AN: Hello, and welcome to Man-Buns and Photorealism. I stumbled upon a post on tumblr of art major AUs and I couldn't help myself. Please enjoy this little one-shot.

I don't own Lord of the Rings. If I did, I could afford a car. and gas.

Where the hell would it be? Éowyn asked herself as she strode into the painting studio. She needed to use the paper cutter they had in there because someone was hogging the one in photography. All she wanted was to trim some of the border off of her photograph, was that too much to ask? Éowyn wandered through the studio, half looking for the paper cutter and half admiring the work of her peers. Sometimes she wished that she had gone the painting route. She would love to be able to do the kind of stuff that the painting kids did. And then she would remember her sculptures and her photos and that wish would vanish from her brain. She absolutely loved what she did and she wouldn't trade it for the world.

Éowyn rounded another corner and was surprised to see someone there. It was one of the two guys who actually painted, but she couldn't recall his name. He did have some very nice shoulders though, she had to admit. And a man-bun too? Good god. Snap out of it, Éowyn, pull yourself together! Paper cutter. Find the paper cutter. With a resolute nod, she quietly walked past Man-Bun, who was, surprisingly, undisturbed by her presence.

She found the paper cutter, finally, and was quick to trim off the pesky quarter inch on the top of her photograph. She decided that it couldn't hurt to take the scenic route back to the photography studio and by "scenic route" she meant walking past Man-Bun's little corner again. When she did, she took a moment to look at what he was painting.

It was a portrait - a very detailed portrait at that - of a young man sticking his tongue out in a playful expression. Tacked on the wall beside the canvas was a printed photograph of the same portrait - his reference photo. Above his reference photo, it seemed that Man-Bun had written a name - the subject's name, maybe? - Boromir. Éowyn continued to observe Man-Bun's corner while he painted, completely oblivious to her presence. She may or may not have been looking for a finished piece with a legible signature.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Man-Bun reaching for one of two mugs on his little table. The one on the right - a handmade mug, one of Legolas's, she thought - was clearly his coffee, and the one on the left, judging by the smell, was definitely his solvent. He grabbed the one on the left and brought it up to his lips to take a sip.

"Do you realize that that's your solvent?" Éowyn asked him, and he jumped about a mile at the sound of her voice, making her laugh a little. Man-Bun whirled around to look for who had spoken to him and looked a little dumbstruck at the sight of her.

"My what?" he asked.

"Your solvent," Éowyn repeated herself, giving him a little amused smile, "you were about to drink your solvent," she said, gently prying the mug - and this is definitely one of Merry's - out of his hands and setting it down on the table. Instead she grabbed the coffee mug and handed it to Man-Bun. "How about you drink the coffee instead? It's a little less toxic."

"I - uh - thanks," he said, taking the coffee from her and taking a sip. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I know your name."

"I'm Éowyn," said blonde introduced herself, "sculpture and photography. And I don't think I know your name either," she said, taking the opportunity as it presented itself.

"Faramir," Man-Bun said, still a little dazed, "painting and drawing."

"I can see that," Éowyn said, nodding to the portrait. "Who is it?"

Faramir smiled to himself before answering.

"My big brother, Boromir. I'm doing a series of odd portraits," he explained, "unconventional facial expressions and the like." Éowyn nodded.

"It's very realistic, props to you," she said. "Well, I need to get back to photography," she said, nodding towards the exit.

"I, uh, I'm actually looking for a model for my next painting. Would you, uh, maybe be interested?"

Éowyn smiled and ducked her head to hide the blush that had risen in her cheeks.

"I - um - yeah, I'd love to," she said, and they exchanged shy smiles. Éowyn, you need to stop looking at his eyes. Stop looking at his eyes. Stop looking at his damn blue- grey? Grey eyes? Are they blue or grey? God, Éowyn, not the time. Éowyn shook herself out of her daze and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She opened up a new contact and handed the smartphone over to Faramir.

"Here, put in your number," she told him. He made quick work of it and passed the phone back to Éowyn. After a split second of deliberation, she pulled up the camera app and snapped a picture of him and his man-bun to add to his contact.

"See you around, Faramir," she said, waving goodbye and making her exit.

Not even five minutes later, Faramir's phone buzzed in his pocket.

New Text From: Unknown Number

hey its éowyn! text me when u wanna take ur reference pictures :)

Faramir grinned at his phone screen. Whatever he'd been expecting when he got up that morning, it sure as hell hadn't expected to meet a pretty girl, get her number, and for her to agree to be his next model. And all because he nearly drank his solvent.

Thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know in a review!