaroscuro Portraiture (Connor Murphy x Artist!Reader)

Word Count: 3070

A/N: Okay so I attempted to get this done because I felt bad about not posting so uhh if this isn’t what you wanted, please tell me and I will fix it. I tried to kinda do like what McEwan does in Atonement because let’s be real that fluffy language is amazing. But uhh yeah again: I do take criticism if it’s not up to your standards, just let me know!

Trigger Warnings: uhh kissing, language, Zoe being angry, IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW

Taglist: @catatonic-kuragin 

Connor didn’t mean to take a shower at 1:30 in the morning. It just sort of happened. He didn’t mean to walk past Zoe’s room when the door was cracked, it just happened. And he definitely didn’t mean to eavesdrop on the events unfolding second by second. It just kinda happened.

Of course, the staying behind to continue to listen to the conversation was a conscious decision. He’d made himself comfortable, perfectly unseen in the hallway by you and Zoe, just outside the cracked door that emitted a sliver of light. You two had been doing this for years, since before eighth grade. God, was that right? You’d been best friends with Zoe for over 4 years? He shrugged the thought off as he lowered himself to the floor, choosing to sit—sitting wouldn’t attract attention, wouldn’t make any extra noise. It would swear him to secrecy, which is exactly what he wanted. While each sentence that left your lips was inaudible, Zoe was loud. She knew her entire house would be asleep, well, unless Connor himself didn’t feel like it. But she also knew that he wouldn’t walk over and tell her to shut up. Not with you here, at least. “Oh! I remember this!” she exclaimed, followed by bangs and crashes. “Your old sketchbook! I wanna see your progress! Show me!”

That’s right, that yellow book that was bound with little metal pieces. The special paper that never seemed to flap in the wind but could catch shading like nobody’s business. He could remember you sitting in biology at the large black tables, eyes squinted in concentration towards the back of the classroom where the windows were. He always assumed you were drawing the spidery veins of branches outside, noticing how with each passing cold day, they would get bleaker and bleaker, until he assumed you were drawing something that would look like broken glass on a page. But in the summer, at the beginning of the school year, the leaves canopied the trail that the track and cross-country assholes would take to “condition” for their meets. As the year would go on, the trail would be used less and less; around Halloween, it was always muddy, and then always covered in gross slush by the time Winter came along. He assumed you liked to draw in the footprints of the poor people who had to still use those trails after a particularly rainy day. He guessed it would make for a cool drawing, at the very least.

He could remember you doing that a lot, noticing in the fall light how your hair perfectly framed your face, the light hitting it in such a way that almost made you look more delicate than those glass figurines that his mom had collected when he and Zoe were babies. Your eyes would scrunch at the windows, getting that new twig barely notable by the passing eye, but everything to you. You must’ve drawn those same trees often—Connor didn’t usually pay attention to his classmates, but he could distinctly remember you sketching like that, day after day. That had to mean you did it often. So yeah, Zoe had a point; your art must’ve gotten better as the years went on and as you kept pulling it out to do a new study of some new art term Connor had never heard before.

Connor could also remember you in his house sometime over the summer, or was it last year, sketching something in the room. Zoe would always claim to be studying with you as he lazily made a sandwich after his hellish school day, and yet somehow still irritating Zoe. He could remember you trying to capture how the light just barely lit the room in a golden glow and attempting to get each curve and angle of the room just right. He assumed you used softer leaded pencils for the walls, giving it texture that it deserved. If Connor didn’t know any better, you’d be getting into some high class college for architecture, right angles so sharp you could swear it would prick your finger by just running it over the page.

And there was of course the library. You’d always sketch in the library. Sitting at the same table, you’d construct your artistry with nothing more than imagination, a pencil, and some special paper. He’d only been in there to get a book, any book, to convince someone that he was actually doing work and actually trying. Maybe do something for his mom for once, or perhaps himself. But you were there, carefully crafting your version of the bookstacks and cases around you. It was a solid 20 minutes of him looking before he could hear you uncap that special pen with the felt tip and black ink that could stain every piece of paper if you weren’t careful enough. The angles must have been perfect that time; pen is permanent. With another glance at the aisle Connor had been in, he spotted the book he needed: Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?. A nod to the librarian, and a quick glance back at you, he was off.

And then—

“Wait a second. Why are most of these done as portraiture? You hate drawing faces. And more importantly, why are they of Connor?!”

Connor misheard something. He had to have. When did you have the time, the effort, or even the means to draw him? Zoe was right, why draw him when he wasn’t anything special? Silence didn’t last long, Zoe’s demanding continuing.

“Some of these are dating like months, fuck, years ago?!”

He finally heard your voice through the cracked door as his eyes remained wide and trained onto one of the hardwood floorboards. “Zoe I can explain.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Zoe—”

“I’m serious, don’t go in depth about how much you adore my brother. I don’t want to hear it.”

Zoe bolted out of the room, completely missing Connor outside of her door as she did so. She stepped down the stairs quickly, stomping on every step as she did so, her steps almost percussive as her anger. The door nearly slammed in the draft that followed her speed, but Connor caught the white door with his foot, carefully making sure that it wouldn’t slam and actually wake up the whole house. With that same foot, he opens the door a little wider so he can actually peer in, curious about the sketches in question.

The only light that’s on is Zoe’s bedside lamp. There’s a soft glow around the room, similar to lighting a dozen candles and leaving them as the sun sets past twilight into dusk. The colorful clock against the pink shaded lamp says a harsh 2:06 AM. Had he really been out there for half an hour? His eyes shift to you, who is crumpled on Zoe’s bed. He doesn’t need to look closer to know, to understand that you’re upset. You’d just caused some kind of conflict between you and your best friend of however many years it’d been now. It probably looked like you betrayed Zoe, using her only to get to him. It’s at this moment that Connor decides to slowly step in, but is wary of the things that are on the ground.

Your sketchbook catches his eye, the beat up book open to a sketch of him, the shadows of his face darkened by a bold marker, the lights done by a hard leaded pencil. The date underneath the drawing is marked last week, showing off your progress beautifully. Connor can’t come up with any words at first. It’s…perfect, which sounded dumb to him. It perfectly took each aspect of Connor and threw it onto a page. If anyone looked at it, they would easily be able to tell exactly what Connor was like, exactly what his mannerisms were, and they would be able to easily distinguish one mood from another. It’s almost a brighter version of himself staring back at him, one who looks so confident but so lost. And Connor remained speechless, unsure of how to express his feelings.

Another minute went by before he actually said something: “Fuck, that’s really good.” A sniffle practically erupts from you before you look up at him. The two of you make eye contact, and in a swift attempt to grab the book, it ends up in Connor’s slender fingers. He begins thumbing through the pages, his eyes grazing over each and every line, every erased mark, every place you’d used pen instead of pencil, each shading variation, each curl you’d drawn; every single time you chose to draw him in a different light than he could’ve ever imagined. None of them were did in color, almost as if you were preserving the pages, as if you’d scan them in and color them digitally so you could get the blending just right. His eyes flew over dates as he kept turning, pupils dilating at each new sketch; the first drawing he’d seen was dated a little over a year and a half ago.

Then there’s one he can place; it must’ve been an exam day or something in biology because he could see the trees behind him, each branch perfectly placed, almost like someone had altered a photo rather than drawn it out. The leaves were somewhat there, the lush summer branches fading away into fall. But they’re there enough that Connor knows this was drawn at the beginning of the year—only some of the leaves are shaded in to show their differing colors. Purple was done in a dark grey, a softer lead, while green leaves were almost stark white, done in a harder leaded pencil. They were outlined beautifully by a pen, or perhaps many different pens.

Then it hits him—you didn’t care about the trees. You weren’t getting the perfect pitch of the ceilings in the kitchen that sat downstairs, memories burning onto the sketchbook’s pages. You weren’t trying to capture the world in a new light. You had been trying to get him in different shadings—a test in chiaroscuro. He had to hand it to you, each sketch was done artfully, completely taking each curve of his face and each line flowing directly into another, but in such a way you’d gotten every little thought that had ran through his head on that particular date. Connor’s heart started beating a little harder as his hands got a little sweaty, eyes still trained on one particular drawing and the way the pen swirled on the page. He licked his lips before speaking up again, not even bothering to tear his eyes away. “All of them are actually, really fucking good.”

He heard you shift forward, Zoe’s bed making that too familiar creak he usually heard from the other side of the wall. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he finally looked up and locked eyes with you. It was obvious you were upset—which was a dumb thought, Connor realized. Of course you were upset. Your best friend just stormed out of the room and down the stairs because you’d been artfully drawing wonderful images of her brother. Pink surrounded the color of your eyes, your waterline more prominent than Connor had ever seen before. It was his turn to study your face, each contour in the dull light of the stupid pink lamp Zoe had gotten when she had turned 13. Your facial features cracked, a smile finally escaping through the blurry clouds that had been drawn up around you. “I mean, I’m not an art critic or anything, but I love them.”

“Oh.” It was a suppression of something, Connor couldn’t tell what—your eyes flicked to the floorboards. “Thank you.”

