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factual-fantasy · 10 months

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25 askskssss

@elegysonnet

I don't know anything about Geno so he's not currently in the AU. But if I gathered enough info maybe I could add him somehow. Like I did with Rosalina! :00

As for the Error Sans thing, I'm actually not personally a fan of all the crazy Sans AUs. Error Sans, Ink Sans, Dream Sans, Nightmare Sans, Fresh Sans, Geno Sans, Horror Sansss,,, uhg, I'm personally not a fan. So none of these world destroying Sans or other similar individuals exist in my Multiverse. So my squad doesn't have to worry about them <XD

My redesign plans for Kinger was just to give him a fluffier coat basically XD And I didn't have anything in mind for Jax..

Also thank you! :DD

@deadspooderman (I blocked out the art, I don't wanna be a reposter!)

I think I've watched a few episodes before but I don't remember them..

Although I can see myself liking that Sensei character. XD What's his name.. Sensei Wu..?

Thank you, I hope the same for you! :DD

As for Jevil, the poor guy's currently still awake at like 2 AM to keep the groups fire going.. :(

GASSPPP.. THEY CELEBRATE HIS BIRTHDAY??? RUNNING TO NETFLIX RN-

@milk-powrit

Right now the main difference that I made up is that Undertale humans are significantly more powerful than Deltarune Humans.

DR Humans and Monsters are the same in terms of strength. For example, Kris and Susie's soul are of the same value and strength. Because they're both Lighteners. They're one in the same.

Meanwhile in Undertale, Humans and Monsters are very different creatures. Determined UT Humans, even determined children have the power to rewrite time. Meanwhile I headcannond that DR humans, even if they had determination.. cannot rewrite time like Frisk can.

All of this is completely made up and doesn't really align with the games, I'm aware- its just some fun XDD

@octonauts16

Becuase I haven't felt like it XD

THANK YOU!!! :DDDD I'M GLAD YOU LIKE WHAT YOU SEE! :DDD

@beryl-shade

I feel like canon Seam definitely does. But my Seam and Jevil don't have stuffing. The two of them are very much organic creatures with flesh and blood.

Spamton is fleshy too kind'a.. Spamton is a living creature but maybe less fleshy and more... bone..y...?? They're all strange XDD

Thank you! I don't intend on drawing anything new for my Kirby AU.. but who knows, maybe I will someday? Or heck maybe if I can remember to, I could dig around for some of the doodles I already made for it? :0

Also its not a FNAF comic that I'm working on.. but thank you anyway! <XD

He's meant to sound like a pirate, soooo yesn't? <XD Also thank you!

Ah, that's my bad. I've unblocked her. But take note! Part of the reason why I probably blocked that person was also due to a lack of posts. You're on Tumblr man, you gotta reblog stuff!

Ah don't worry, I'm likely to get back around to Octonauts sometime soon :}}

Upon Googling them I think I recognize them! I like the green one XDD

WAIT!! WHAT IF THEY'RE LACTOSE INTOLERANT???

@2006-stupid-thatsme

oooo that's a good question.. uhhhhh.... currently? I'd say maybe its the FNAF AU I've got going on :000

By father I assume you mean Natquik? If so, Barnacles was never angry or resentful towards him. My version of Barnacles thought Natquik was dead, because he disappeared many years ago and no one had any idea where he went..

Barnacles was rather grief stricken over Natquik. He wondered for years what happened to his old mentor and friend..

When it turned out he was alive, and had just been stranded in the Antarctic all these years? It was heartbreaking. Barnacles was so happy to see him alive but also so saddened by the situation he had been in for so long.. Barnacles immediately set to have the Gup-I repaired and a solid radio connection between it and the Octopod to be established.

Later on when he formed the Octo-agents. I headcannond that the very first person Barnacles went to recruit was Natquik. Telling him all the benefits of being an Octo-Agent. And he would say things like "If something ever happens to you out here, we have the funds and the means to be out here in less than an hour. If you're ever hurt o-or sick? We can be here. We can help you. You'd never be alone again.."

