#im being so cringe abt them its insane <33

[aezyrraeshh]

Daeran's hands tighten around her waist, bringing their bodies even closer, basking in the warmth of her. They've stopped swaying by this point, barely paying attention to the music either. The playful glint in his eyes is still there, shining even brighter when they drop to her lips. He can vividly imagine the taste of the wine they were drinking just a minute ago on them, intoxicating and tempting. It's an odd thing-- being under the adoring gaze of another, but neither of them feel trapped. In this moment, they are truly free: two ships sailing in the calm waters in the ocean of love.

template

[eijirousbestie]

YOUR ART MAJOR STORY WAS FIRE!! IM AN ART MAJOR AND WE HAD TO DO DETAILED PORTRAITS THIS MORNING AS AN ACTIVITY OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS AND ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT WAS YOUR STORY 😭😭😭😭 anyway i had the vision of Y/N doing a portrait of bakugou for her class ❤️❤️❤️❤️

AHH THANK YOU SM hearing someone thought abt my story in their day to day life is actually insane so thank you for reading!! Love to see a fellow art major around here🤝🏽I hope this story is to your liking i tried my best😭<33

“Can I draw you?”

this is kinda long (I got too into it lol)

pulling at the heartstrings a bit here

he’s a willing participant???

unorganized dishes

golden hour

* * *

Being an art student had its perks. For one thing you didn’t have “real” homework like other classes and you could spend majority of your time creating something new. In other cases, being an art student was dreadful, and today proved that to be true.

Walking into class and setting your bag down, you sit at your easel and scroll on your phone as your professor waits for other students to trickle in before he takes attendance. The sound of a chair scooting can be heard as your professor makes his presence known and calls role. He finishes and places his clipboard down, clapping his hands together with enthusiasm.

“Good morning guys! First things first, I just wanted to say you all did a great job at critique this past Tuesday. I was very impressed with the outcome of all your pieces. Now for those of you who have checked the class schedule, you’ll know we have our Portrait 1 assignment due at the end of next week. I’ll give further instructions and we’ll go ahead and get started on those today.” He grabs a stack of papers, assuming to be said detailed instructions for your next assignment. As soon as he hands you a copy, you skim through the premise of what you’re going to be doing.

Portrait 1 Assignment

1. Pick a subject you will be referencing to for your portrait. (No you cannot use a reference online. It has to be someone you can poke).

2. Arrange a time outside of class to meet with your subject to begin your sketch.

3. Pick a feature of your subject to enhance in your final drawing. You can add color, darken line weight or distort the feature you chose, but the rest of the portrait should be in the style of a sketch.

This drawing should be done on an 18x24 sheet of paper from your sketchbook and no smaller.

You internally cringe at the thought of having to snatch someone from campus to sit with you for hours just so you can draw them. You instantly begin to think of people you know who you can draw. You take your phone out and begin typing up a message to a friend of yours, asking when they’re free. Much to your dismay, they inform you that they have work directly after class all this week and won’t be able to help. You understand, but now you’ve got yourself stuck and you absolutely refuse to ask a stranger. For the remainder of the period, all you can do is mindlessly write a list of names and the pros and cons of their potential availability.

* * *

Sitting in the living room after getting back to the dorms, you rest after having no success trying to recruit anyone to be your reference. The dorms are practically empty as everyone is out doing something. Working, training, shopping. Everything you don’t do. Essentially losing hope for the day, you resort to lounging on the couch. Cozy pajamas nearly lulling you to sleep. However before you can slip into the best nap of your life, clanging from the kitchen startles you awake. Whispered curses soon follow, ultimately giving away who caused the noise. Getting up from your oh so comfy spot, you make your way to the kitchen to investigate. Peeking a head in the doorway, you see a rather frazzled Bakugou picking up pots and pans that had fallen to the floor.

Looking at his bent form, you speak up. “You aight?” He picks up the last pot and places it on the counter before responding, fully facing you.

“I’m good. My bad if I woke you.” You give a shrug and lean your hip on the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest.

“Nah you’re fine. Wasn’t fully knocked out anyway. What were you doing in here?”