He nodded before stepping forward, wire bounded notebook being extended out towards you. You took it gently, almost as if the moment would be ruined by sharp, abstract movements. There was a moment of nothing, your eyes meeting his again, before you started going through the drawings just as Connor had. No words were exchanged, they didn’t need to be, as he sat down on the bed next to you, admiring your hard work. He hadn’t gone through all of them, that much was apparent even in the darkness. Your style changed as the dates became more and more present, almost grabbing Connor in a new way that he couldn’t even fathom—when he was in a bad mood, the lines were sharp, almost making him look stuck in an abstract world that consumed him. You had started to include white pencil to highlight the lights of his face and the darks that seemed to surround him at any given point. There was one that Connor had been smiling, the stark contrast of grid to fluid making itself clear. White colored pencil littered that page, giving his cheeks and overall vibe almost a sunshine attitude. He wasn’t even sure how you’d done that, how you’d caught him smiling so long that you actually could draw it out. Your latest date appears, only two days ago before you start to close the book.

There’s a moment of nothing, completely dullness except the yellow that blanketed the room. With another beat, he looks up, a newfound fondness of you completely taking over, heart ablaze like someone had used your sketchbook as kindling for something—anything other than numbness. It’s now that Connor realizes he was leaning into you, getting closer and closer until this very second—faces inches apart and eyes scanning, searching, almost fleeing around memorizing each color of your eyes. The pink is almost gone, and you start to lean forwards, eyes not deciding what they want to look at: his eyes or his lips. The space is closing more and more, the process expedited as Connor begins to mirror your actions, the moonlight outside now seeming like the only thing that’s illuminating in the room. Before proceeding, he pulls away for a second, deciding that maybe he was just misreading cues from you. You could just be trying to get up to find Zoe, soon leaving the house and out of Connor’s life. But he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want this to end, he wants to know the curves of your face, the way you look when everything is geometric and scheduled and when everything is fluid and free, the white pencil contrasted with the black marker, each level of shading on your face. He wanted to know you at your lightest and darkest, when the leaves are lush to the leaves die and make the windows look cracked from the inside. It’s another moment until he finally gets the grip he needs, asking you “Can I kiss you?”

You nod eagerly, hands already snaking around the back of his neck and pulling him closer. He resists for a second, a mumbled “I need a verbal yes or no. Otherwise I worry that I crossed a boundary,” escaping him.

“Yes,” is exhaled from you onto Connor’s lips, giving him full access to everything he didn’t know he needed or fuck wanted until this moment. There’s a level of softness to the moment your lips grazed his, the laziness of the night consuming both of you. Relaxation seeps into the kiss as it deepens, providing a sense of warmth that could only be described as rosy cheeks and whipped cream. It’s here that Connor realizes that his heart had skipped a beat, the pink organ working in tandem with yours, blossoming into something spontaneous and wonderful with you. Connor’s hands glide from where they were to your face, almost capturing the light you’re giving him, an ability to feel like the sun is inside of his hands as the kiss deepens further. Everything is synched—a puzzle finally put together by warm light and soft touches. Something erupts in Connor and he can only hope the same from you, it’s a sense of fluff, a sense of complete and total comfort and security, almost as if someone had come in here and wrapped you and him in a blanket as silent snow fell outside. It was heated, like a warm shower after a night in the rain, but soft, sweet, something fluttering from inside into the outside. It was almost like this was something long awaited, and better than expected; far better than expected.

Footsteps stomped up the stairs, and the air turned cold, a firm reminder that the world could touch them. Connor already knew what it was—Zoe was coming back from making hot chocolate downstairs. The darkness of the room returned, almost blinding to Connor as he attempts to smoothly get out of the room before Zoe sees and gets even more upset. Purples plague the walls, steps coming louder and louder as he practically stumbles out of the room, hoping that his sister wasn’t looking up as she went upstairs. With a sharp glide out of the room and into the complete darkness of the void, Zoe slipped in and began to talk to you about something he couldn’t quite hear.

Shuffling down the hall so he isn’t heard, Connor recounts the events in his head. Maybe that had been a bad idea. Maybe the warmth around you two as you kissed was just something to dwell on but never have. Maybe it was better this way.

Fuck that. He slipped into bed, covering himself with the covers, still imagining your hands around him, circling him with warm light that rivaled sunlight at the end of the first warm day of spring after a harsh winter in the Northeast. He attempted to get that from his blankets, but couldn’t. He craved that moment now that he’d had a taste of it, every contradiction, line break, finally forming into a continuum, an image of your smiling self depicted by the lines that finally painted a beautiful picture of life. He needed everything you offered: the darks, the lights, the curves, the edges. Connor craved it as he rolled over, eyes closing for the night, the last image in his head of you artfully crafting him on the page before smiling at him in that way you always do. His heart skips a beat before falling into a smooth rhythm, breathing following the pattern as the world washed away in the golden light that consumed him.

[coltonthelizard]

D A D

[axillo]

Angel boy

[romaniandollar]

This started as a quick doodle I made in my sketchbook, but I liked it so much I inked and colored it. I’d been wanting to draw Connor in his casual outfit from @you-never-liked-this-sweater‘s latest fic, so here it is! 

I hope you like it! 

[cananybodysea]

Beautiful

Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader

Summary: You’re using Connor as the main focus of your art project. And you also happen to be in love with him.

Words: Around 4.5K (wtf)

Warnings: ehh… not much. fluff, awkward kissing scenes (terribly written by me), connor is insecure- stuff like that. probably swearing.

A/N: LISTEN B4 U READ. There’s really no plot here at all - it’s messy and shitty and badly written but i’m kinda proud of it. Sorry i’ve been so MIA! I hope you enjoy this and don’t hate me!

“Connor stay still.“

“I am still.”

“Connor.” You warn, glaring at him, pencil in your hand and your sketchbook draped across your lap, your drawing of him coming along quite nicely.

He rolls his eyes, scratching his nose and falling back into his previous position; sitting on the chair in front of you, his elbow resting on his thigh, mouth pursed in a straight line - with his chin resting in the palm of his hand.

“How much longer will this take?” He murmurs, trying to open his mouth as little as possible.

You take a quick glance at your work - most of its finished - his head is drawn, and his hair and his eyes and nose and lips - the only thing you need to do is work on the shading of it all. You need him to stay still so that the shadow doesn’t change - ultimately making it easier for you to get this finished but he continues to fidget and it’s just about driving you nuts.

You move a loose strand of hair away from your eyes and sigh. “Uh….Ten minutes- Tops. Just give me ten minutes of you sitting still and it will be done, okay?”

“Fine.”

From then on, the only sounds to be heard were the scratchings of the pencil against the rough paper of your sketchbook, and you humming lowly under your breath.

Art projects used to be the death of you - until now. Now, instead of the teacher telling you what you have to draw - you get to choose. Each student in the class was given a big enough, hard back sketchbook to fill by the end of the month with whatever you wanted which will go towards part of your final grade for the class.

“Use them however you like!” Mr McCarthy’s booming voice silencing everyone in the art room as a pile of sketchbooks landed on his desk with a slam.

“Try and use as many art mediums as possible. Pencils, paint, charcoal - I don’t care. Make sure to include a few photographs as well. Try to keep it neat and as creative as you possibly can.“

You decided that you didn’t want to sit in front of a lifeless fruit bowl for hours trying to capture it from different angels in attempt to make it look somewhat exciting, and you weren’t too fussed about going out to the park in the soaking wet rain to pick up a flower and try to draw it. So, you made the choice of focusing on different parts of the human body.

Originally, you’d planned on making one of your parents the main focus of your project - but then you remembered you had Connor. He’s a beautiful person - and he’d be beautiful to draw and you knew it would make things a lot simpler and less awkward if you had him.

So, after days of convincing, here he is, sitting dead still in a chair in your bedroom watching while your eyes dart between your sketchbook to his face and back.

With all the strength he can muster, he holds back a smile at the image of you sitting there with your tongue peeking out of the corner of your mouth in concentration.

“Almost done!” You say, dragging out your words.

“Fucking finally.” he smiles, relaxing slightly in the chair and regaining his normal slightly slouched over posture, his legs naturally spreading as he leans back in the chair.

You look up at him and grin, adjusting your position on your bed. “You can actually come sit down now,” you say, patting the empty space of your bed next to you. “All I have to do is finish shading your face and then i’ll be done.”

Connor nods, pushing himself off the chair and taking a seat onto the bed next to you, stealing a glance at the book in your hand. He notices that the skin on the back of your hand, your fingertips and the ends of your wrists are covered in grey smudges from the pencil. His eyes widen when he looks down and sees the drawing, finished - barr you still using the pencil to shade his face; making his cheekbones more prominent.

“Wow.” He huffs, leaning over your shoulder to take a closer look. It’s a drawing of his face, cutting off at his neck.

Everything is so perfectly accurate and shaded and it looks so realistic and you made him look…nice. He thinks so anyway.

The portrait of Connor is the main focus of the page, but it’s surrounded by two small photographs of him and some tiny patterns that you’ve doodled in the background out of boredom but actually fit in well with the drawing.

“That’s…..amazing.” he whispers. “Can I…” he trails off, his fingers coming in contact with the paper, silently asking if he can touch it.

“Yeah, sure. Be careful though - it might smudge.”

His fingers trace the paper, finding every line and following it with his digit like a game of connect the dots. You set down the pencil and watch as he stares intently at the drawing, then looks at the photos stuck down next to it, and then his head snaps in the direction of your mirror, and then back to the paper.

He pulls back, a smile lodged on his face. “Holy shit, that really looks like me.”

“Thank you,” You shrug, your stomach fluttering at his compliments. “I worked pretty hard on it.“

He nudges your shoulder and rolls the sleeves of his hoodie up. “I can tell.”

After a comfortable silence falls over the two of you, you stand up from your bed to collect your camera from your shelf. You pull it out of its bag and flip the switch on, the little ding and red light flickering from your device signalling that it’s working.

Connor watches, carefully closing your sketchbook and placing it back into your bag.

“Okay, next I want to get-”

”-There’s more?” Connor groans, throwing himself backwards in your bed and spreading his arms and legs out like a starfish.

Snorting, you put the camera strap around your neck and grab his hand, pulling him up.

“I already sat there for like, ever, so you could draw me - what else could you need me to do?” He comments, pouting.

“You sat there for fourty minutes, Murphy, which is not that long considering I could’ve taken at least three hours completing that sketch,” You quip, poking his shoulder and turning on your heel, motioning him to follow you whilst skimming through the photos on your camera.

He follows you down the stairs, through the living room and out the front door, listening as you talk.

“You’re like the centre of my project. You’re the main focus so I need to take photographs of you - of your hair, your face, your hands, your eyes - especially your eyes because they do that cool thing where the colours mix so I want to get some good shots of that-”

“-I think it’s called Heterochromia or something”

“Cool. I’ll walk you home but on the way we’re going to take some nice pictures, alright?”

He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, kicking a stone. “Why do you need so many pictures again?”

“Because I’m going to focus on parts of the human body, Connor. I told you this before I even made you part of the project.” you laugh.

“Right.”

You both walked next to eachother for a while, talking about what happened at school that day, about your parents, about his sister. You chatted about which teacher was the in the worst mood and what classes you skipped out on - you talked until you spotted a familiar field out of the corner of your eye; deciding that was the perfect place to take a few quick photos of Connor.

You said nothing, only laced your fingers with his and dragged him quickly towards the empty field, giggling as you did so.

Dark was approaching, the sky coated a dusty pink, the sun setting through the clouds, orange rays mixing with the pink sky and you could almost make out the tiniest of stars in the distance getting ready to take over the night sky. Your eyes were steady to the horizon as you dropped Connor’s hand, smiling as the evening breeze was flowing through your hair. You grasped your camera, pointing it towards the sunset, looking trough the lens and pressing on the button - making sure to capture this moment; even it it wasn’t for your sketchbook.

Connor stood next to you, twiddling with his thumbs.

“Oookay,” you said, lowering your camera and turning back to face him. “Now it’s your turn!”

He grins, a little uncertain and you pick up on his sudden insecurities.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“Nothing!” He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s just…are other people gonna, like, see these pictures and drawings of me?”

You pause, thinking for a moment while watching him shift a little awkwardly on his feet. “Well, nobody apart from me and you, obviously, and my teacher. ‘Cause he has to give me a grade. But no students will see them, if that’s what you’re wondering.“

“Okay, thank God.”

You smile reassuringly at him before taking a look around the field. It’s empty for the most part, a few daisies and dandelions scattered around the grass, standing on their last legs. There’s some trees, tall with thick branches, some of the leaves starting to fall off and turn from green to yellow. It’s not much - but you can make it work.

“Okay,” you begin, walking to find a spot of grass that isn’t so mucky. “I’m going to lie on the ground - And I want you to like, stand over me with your legs on either side of my hips okay?”

“Jesus fuck.” Connor mumbles, turning his nose up at you.

You only scoff, leaning down to pat the grass - testing if it’s damp or not before carefully sitting down, laughing as you look up at him. “Come on, just do it!”

“Why? Can’t you just take a photo of me next to that tree or something?”

You roll your eyes and tut, adjusting your lens to get it ready. “No, I wanna use the angle to make you look all….dramatic? And cool and… I don’t know, just let me do it?”

“Fine,” he grumbles, flicking his hair out of his eyes. You lie back, giggling as he places his legs on both sides of your waist, towering over you.

“Why are you laughing?” he says, looking down at you, holding back a giggle. “Do I look that stupid?”

You only shrug and then point your camera at him, closing one eye as you look through the lens, your finger hovering over the button at the top.

“Just look down at me, and smile, okay? But not too much - just a little…..That’s perfect! Stay like that!”

Click.

“Okay, this time I want you to keep your head down but look to the left okay? And just keep looking over there till I say stop.”

Click.

“Great! Now help me up.“

He grabs your hand and pulls you upright, smiling. “Are we done yet?” he asks.

“No - not yet,” you smirk when you see him rolling his eyes at you. “I want you to hold my hand.”

“What?”

You quickly grab his hand, intwining your fingers with his own and setting your thumb on his knuckles. You hold the camera with one hand and point it towards your joined hands - trying to get it into focus.

Click.

“Okay, let me take one of just your hands so that I can draw them next week or something” you mumble, pulling your hand out of his.

“Alright.”

Click.

“Thanks Connor.” You say, smiling at him before looking back down at your camera and flicking through the photos.

You smile as you look at the pictures, noticing a few freckles that you didn’t know existed on his cheeks. They’re only visible if you look close enough.

You pull him by the arm to bring him closer so he can see the photos too, but he’s only looking at you. The way you’re smiling down at the screen, and how the pink sky is reflecting off your face and how your eyes and nose are crinkling as your grin gets wider and wider. You’ve been staring at him with this sort of- twinkle - he wants to call it - in your eyes all night and it makes his heart pound much faster than it should and he has such an attraction to you and he can’t hold it back anymore.

Before you can register what’s going on, his hands are cupping your cheeks and then his lips are on yours. The camera slips out of your hands (thank god you had the strap around your neck) and your hands settle around his neck and you’re both kissing. And it’s wonderful. His lips are soft and gentle despite what anyone would expect - his hands are warm against your skin and his mouth is moving so well with yours and there’s fireworks exploding in your stomach and then it’s all over. As quickly as it started, it finished.

Connor pulls away quickly, his cheeks pink, his eyes wide. He shakes his head and shut his eyes tight, mumbling to himself.

“I have to go home.“ He says.

“What?- But Connor I-”

“-No…I’ll see you later.”

And then he ran. Straight out of your line of vision, all the way home.

The kiss was never mentioned again.

Charcoal.

It’s not your favourite. It’s messy, and it smudges too easily and it gets everywhere and sometimes the lines that you draw come out far too thick and it leaves black clumps all over your page.

You were supposed to draw his hands in charcoal today; because you’ve already focused on his face. You came over with all your materials, your pictures, your sketchbook - everything. But he’s sad. Which is okay.

“I don’t want to be drawn.“ He’d said, sitting on his bed, frowning.

You turned to him, paused your actions of digging through your bag and smiled softly at him.

“Can I ask why?”

“I just don’t. It takes too long and it’s boring just sitting here and I feel like shit today.” He mutters, fiddling with the material of his jeans, pulling at a loose thread.

“Okay,” you say, your stomach churning slightly at his change in behaviour. “It really won’t take that long because it’s pretty similar to pencils - And I’ll only be drawing your hands. Not your face or anything.”

He huffs out a long breath, subsequently blowing a loose strand of hair out of his eyes. He crosses his arms, narrow eyes staring down at the camera bag situated in your lap.

“Fine,” He mumbles. “But… First let me take some pictures of you- Then you can draw me or whatever.”

You quirk a brow at him, fiddling with your camera bag before shrugging and lifting the camera out of it, switching it on and handing it to him. He hums in contentment when he has the device, smiling down at it resting in his hands.

“Does that somewhat cheer you up, Murphy?”

“A little.”

He lifts the camera to his eye and points it at you - so you smile at him, shutting your eyes.

Click.

He takes a few more pictures; maybe three or four, and then shuts the camera off, handing it back over to you. He still looks upset about something - but you of all people know that it’s best not to push him when he’s like this.

“Connor?” You murmur, putting the camera back in its bag and setting it on the floor.

“What?”

“Can I braid your hair?”

“Excuse me?”

“Let me braid it! It’ll be pretty!”

His eyebrows furrow deeply as he looks at you, his mouth in a straight line. He shrugs before removing his hair tie and letting the long, wavy locks fall from his bun.

He situates himself to sit in between your legs, and you separate his hair into three strands, folding them over one another.

It’s silent while you do it. Connor’s once stiff body relaxes slightly, and he sighs deeply, shutting his eyes at the feeling of calmness.

“While I was drawing you the other week,” you mumble, your focus still on the strands of hair in your hands. “I noticed something.”

“Hmph?” He hums.

You chuckle quietly, tugging on his hair to make the braid tighter. “You have really nice cheekbones.”

“Oh,” he starts, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thanks”

“You’re welcome.”

Once you’re finished, you lean forward and take a hold of his hand, pulling the hair tie off of his wrist.

“Okay!” You say after securing his braid in the hair tie. “All done!”

Your breath gets caught in your throat when he turns to face you again. His hair is pulled back out of his face - with the exception of a few wispy curls that have fallen loose from the braid - and he’s staring at you and he has a little, tiny smile on his face and he looks so, so beautiful right now.