“Reorganizing. For whatever reason, idiots around here can’t understand that stacking dishes causes shit to fall. Just proved my point too.” His eyes fall on the various pans on the counter he was in the process of arranging. You give a chuckle and move to help put them away.

“Say it louder for the people in the back.”

“Yeah well apparently they ‘don’t respond well to yelling.’ Whatever the fuck that means.” He nags as you both place each dish in their respective places.

“Gotta give em a glare or side eye to get the message across,” you joke.

“Shit only goes so far. But if looks could kill everybody here would be on their deathbed.”

“Jesus man, gruesome much?” You let out a heartier chuckle, actually entertained by his empty threats.

“S’called being self-aware.” He leans against the now empty counter and folds his arms across his chest. A silly thought crosses your mind. A glimpse of hope even. You decide to pursue it.

“Speaking of looks,” you start off tentatively, “I could really use yours if you’ll let me.”

He gives you a half-curious look, left eyebrow slightly raised as he side eyes you. “The hell’s that mean?”

You’re not sure whether it’s the desperation talking or the fact that you’re half asleep, but you immediately hit him with your dilemma.

“Well… can I draw you?” It seems like minutes that go by before he responds with a sharp click of his tongue.

“Lay off the drugs huh? Shit’s got you talkin outta your ass.”

“Bakugou please! I need a reference for an assignment and I’d really appreciate if you’d let me draw you. It won’t take long I swear I’m fast!” Your hands are clasped together as you ask for his cooperation.

“The hell’d you wanna draw me for? Plenty other people you could ask.”

You don’t have it in your heart to mention nobody else was available to help you. It’d be like blatantly telling him he was the last option and you don’t want to potentially upset him by saying that. It’s not necessarily true either, you just didn’t think he would be up for it in the first place so you didn’t want to bother him. He was your saving grace really, never the last option.

“Well you’ve got great eyes. And perfect eyebrows too. So it’s kinda hard not to want to draw you. But seriously, if you’ll let me, I’ll do my very best to capture the best parts of you. Please?” If you hadn’t known any better, you could’ve sworn you saw his hands clutch the counter in a death grip. He’s quiet for a moment. Two moments. Then he shakes his head in disbelief and his eyes sweep to look at anything else but you.

“Fine. Just don’t make me look like shit got me?” A light look of embarrassment covers his face. It’s endearing.

“I promise.” You smile a wide grin, relief relaxing your shoulders. “You mind if we get started tonight? I’m kinda behind as it is.”

He gives a nod and a hum in response. You tell him to stay put as you grab your sketchbook. He takes a seat on the couch and watches the slow sunset. It’s golden hour and the living room is filled with warm oranges and yellows as the sun is close to calling it a day. You come back, supplies in hand and before you can put your things down, you catch Bakugou as he gazes out of the window, the setting sun casting onto his face. With his hand propped under his chin, he looks ethereal. His red eyes now a vermilion as the rays reflect on them. It highlights his jawline, casting shadows that make the edges prominent. His hair aglow in the light, tufts of blonde now appearing marigold. You don’t realize how silly you must look staring at him until his eyes flicker to your frozen form. His gravelly voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Got your stuff?” He doesn’t move from his spot as he asks. You gather your bearings and nod.

“Yeah uh I got everything I need. We can start now if you’re ready?” You walk over to the couch where he sits, setting up your easel right in front of him.

“Mmh go ahead. Is there a certain way you wanna do this or?”

“No no what you’re doing now is fine. It’s actually better if you’re comfortable. We might be here a while, but let me know when you need a break.” He gives a nod of approval and you’re off, hands sketching and eyes darting back and forth between easel and subject. Soft scratching noises from graphite on paper filled the silence. By this point you were detailing the features of his hand holding up his face. Neat nail beds and cleanly trimmed. Bruised and scarred knuckles from countless hours of training. A strong neck that connected to an even stronger jaw, probably chiseled by the gods themselves.

You’d be lying to yourself if you thought drawing him would be a chore. It was actually enjoyable. There was no need for trivial conversation. Just you sitting there, drawing him as he let you. Him trusting you to capture his very being with only a pencil. It was a beautiful experience and you couldn’t be more grateful that you both were a part of it.