You’re quick to reach and grab your camera again, turn it on and look at him through the lens. He’s smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his dimples showing more than usual.

Your finger hovers over the button, but you don’t push it.

Lowering the camera, you keep your eyes on him, watching as his expression grows confused.

“What’s h-”

“-Connor you’re beautiful.” You blurt out.

“What?”

You grab his hand, playing with his fingers. “You are so beautiful, Connor.”

He’s at a loss for words, his eyes wide, his cheeks turning pinker by the second as he looks at you, mouth agape.

And then it happens. Again.

You can’t control yourself as you lean forward, your hand cupping his cheek. When your lips meet his, it’s like heaven. Your heart is pounding faster and faster as he kisses back immediately - not a second thought in his mind.

He pulls himself closer to you, his lips still connected with yours. It’s messy. Your noses are bumping against each other and your hands are everywhere and your breathing is uneven and your tongues are trying to find each other and it’s the best kiss you’ve ever experienced.

He pulls you forward, and your thighs end up on either side of his legs; but you keep hovering in the air above him because you’re far too distracted to sit down comfortably. He hums against your lips as your hands rest on his neck, your fingers softly rubbing the skin there.

"What- What are we- What are we doing?” He murmurs softly against your lips. You pull back, only slightly, your lips brushing lightly against his.

“I don’t know.” You whisper, giving him another quick peck.

And then, he grunts, his head falling to rest in the crook of your shoulder, his hot breath fanning your skin.

You were going to say it. There and then. You were going to kiss his cheek or whatever skin you could reach and you were going to whisper the three words as quietly as you could. But then you remember that this is Connor. And you know he’s your best friend but you’ve now kissed him twice and you’re not sure what you can even call this relationship you have with him anymore. And you’re much too young for all this and he doesn’t deal with emotions well and it might mess everything up; so, you keep your mouth shut and stand up, grabbing your backpack from his bedroom floor and hiking it over your shoulder, leaving his house without another word.

You didn’t get much drawing done.

And the kiss was never mentioned again.

To: Connor (3:00PM)

Can you come over?

From: Connor (3:02PM)

Why? We haven’t spoken in like a week

To: Connor (3:07PM)

I need to paint you. And take some pics and stuff for the sketchbook Also.. srry about not talking much. I kinda felt awkward after what happened?? i guess

From: Connor (3:10PM)

yeah same. it’s ok. i’ll let u paint me if u buy me a slushie :)

To: Connor (3:14PM)

ok, murphy. also - when you come over can you wear something nice?

From: Connor (3:15PM)

??

To: Connor (3:16PM)

Not that u don’t already wear nice clothes. but like something colourful. and bright :) before u ask i need u to wear bright colours cause i’m painting u in water colours and it needs to be eye catching n stuff

From: Connor (3:20PM)

can’t i just wear my navy sweater? it’s brighter than black

To: Connor (3:23PM)

connor >:(

From: Connor (3:25PM)

….fine i’ll see what i can find

Sure enough, half an hour later - he showed up in a light blue dress shirt, the top buttons undone with his hair shoved up in a messy bun.

"I want to die.” He mumbled as he entered your bedroom, dropping his water bottle to the floor.

“Hey! You look great.” You giggle.

“Where’d you even get that shirt?” You ask, patting the empty space next to you on your bed.

“Uh, I’ve had it since I was like fourteen. My dad bought me it….I think. Anyway - It was sitting wrinkled in my closet; I hope you’re happy I wore this for you.”

“I am!”

You love him.

You’re sure of it.

Through the process of painting him you’ve come to find that what you thought was just a desperate crush - is full blown, undeniable, unavoidable love.

He’s beautiful. So beautiful that it nearly hurts to look at him because when he smiles his eyes and nose crinkle, and he has the cutest ears and there seems to be a permanent pink dusting his cheeks and he’s got these big, gorgeous lips and on top of it all he has this big, ginormous heart and he is so beautiful without even realising it and you are definitely in love with him.

He’s sitting in front of you now, watching, waiting as the paintbrush rests in between your thumb and forefinger, ready to finish adding splashes of colour to your piece, stroke by stroke.

You shake your head and push the thoughts down as far as you can, trying to get them to leave your mind for just a moment while you finish this painting.

"So… How come you picked me to draw? Or use for your art… thingy…” Connor asks, careful not to move from his current position.

Your eyes remain on the page, following your paintbrush as it moves around the page, colouring in his eyes.

“Um, I don’t know. You’re my best friend and I didn’t wanna draw fruit bowls or flower pots like everyone else, ya know?”

He hums, his eyes glancing down to your book.

“Plus - You have super nice eyes cause they do that weird colour thing - and really beautiful cheekbones and your jawline could cut - So… Yeah.” You murmur, swirling the brush around in the pot of water next to you before dipping it back into the colour palette.

Connor smiles, a warm, fuzzy feeling takes over his body for a moment because you’re completing him and you said he has nice eyes and a nice face and if you said it then it must be true.

"You really think all that?” He asks. And his voice is so quiet you’re sure that if you weren’t sitting directly in front of him you would’ve missed that.

And you answer truthfully, like you always do.

“Of course I do, Connor.”

There’s silence. A beat passes where there’s nothing - no noise, no talking - only the sound of your paintbrush swirling around in the water cup and your breathing can be heard.

With one final stroke of the brush, you’re done.

You drop the small paintbrush into the pile of the other brushes that you used, and it lands with a plop.

You stare down at the book, smiling, because you’re so proud of this. You’ve painted him so well and the colours all blend perfectly and it looks a lot like him and you’ve never felt prouder of a painting than you do in this moment.

You turn to Connor, and hand him the sketchbook, carefully. He grins as he pulls it towards himself, staring down at the painting.

“Shit.” He whispers.

"Do you like i-”

“-Is this really how you see me?” He asks, his eyes meeting yours, with an expression on his face that you can’t read quite yet.

“Oh God, Is it that bad?” You ask, scrambling to grab the book out of his hand and chuck it aside, forgetting this whole art project and starting all over again because it’s awful- But you’re interrupted by Connor’s hand grabbing your wrist and stopping your actions.

“No- It’s just… Is that how you see me?” He repeats, gently setting your open sketchbook someplace else on the bed that you don’t see because you’re too busy looking into his eyes and…. are those… tears? Is he crying?

“Well…Yeah - I mean- Yes! Why? Is it bad?”

“No - It’s…..nice.”

“Nice?” You ask, watching as a small smile takes over his features.

“Yeah… You made me look nice. And happy and good and…Uh, -”

“-Beautiful?” You add, grabbing his hand and running your thumb across his knuckles.

“Yeah, beautiful.”

You smile gently at him, your other hand reaching up and cupping his face, your thumb running over the bags underneath his eyes.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, quietly, but just loud enough.

You lean forward and act before you think. You press a sweet kiss to his nose, and he bites down hard on his lip to control himself form bursting out of happiness.

“You’re welcome, beautiful.”

"Oh God,” He whines, pulling away from you and burying his face in his hands.

“What is it?”

He separates two of his fingers to peek at you, and you can see that he’s gone bright red and he’s giddy and he’s smiling and trying to hold back his giggles and it’s the best thing you think you’ve ever seen.

“I love when you call me that.” He mutters, his voice muffled behind his hands.

You don’t say much, only watch as his cheeks get redder and redder, basking in this side of Connor you’ve never, ever seen before. You gently pull him flush against you by the collar of his shirt, and place your lips on his.

And then he’s kissing you. Again. He’s kissed you once, then twice and now, the third time round you’ve realised you can’t get enough. The taste of his lips on yours, the softness of his skin, his hands all over you, the feeling of his hair between your fingers. It’s amazing.

Connor Murphy is beautiful.

And you’ll make sure he knows it - every, single day.

[flutegirl0422]

New Year’s Eve with Evan and Jared (DEH x Reader)

The year’s about to end, but I had some last minute headcanons to write. Wishing you all a safe and happy new year celebration and a great 2018!!!

Evan

- it’s a small affair, you invite Heidi and a Evan to come over and spend the evening with your family

- Evan’s kind of nervous since he’s only met your parents once before

- But you had all his favorite things set up to make him feel comfortable

- You found out from Heidi what all his favorite snacks were and the counter and fridge were STOCKED

- New Year’s Rockin’ Eve was a must watch

- Every other artist Evan asked “who is that?” because he barely listened to the radio

- (He preferred the classic rock station because it reminded him of his mom)

- You coached him on all the artists and even got him to dance with you once or twice

- He was used to staying up late since his anxiety made for some sleepless nights

- You, on the other hand, were tuckered out by 10:30

- Heidi made you the perfect cup of coffee to keep you up until the ball dropped

- Instead of kissing each other at midnight, you make a Heidi sandwich and each kiss her on the cheek

- Your parents set up the guest room so Heidi and Evan wouldn’t have to drive across town, but you ended up sleeping snuggled up with him on the couch

- In the morning Heidi made her signature hot cocoa and your mom made her world famous pancakes

- This convinced you and Evan that your lives would be much better if the Hansens just moved in with you, to which all the parents said a loud, resounding NO

- Doesn’t mean you didn’t each try to convince them the rest of the year xD

Jared

- Jared went upstate with the rest of his family while you went to the west coast with your during winter break

- The separation was killing you but that wasn’t gonna stop you both from celebrating the new year together

- You get a FaceTime call at 7pm while you’re eating dinner

- After declining the call you get a bunch of texts all at once

- “YOU DON’T LOVE ME ANYMORE IS THAT IT?”

- “😭😭😭😭😭”

- “Did you find some boy toy out there in Arizona? Are you hooking up with a cactus? 🌵🌵🌵”

- “srsly we had plans wtf”

- Eventually your parents excuse you from the table and you run to your room

- As soon as you call him back you’re apologizing profusely

- But no sooner than he says hi, his phone stolen by his younger nephews (I hc that he has a much older brother and sister)

- “Are you and Uncle Jared gonna get married?”

- “He was crying, he said you don’t love him anymore”

- He quickly grabbed the phone again and he was SO PINK in the face?

- “Kleinman, are you blushing? You’re gonna be hearing about that for the rest of the year.”

- And he did ;)

- He danced the night away with you in his hand, stopping only to recharge his phone for a little while

- You blew each other kisses at his midnight, causing oohs and ahs from his nephews and his mom

- He stayed up until 2am his time to kiss you at your midnight and to “hang out” with the rest of your family

- You fall asleep with the phone in your hand and wake up to a text that reads “can’t wait to spend the rest of the year with you ❤️”

- It’s followed by another text that says “don’t expect more like that, I’ve used up all my sappiness reserves for the year” and a string of weird bitmojis

[indigo-streaks-in-her-hair]

sketches [ cm x r ]

fandom : Dear Evan Hansen

by : Victoire

pairing : Connor Murphy x Reader

summary : In which you are a gifted artist & Connor just so happens to be your unsuspecting muse.

word count : 4,519

warnings : Swearing

a / n : Here we are! I’m beyond excited to be sharing my first fic with you. I’ve recently gotten into DEH & really explored the characters as people, so I do hope the way I write Connor is enough for you! I had my ups & downs while writing this, but the result did prove successful.

Oh, & make sure to see if you can catch a hidden If I Could Tell Her reference in the fic! *winky face* I would love you for the rest of my days if you all could leave a like or maybe reblog! Feedback & constructive criticism are always welcome.

Biting your lip in concentration, your eyes carefully studied the sharp but somehow soft lines of his face. He was sitting diagonally in front of you, with a perfect view of his profile.

Why would you be drawing the infamous Connor Murphy in the middle of a calculus class, you ask? Honestly, you didn’t even have a valid reason except for the fact that he was absolutely beautiful.

His was a unique kind of beauty, dark & harsh & in all ways mysterious, but at the same time there was a sort of lightness to it, fragile & delicate.

It puzzled you sometimes, but you were still drawn to the enigma that happened to be Connor Murphy.

As your pencil scribbled quietly on the paper of your sketchbook, Connor dropped his own. You watched intently as he bent to pick it up, strands of his light brown hair falling into his eyes.

He quickly tucked wisps of it behind his ears, turning back to his previous position. He must’ve felt your burning gaze on him, because he quirked his head in your direction, his clear blue eyes landing on you. A part of his right eye, aside from being blue, was a rich chocolate brown.

You immediately cast your gaze down at your binder, open, but with none of the notes written down. You felt your cheeks flush. Without a sound, you quietly snuck your sketchbook back into your desk.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could’ve swore Connor cocked his brow just in the slightest. He faced back forward, drumming his pencil against the desktop. You were sure he was aware of you now.

Silently cursing yourself, you hopelessly propped your elbow on your desk, your head cocked to the side as the teacher’s words came in one ear & left out the other.

If Connor Murphy kept being this beautiful, you were 100% sure you were going to fail high school.

“Y/N this has to be ‘Connor Murphy sketchbook #3’ by now,” Alana flipped through countless pages filled with drawings of him.

“This is only the second one, Lana,” you stabbed at your salad, ending the life of a poor cherry tomato.

“He almost caught me today, & I was utterly horrified.” You let your fork drop out of your fingers & sighed. “I’d be dead if he ever found out I’ve been sketching him since the beginning of the year.”

“Well, you would sound like a creepy stalker-”

“Thanks a lot, Alana.”

“But,” she emphasized, “these drawings are really really good, Y/N. You really capture something about Connor that others can’t see.”

You couldn’t help but shoot your friend a small smile. “I’m glad you like them.” As if on cue, you see the doors to the cafeteria open.

Connor walked in, his hair tousled as always, & his bag slung across his chest. Sure, he was tall & looked lanky at a first glance, but under the fabric of his shirt, you could make out evidence of the slightest bit of muscle in his arms & torso.

Alana noticed you staring. “Please stop gaping at him like he’s Zac Efron or something, for god’s sake,” She playfully slapped your arm, reeling you back into reality.

You shut your mouth, your eyes cleared of their daze. “Right, yeah. Sorry.” You bit your lip, trying not to glance up at him as he walked past you & Alana.

“I will, um,” you struggled, “throw away my salad.” You cast your friend a look as you got up & picked up your lunch tray.

“I have history next. I guess I’ll see you after school?” You asked her. Alana nodded, a small smirk on her face.

“Oh god, please don’t give me that look,” you said to her as you began to walk away, slinging your backpack over your shoulders.

“IT’S THE LOOK PEOPLE GIVE WHEN YOU WASTE PERFECTLY GOOD ARUGULA, Y/N.”

You couldn’t help but crack a smile. Turning, you shot her a salute before dumping your food in the trash & heading to your next class.

That night, Jared called you. At a very late time, to say the least.

You groaned as you hit the green ‘accept’ button. “What the fuck could you possibly want at three in the goddamn morning, Jared Kleinman?”

Jared chuckled over the line. “Welp, I can’t sleep. Actually, no. I have a project to do but I’m too much of a lazy ass to complete it so here I am calling you.”

“Can’t you just bother Evan instead of me?” you rubbed groggily at your eyes, yawning. “I’m serious, do you have a death wish or something? I’m way too tired to beat you up, but I will eventually.

“Come on, Y/N. I’m bored. Talk to me.”

“No.”

“Then I’ll just talk to you. Ooo, about those sketches of Connor-”

You sat bolt upright in your bed. “How the hell do you know about those?”

“Someone found a few tucked inside a desk today. Eventually, they made their way to Connor.”

You felt your heart stop.

“Oh my god-”

“But don���t worry, nobody knows it was you. Just Alana & I.”

No one was there, but you imagined the eyes of everyone at school on you as you blushed in embarrassment.

What would Connor say? What would he think of you? What if he found out? What would everyone say?

You were so close to being busted.

“Jared, I swear, if Connor ever finds out, I will be publicly shunned.” You ran a hand through your hair, tugging slightly at the strands. “Jesus Christ, what am I going-”

“Hey hey hey, don’t freak out. You are a pretty good artist by the way-”

“Not helping, Kleinman.”

“Um, your interpretation of the tall, dark, & brooding Mr. Sexy Murphy is very detailed-”

“That doesn’t help either.”

“You know what-”

“Ok. I’m going to back to sleep & going to try to impossibly ignore what you have just told me while it nags in the back of my mind like a parasite. Good night, Jared.”

You hung up the phone & let out an even bigger groan than the one you let or earlier. “Shit.” You muttered to yourself.

You fell back, stuffing your pillow in your face. You let out a loud groan-ish scream, absolutely dreading school the next morning.

“I’m ruined. Demolished. Destroyed. I will die.” You panicked at your locker with Evan, Jared, & Alana.

“If he finds out anything, he will hate me for the rest of my days.” You sighed, letting your back hit your locker door shut.

You held your English books in your hand, your palms sweaty.

“D-Don’t think of it as the end of the world, Y/N,” Evan nudged you with his cast, offering you one of his sweet smiles. “It’s not the worst that could happen.”

“Yeah, & besides-” Alana began,

“-he’s walking this way right now & looking at you,” Jared cut her off, glancing anxiously at someone coming down the hallway.

You didn’t have any time to react, because Connor Murphy came right past you, his eyes lingering on you for a few hopeless seconds before focusing in front of him.

“Oh my god, I think he knows.” you breathed out once he was gone.

And so, in the days that followed the discovery of the Connor sketches, you observed that he would look at you more often than ever before.

He’d sit near you in class & steal glances at you every now & then, his eyes on you for longer than what seemed normal.

If you weren’t covered in shame, you would kind of like the attention you were getting.

But under these circumstances, this was probably the worst that could happen.

You had held off any sort of drawing for at least two weeks, & that itch to pick up a pencil was bothering you like crazy.

So, one day, you managed to snatch a seat at the back of the classroom. Connor was nowhere to be seen, but it turns out he was only a few minutes late. 

The only spot available was one in the front row, one that was far away from you.

As soon as class started, you pulled out your sketchbook, drawing silently.

You kept it concealed under your textbook.

Your pencil sketched lines & bases, the shadows of his cheekbones & the curls of his hair falling into his face.

His eyes were your favorite part to draw, they seemed infinite, like you could get hopelessly lost inside them.

They reminded you on the ocean, seemingly bottomless & hauntingly beautiful, just like him.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you were trying desperately to get his jawline just right. If you erased some of the dark shadow you had-

“Miss Y/LN, may I ask why you are drawing in my class when you should be paying attention to the lecture?”

The sound of your teacher’s sharp voice made you jump. Your head snapped up, meeting the stares of everyone in the class, including Connor.

Your pencil dropped to the floor.

“I’m sorry, I was- I was just sketching something for art class.” You shut your sketchbook, your cheeks flushing pink.

You bent down to pick up your pencil.

“You better be sorry. One more time, & I’ll see you in detention, young lady.”

You nodded in understanding, the teacher turning back to the board.

Everyone turned around, the tension still thick in the air. You tried to ignore everything, your eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

When you opened them, Connor’s eyes were there, gazing at you with curiosity & interest.

You stared back.

It turns out you were right. You really could get lost in those eyes of his.

Alana had a meeting with one of her teachers during lunch, so you had to sit alone.

Once again, you poked tirelessly at your salad, taking the lives of a few more cherry tomatoes.

You had a book in your hand, reading to try to pass time.

You were trying your hardest not to sneak a glance Connor’s way; he was sitting just a few tables in front of you.

You ate in silence, looking up every now & then out of pure fear that he’d simply march up to you & call you out right in front of everyone.

You had such a hopeless crush on him that you didn’t even think it mattered anymore.

You gazed up as one of the school’s football players entered the cafeteria.

Jason was quarterback & just so happened to be a huge dick. He held a football in his hand like he always did, & you lowkey judged the guy for carrying one around everywhere.

But in his other hand was the exact thing you had been terrified of for weeks now.

He was holding your sketches. Your sketches of Connor Murphy.

You dropped your book, letting it fall to the floor with a loud thump. You felt your breath hitch in your throat, your pulse racing.

You couldn’t do anything but watch as Jason strutted his way over to Connor, sitting alone.

Fortunately for you, your sketches had gained some popularity. Everyone in school was dying to find out who was that much of dork to see something beautiful in that creepy kid Connor Murphy.

You bit the inside of your cheek as Connor finally noticed Jason standing in front of him, shooting the football player a small glare.

Moving fast, you retrieved your book & stuck your head in it, shoving your tray of food away from you.

The next time you looked up, Connor was there with the pages in his hands, a look of confusion on his face. His face softened as you saw his eyes scan over your drawings.

You were frozen.

Jason stood with his arms crossed, chuckling. He playfully slapped Connor’s back before walking away to his next class.

Connor’s brows furrowed in interest as he shifted the papers in his hands. You couldn’t begin to interpret the look on his face.

He would study each one for about five minutes, & you could tell he was puzzled at the fact that someone out there was drawing every single expression on his face.

You had to stare at him now. You couldn’t peel your eyes off the way he was looking at your sketches. If he ever-

And just like that day in calculus class, his eyes somehow found yours throughout the infinite crowd of students in the cafeteria.

They pierced yours with a sort of glint, as if he knew that all those sheets of paper were your doing.

You blinked suddenly, turning away from him & clamping your book shut. You slung your bag over your shoulder, picking up your lunch tray with it.

As quickly as you possibly could, you stormed out of the cafeteria, dumping your lunch tray.

Maybe you could afford to be ten minutes early to chemistry. Just anything to get that beautiful stare off of you.

Connor watched you as you rushed off, his eyes trailing to the sheets of paper in his hands.

These drawings were beautiful.

Beautiful couldn’t even seem to describe them as he noticed every detail that he failed to recognize.

But somehow you had.

The wispy curls of his hair & the slight dip in the bridge of his nose, the angled sharpness of his cheekbones & the curve of his mouth.

There had to be a possibility that Y/N had drawn these.

They were, evidently, the art teacher’s favorite student. They’d won multiple awards for their art, even.

Connor didn’t know what to say. He had never seen himself in the way they interpreted him.

It was like they drew his vulnerability, the boy under the dark & rough exterior.

Y/N drew the boy beneath the heated glares & the harsh persona. They drew the Connor underneath all the ugly parts; at least that’s how it was to him.

Somehow, Y/N Y/L/N  had drawn the real Connor Murphy.

And the corners of his lips curved into the smallest of smiles at the thought.

Shutting your locker with a loud slam, you made some of the other people around you jump.

Muttering a small “sorry”, you pushed past the crowds of students trying to get to class, your mind clouded.

Everything in your head was Connor, Connor, Connor. Sketches, sketches, sketches. I am fucked, I am fucked, I am fucked.

Anxiety played a horrible part in your life, & even the littlest things could set you on edge & make you worry even when you knew you shouldn’t.

They made your hands shake & your chest ache like hell.

You scolded yourself for being careless with those sheets of paper; you knew you had a habit of leaving things behind.

And if the entire school found out, you’d definitely be shunned.

And if Connor found out, you were sure he’d be creeped out & never notice your existence again.

With all these horrible results playing in your head, you completely zoned out, & were shot back into reality once you walked right into something hard, your books & binder crashing to the floor, papers spilling almost everywhere.

You cursed. “Shit, I’m so sor-” you muttered as you bent to retrieve your things, your hands flying everywhere before people could step on them.

“It’s fine.”

Before he could even get down to help you, you already knew it was him.

That husky, but somehow velvety voice of his echoed through your ears with a thrum.

You looked up, & were eye level with the one & only Connor Murphy. You were lost all over again.

What lasted a few mere seconds felt like minutes to the both of you. He was looking at you, trying to find something.

Without knowing why, you broke away from his gaze, moving to shuffle your papers in order. He helped you, getting on his knees & handing you over some chemistry homework.

“Um, thanks.” As you took them, your fingertips brushed his ever so slightly, & you felt a zing of electricity zap its way to your chest.

You got up slowly, shifting the weight of the backpack on your shoulders. Connor did the same, adjusting the strap on his messenger bag.

“Anytime.” he seemed to shrug, running a hand through his messy hair. You smiled shyly in response, turning to make your way to the class you were already late for.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” You heard him call after you.

Did he really just say that to you? You turned back, fiddling with the straps of your backpack.

“I, uh,” you stuttered, balancing on your heels, suddenly nervous. But then again, when were you not around him?

“Um, yeah.” You shot Connor another attempt at a smile. “I’ll see you around, Connor.” You raised your hand in a small wave, swallowing your anxiousness.

You turned & took a deep breath before making your way to class.

Jesus Christ, he really did just say that to you.

Connor swore once you were out of sight, cursing his social awkwardness. He didn’t want you to feel anxious around him, he really didn’t.

If anything, he wanted to get to know you. But you were probably onto him for knowing about him knowing about your sketches.

God, it was all so complicated.

For once in his sad & seemingly imperfect life, he liked someone. He wanted someone, & that someone was you.

His fascination with you started when you both entered high school in the same grade. He thought you were subtle, if that ever was a good quality. Connor liked the way you smiled & laughed & bit your lip whenever you tried to conceal your infectious grins.

He thought you were perfect, unlike him. He was always that creepy kid in the corner, with his messy hair & dark clothes. You were bright & radiated light, you spoke through your art in ways no one could.

Most of all, he thought you were real. You weren’t like most girls at your age, you were quieter & spent your time with a few close friends. You weren’t fake. You weren’t a wannabe.

You were perfectly content with being Y/N.

Y/N, who showed up to last year’s prom in beat up converse & spent the whole night alone with nothing but their pens & a sketchbook.

Y/N, who drew a mustache on the substitute teacher with a sharpie in junior year while he was sleeping.

Y/N, who in freshmen year received their first art award, beating out several seniors & a sophomore.

And Y/N, who had managed to fascinate Connor within the course of four whole years of high school. They were always quiet in class, their pencil scribbling either the notes on the board or spilling out their creativity onto paper.

Reaching into his back pocket, Connor pulled out the sketches he had folded up. From what he had seen; from seeing the way Y/N saw him, he was sure that sometimes the quietest people have the loudest minds.

You stuffed numerous textbooks into your locker, sighing as you tried to straighten them up in such a messy space. You stayed after school for an hour for tutoring. Apparently your grades in history were starting to drop, but so was your state of mind.

Brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you took a deep breath before shutting your locker. You thought the hallways had to be empty by now, save one person.

You jumped once you saw him there, right next to you, as if waiting for something. Your mouth couldn’t form words until the both of you spoke.

“Y/N.”

“Connor.”

You bit your lip as he looked at you; of course you had to be much shorter than him. His tall, lanky frame stood before you, & he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

He reached into his messenger bag, slipping out the inevitable.

Your sketches.

You could feel yourself gulp & your cheeks flush red.

“Someone gave these to me a few weeks ago. I was wondering if they were yours.” He said to you, his voice surprisingly soft. The look on his face was sympathetic, but understanding at the same time. He unfolded the sheets of paper, revealing multiple different views of his face.

One was a profile portrait, & you remember how hard you worked to get the angles of his jawline soft but sharp. Another was a front-facing one; you had drawn him with strands of his curly hair falling into his face, his lips slightly pursed.

That was the only sketch you managed to color, working with oil pastels until you got the blue in his eyes just right. Balancing the blue with the rich brown in his right eye also proved to be a challenge.

The sketches were slightly crumpled, evidence of them probably being passed around. The whole school had probably already seen all of these, which only made the flush on your cheeks darken.

“I,” you couldn’t make yourself say the words. You could feel your heart pounding, like it would explode out of your chest any second. Connor’s gaze never left you, even for a moment.

“Yeah, they’re mine.” You finally said, not wanting to look him in the eye. It would all be too much. “I’m really sorry if you think I’m strange or weird, or if I’m obse-” You started to go off, listing everything negative that Connor probably thought of you, feeling your gut twist.

But not before he stopped you.

“No, no, no. Not at all.” You stared up at him in disbelief. Connor noticed the look on your face, speaking again to expand on his statement. “I mean, I don’t think you’re weird. These sketches are…” He stopped for a moment, as if debating on what to say next.

You did nothing but listen, hoping he wouldn’t think you a fool.

“They’re just…” He looked at the sheets of paper in his hand, his eyes skimming over every detail. “They’re so good. Amazing, actually.”

You couldn’t help but furrow your brows in confusion. “But I, I just thought…”

“That I’d be mad?”

You looked up at him & nodded. “I thought you’d hate me, & that’s the least thing I’d ever want from you, & I’m sorry If I…” You trailed off, not even noticing you were backing away from him slowly.

“I’m sorry if me drawing you is uncomfortable or anything, because I can stop & leave you alone & we can pretend none of this shit ever happened-”

“Y/N.”

Suddenly, his hands were on your shoulders, your name being spoken with such clarity that you couldn’t even begin to describe. His eyes were closer than ever before, & you could see the flecks of green in the blue of his eyes & the rich gold & amber mixed with the chocolate brown color you adored so much.

Curls fell into his face, framing his cheekbones like a curtain frames a stage. You felt your breath hitch in your throat, the feeling of his hands gripping your shoulders something new altogether.

“I’ve never seen anything like what you draw. It’s remarkable, actually. I’ve just, I’ve never seen myself like, like the way you see me.” He let go of your shoulders, stepping back, & gesturing to the sketches in his hands. He handed them over to you, & once again, your fingertips brushed, sending current after current of electricity through you.

You stood breathless with your sketches in your hands. “When people think of me, they think dark & gloomy,” Connor stuffed his hands into his pockets, “they don’t think of me looking like, looking like an angel…” He shot you a shy smile.

You felt heat radiate to your cheeks. “Connor, I-”

“You draw me, Y/N. The real me. The one that all these losers fail to look for.” He gestured around the halls with his arms. He took a breath & sighed, bringing his arms to his sides.

“I have no fucking clue how you do it, but…” He looked at you, his eyes skimming over your face for any sign of emotion. “I just hope to god I’m not making you feel weird with all these compliments, I’m sorry…” He gazed down at his feet, toying with a strap on his bag.

“I like you, Connor.”

You spat it out in the midst of it all, not being able to keep it inside any longer. This was the reason why you drew him every day, 24/7. You couldn’t contain it.

His head snapped up at your words, his eyes immediately searching yours for a reason, an answer, or something.

“I draw you because I think you’re beautiful & perfect without a single flaw, & because there’s nobody else in this goddamn hellhole who’s like you, or acts like you, or mutters stupid protests against school in calculus class like you do. There’s never gonna be another Connor Murphy who tramples over the school hierarchy in those same lace up boots every day, & I can’t help but capture every single-”

And before you could finish, his lips were on yours.

You felt his hands on your face, the softness, yet roughness, of the way he had crashed into you, the pads of his thumbs brushing your cheeks. He surged forward like a wave in a vast ocean, overcoming you like a tsunami.

He had loomed over you, the curve of his mouth slanting to meet yours with a violent crash, & you tilted your head up to meet this wave head on. His lips were warm & soft against yours, moving with a rhythm, much like a current in the water.

You were kissing Connor Murphy.

His fingers tangled themselves into the strands of your hair, deepening your kiss. You were hopelessly drowning in him, your breath being stolen away every time his lips captured yours, pulling you deeper down from the surface.

You were being dragged away, but you didn’t care.

Before it could reach a climax, you pulled away from him, resurfacing with your heart still beating. His hands were still on your skin, his breathing ragged.

“Connor,” You whispered, breathless. “That was-”

“I’ve been wanting to do that since freshmen year.”

You chuckled at his words, your eyes meeting the ocean blue of his own. He let his hands drop, although he remained close to you.

“You’re remarkable.” You muttered, moving to tuck away a curl of hair that had fallen into his face. “I hate it.” There was a playful glint in your eye.

Connor simply smiled, the widest you had ever seen. “No,” he counteracted, “You & your sketches are remarkable.” Shyly, he took your hand.

“And I love it.”

[pastpatientlywaitingforimagines]

Words Fail (Hamilcast x Reader) Dear Evan Hansen Platonic Song Fic

WC: 940 (I meant to make this longer but this is what I came up with)

A/N: I’m trying something out here, so please bear with me. This is more of an artistic piece than anything, which is why there’s an abundance of run on sentences. I suggest listening to the song (Words Fail from DEH) while reading the fic. I’ve set it up so that I can write more parts, if that’s something people are interested in. I desperately hope this goes over as well as I want it to.

You stood in the center of the turntables, gazing out into the vast emptiness. Standing there, you knew the whole situation was so surreal, and the opportunity didn’t come to just anyone. That’s why it was such a big deal that it had come to you, just a little nobody in the middle of a big city.

You kept thinking about what had happened so recently, the consequences of a tremendous luxury that had been fueled by a lie. No, not a lie, you had to remind yourself. Just not the truth. The picture of Lin plagued your mind as you closed your eyes tightly. Your mentor, normally an unstoppable ball of bouncing genius energy, running a hand through his hair in frustration, his eyebrows furrowed as he thought and thought and thought. You wished you had something to say in that moment, anything. But there was nothing.

You hadn’t expected to become part of something so large. You didn’t deserve it, you had never had anything like it before. You had been standing next to a statue, reciting a monologue about freedom and justice and everything you stood for. That you were standing for now, in the middle of the Richard Rodgers.

Jasmine had been walking by that day that you stood plucking words from your memory, leaving an aftertaste, good and bad, to all that stopped and listened. Unlike most of the people walking by who just saw a grimy young activist, Jasmine saw the passion behind your words and the fire in your eyes. It was something that always amazed you about Jas. She always pointed out the subtleties of your character, things you yourself hadn’t even noticed.

Jasmine brought Anthony to see you speak, and the two of them dragged you off of your pedestal, bringing you to the theater with them. They kept saying things like “Lin will love you”, and “your spirit is exactly what we need.”

That first day, you met the rest of the cast and instantly clicked, so easily it felt cliche. They didn’t ask your background, or where you had come from, they just accepted you and took you in as their own.

You didn’t know if it was just his personality or because he actually was a father, but Chris assumed a paternal role in your life as Lin took you in and offered you a position as a political marketing agent of sorts. You would sit with Lin and Tommy and a few other people, working on campaign strategies, Chris would make sure you stayed out of trouble. After they all found out, he looked so disappointed in you.

In a similar way, Renee and Pippa became maternal figures that you didn’t even know you needed. They made sure you always had a place to stay and never overworked yourself. Your heart broke into a million pieces when Pippa asked you to leave the room where Lin was pacing and Chris was sighing deeply, Renee wringing her hands in the corner. You had screwed up big time, and they were going to have to deal with it.

You had taken their kindness for granted, which wasn’t a good explanation for what you had done. They didn’t deserve to deal with the burdens of your past or the decisions you had made while working for Lin, yet they were all huddled in Lin’s dressing room while you were standing on the stage, with nothing to say.

For a while, it felt like you were all family. You had never had a place to belong or a family to call your own, so when you were thrust into the middle of such a caring community you didn’t want them to know how screwed up you were in the first place. So you never told them where you were from or what you had been through. You pretended to be better than you were, than you saw yourself as. It was a win-win situation, in your opinion. The cast didn’t really see who you were, and you didn’t quite have to look at it either.

You had learned this was usually the best course of action when meeting people. Instead of showing them the loud, opinionated, headstrong person you really were, you lead with a calm, collected demeanor. It was a defense mechanism. People didn’t want to hang out with someone who argued every phrase, so you never let the cast see that side of you. Instead, you read the script over and over. You listened to the cast album over and over until you knew the words inside and out and then used those to your advantage.

You liked the show you were working with a lot, maybe because you identified with Hamilton a lot. Part of you wondered if they would like your rambunctious, spontaneous, argumentative side. Based on their reactions when they had found out you had been arrested, you realized that they wouldn’t, that they didn’t.

Standing there, in the middle of the Richard Rodgers, you realized that you needed to get out of their lives. You had caused more hurt than healing, as always. There was nothing left for you here. Wiping a tear from your eye, you made your way to the back of the theater and opened the door, blinking against the bright sun. As you stepped back out onto the street, you took a breath and prepared yourself for the harsh world in front of you.

With the theater behind you, you didn’t notice Lin, Pippa, Chris, and Renee entering stage right, looking to give you something you were unfamiliar with… forgiveness.

[tipsandreview-blog]

Top 5 Best Car Audio System 2017 | Car Sounds System 2017 For SUBSCRIPTION: http://goo.gl/3CEm3H Get AMAZON DISCOUNT PRICES here: 5) Pioneer DEH-150MP Car Audio System http://amzn.to/2sjYNuo 4) Kenwood KDC-168U Car Sounds System http://amzn.to/2sk7Xaw 3) Homder Car Audio System with Bluetooth http://amzn.to/2tnpMoL 2) BOSS Audio 508UAB Single Din http://amzn.to/2s4F1ir 1) Pioneer DEH-150MP Single DIN Car Audio System http://amzn.to/2sp7UoR ................................................................................................... PIONEER DEH-150MP CAR AUDIO SYSTEM: With music in many different formats, Pioneer DEH-150MP Car Audio System, a best car stereo only makes sense to have a CD receiver which can play them all. Take all your digital songs on the go copying them onto a CD-R or CD-RW disc in either WMA or MP3 formats. As these files are digitally encoded, you can see detailed track information like artist, song title, and album etc. Unleash the power of virtually any portable digital music player through the DEH-150MP car sounds system. This top car stereo offers a built-in, illuminated front AUX input so that you can easily bring entire music collection into the car connecting simply with a 3.5mm mini-jack stereo cable. Kenwood KDC-168U CAR SOUNDS SYSTEM: • CD receiver with AM/FM tuner, Built-in MOSFET amplifier, Detachable face with 13-digit LCD display and red button illumination • iPod/iPhone control, Pandora and iHeartRadio control with iPhone • USB port compatible with flash drives that contain MP3, WMA, WAV, and FLAC files. Drive Change lets you select audio from the memory cards or multiple flash drives in a Connected USB hub or Android device, memory card reader • Low-pass filter and subwoofer level control, Bass boost and loudness controls • iPhone/iPod direct control via USB input and no adapter necessary, but Kenwood's Optional cable lets you leave iPhone cable at home • Front-panel auxiliary input and USB port | 2-channel preamp outputs. • Compatible with the most factory steering wheel audio controls. English and Spanish menu settings HOMDER Car Audio System with Bluetooth: Compatible with Android and iPhone devices, Support SD Card,USB Charge and MP3 Players etc. Built-in Bluetooth + Microphone + Wireless remote control + Support hands-free calls + Bluetooth music playing. FM radio where you can store18 radio stations (frequency range: 87.5-107.90 MHz). 60 watts x 4.Operating voltage:12V DC to enjoy your favorite music! BOSS Audio 508UAB Single Din: Discover all the ways and get your vehicle rocking down the highway with BOSS Audio 508UAB car sounds system, a top car audio in the market. Groove to a favorite CD, hook up a smartphone or an MP3 player with the Auxiliary input or plug into the USB and SD ports so that you can listen to your own playlists. Also enjoy AM/FM radio stations for news, sports and music. Control of this best car sound system is at your fingertips with the wireless remote. Bluetooth technology lets you make calls hands-free and stream music. Pioneer DEH-150MP Single DIN Car Audio System: The DEH-150MP CD receiver, one of the top 5 best car audio system, is the entry-level model in the current line. The car audio features MP3 and WMA playback, front AUX input with Advanced Sound Retriever technology. The multi-segmented LCD display with LED backlight is absolutely 35 per cent larger than previous models that offers improved visibility and legibility. Customize your sound with 5-band graphic equalizer, subwoofer control and high-pass and low-pass filter settings. ................................................................................................. Related Query: Which Car Audio Brands are BEST? Which are NOT? CES 2016 - Best Car Audio Tech! and MORE Build the BEST Car Audio System - Full process explained 10 Best Car Stereos 2017 6 Best Android Car Stereos 2017 Top 5 Best Touch Screen Car Stereos of 2016 - 2017 Best Android Car Stereos for 2017 Top 5 Car Stereo touchscreen radios of 2016 What is the Best Car Stereo, System? Sony, Kenwood, Bestbuy Audio - Amplified #105 Best Double Din Head Unit Car Stereo Buy in 2017 Top 5 Car Stereo Receiver with Touch Screen| Best Car Stereo System 2017 Best Cheap Double Din Radio Buy in 2017 ................................................................................................... Top 5 Best Car Audio System 2017 | Car Sounds System 2017 https://youtu.be/tiyHl7OigAU

[romaniandollar]

I’m so thrilled that @you-never-liked-this-sweater actually wrote a fic based on my request! I loved it - thanks so much! 

So as thanks, I made a couple of drawings of Connor based on their latest fanfic, which you can find here. 

@you-never-liked-this-sweater, I hope you like these! <3

[tipsandreview-blog]

5 Best Car Stereos 2017 | Top 5 Best Touch Screen Car Stereos | Best Android Car Stereos For SUBSCRIPTION Please: http://goo.gl/3CEm3H Get AMAZON DISCOUNT PRICES here: 5) Pioneer DEH-150MP Car Audio CD MP3 Stereo Radio Player, Front Aux Input with JVC 6.5 Inch 2-WAY Car Audio Speaker http://amzn.to/2sjYNuo 4) Kenwood KDC-168U In-Dash 1-DIN CD Car Stereo Receiver with Front USB Input http://amzn.to/2sk7Xaw 3) Homder Car Stereo with Bluetooth In-Dash Single Din Car Radio, Car MP3 Player USB/SD/AUX/Wireless Remote Control http://amzn.to/2tnpMoL 2) BOSS Audio 508UAB Single Din, Bluetooth, CD/MP3/WMS/USB/SD AM/FM Car Stereo, Wireless Remote http://amzn.to/2s4F1ir 1) Pioneer DEH-150MP Single DIN Car Stereo With MP3 Playback http://amzn.to/2sp7UoR ................................................................................................................ 5) Pioneer DEH-150MP Car Audio:--- In-Dash AM/FM, MP3 Receiver with Remote, CD, Single-line, multi-segmented LCD display with LED backlight 2 Pair of CSJ620 6.5" 2-Way Coaxial Speakers and 300 Watts Peak Power/30 Watts RMS, Built-In MOSFET 50W x 4 Amplifier Included Remote Control, Anti-Dust Design, Detachable Face Security, FREE SHIPPING With music in many different formats, Pioneer DEH-150MP Car Audio, a best car stereo only makes sense to have a CD receiver which can play them all. Take all your digital songs on the go copying them onto a CD-R or CD-RW disc in either WMA or MP3 formats. As these files are digitally encoded, you can see detailed track information like artist, song title, and album etc. Unleash the power of virtually any portable digital music player through the DEH-150MP. This top car stereo offers a built-in, illuminated front AUX input so that you can easily bring entire music collection into the car connecting simply with a 3.5mm mini-jack stereo cable. 4) Kenwood KDC-168U In-Dash 1-DIN CD Car Stereo Receiver:-- • CD receiver with AM/FM tuner, Built-in MOSFET amplifier, Detachable face with 13-digit LCD display and red button illumination • iPod/iPhone control, Pandora and iHeartRadio control with iPhone • USB port compatible with flash drives that contain MP3, WMA, WAV, and FLAC files. Drive Change lets you select audio from the memory cards or multiple flash drives in a Connected USB hub or Android device, memory card reader • Low-pass filter and subwoofer level control, Bass boost and loudness controls • iPhone/iPod direct control via USB input and no adapter necessary, but Kenwood's Optional cable lets you leave iPhone cable at home • Front-panel auxiliary input and USB port | 2-channel preamp outputs. • Compatible with the most factory steering wheel audio controls. English and Spanish menu settings 3) Homder Car Stereo with Bluetooth:--- Compatible with Android and iPhone devices, Support SD Card,USB Charge and MP3 Players etc. Built-in Bluetooth + Microphone + Wireless remote control + Support hands-free calls + Bluetooth music playing. FM radio where you can store18 radio stations (frequency range: 87.5-107.90 MHz). 60 watts x 4.Operating voltage:12V DC to enjoy your favorite music! 2) BOSS Audio 508UAB Single Din:--- Discover all the ways and get your vehicle rocking down the highway with BOSS Audio 508UAB Single-DIN CD/MP3 Player a top car audio in the market. Groove to a favorite CD, hook up a smartphone or an MP3 player with the Auxiliary input or plug into the USB and SD ports so that you can listen to your own playlists. Also enjoy AM/FM radio stations for news, sports and music. Control of this best car sound system is at your fingertips with the wireless remote. Bluetooth technology lets you make calls hands-free and stream music. 1) Pioneer DEH-150MP Single DIN Car Stereo:---- The DEH-150MP CD receiver, one of the 5 best car stereos, is the entry-level model in the current line. The car audio features MP3 and WMA playback, front AUX input with Advanced Sound Retriever technology. The multi-segmented LCD display with LED backlight is absolutely 35 per cent larger than previous models that offers improved visibility and legibility. Customize your sound with 5-band graphic equalizer, subwoofer control and high-pass and low-pass filter settings. ............................................................. Related Query: 10 Best Car Stereos 2017 6 Best Android Car Stereos 2017 Top 5 Best Touch Screen Car Stereos of 2016 - 2017 Best Android Car Stereos for 2017 Top 5 Car Stereo touchscreen radios of 2016 What is the Best Car Stereo, System? Sony, Kenwood, Bestbuy Audio - Amplified #105 Best Double Din Head Unit Car Stereo Buy in 2017 Top 5 Car Stereo Receiver with Touch Screen| Best Car Stereo System 2017 Best Cheap Double Din Radio Buy in 2017 ............................................................ 5 Best Car Stereos 2017 | Top 5 Best Touch Screen Car Stereos | Best Android Car Stereos https://youtu.be/z5UKGaWIZ9s