Natquik took the offer partially because Barnacles would clearly be more at ease if he did. But also to have a secure connection to the outside world? And if that connection is ever lost, a team of capable individuals will immediately go and search for him? It was just too good to pass up.

@djadecutie

When I get back around to the comics it will be just like it was before. A comic probably split into 2-4 parts and uploaded when ever I'm able to finish them. 🤷‍♂️

Also thank you! :DD

@crimson-thinker

What's Foxy's grief stereotype/virus method? I'm not quite sure I understand the question so forgive me if I give the wrong answer.. But I'm thinking that means "what is Foxy's mental situation in the swap AU?" If that's the case, his mental state can be described in 1 sentence. "He refuses to move on."

Partial Swap Foxy was deeply effected by the loss of Freddy and Chica. So much so that he kind'a acts like.. they're still around.?

The other animatronics have cut out anything Freddy/Chica related in their lives. But for Foxy, the act of removing/avoiding everything Freddy/Chica related just makes the grief more painful. To him it feels like he's discarding their memory. Like doing that is saying they didn't matter or shouldn't be remembered. It just makes them feel more dead..

Foxy is the only animatronic that will go back to that old show stage. Sometimes in his darkest times he will talk to the stage. As if Freddy and Chica are still standing on it and can hear him..

When talking to Gregory, he is similar to Freddy. Acting all chipper and like nothing is wrong. Though if Freddy and Chica are mentioned.. he wouldn't avoid the subject like Freddy would. He would talk about them, even if it rips him up from the inside. He would answer all of Gregory's questions about them and tell him stories. Even if it brought him to tears and their memory was almost too painful to bear. Foxy refuses to let go of the past. And despite how painful it is, he keeps dragging the past around with him like a dead weight. Freddy does the same thing but as he drags the past around he refuses to look at it. If.. If that makes sense--

Basically- Freddy and Foxy are both stuck in the past. But Freddy refuses to acknowledge that he is. And Foxy openly acknowledges it, even if it kills him inside..

(Also note: The main obstacle that Foxy would pose to little Vanessa is that Foxy is faster than Bonnie. And as a Glamrock, Foxy is pretty tough. So if he finds out that Bonnie is hiding a child in his stomach hatch? Well.. he might just have the means necessary to catch Bonnie and rip her out.. :x )

For the second question! Partial swap Freddy is more openly miserable than Classic Bonnie, yes.. But he doesn't miss the singing and the spot light. He misses his friends and making kids happy.

Seeing how sad all his friends are.. seeing how messed up Foxy is.. how defeated Bonnie is.. that's what depresses him. That's what makes him cry..

Thank you! I'm so glad you like him! :DDD

I imagined that Freddy just threw the old clothes away. They were really dirty and torn and Gregory didn't care about them.

He probably took some trash out of a bin, put the clothes in and then put the trash on top. Effectively burying the clothes so that no one would see it.

AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! :DDDD✨💜💖✨

@ocinstituterep

1: ReBLOGS, are allowed. RePOSTS, are NOT allowed. 👌

2: My Glamrock Freddy is probably pretty depressed :( and his depression has had years to develop and get slowly worse. 7-10 on the depressing scale.

But partial swap Freddy? His life just came crashing down. So he may also be depressed now, but he hasn't had any time to really develop it. Probablyyyy a 4-10?

@dragon-fly34

I'm glad you like my AU! But sorry! I don't take requests and I don't personally support that ship.. <:/

#my response #fnaf security breach #octonauts above and beyond spoilers #octonauts #deltarune #undertale

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magical-awesome-kid · 1 year

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You know what? I think one of the many reasons I love the Rise Turtles so much is that they have such varried designs.

In past itinerations of the Turtles, they are always near carbon-copies of one another. Take off the weapons and colors, and you'd have the impossible time of telling them apart. I have auditory processing issues. When I was a kid, before I figured this out, I remember watching an episode of the 2003 turtles going to the future, where they lost all their weapons and gear. I had the HARDEST time differentiating between the turtles, having to pump up the volume and trying to differentiate Donnie from Leo from Raph from Mikey until they got their colored masks back.

The Rise Turtles? You could give me silhouettes, and I wouldn't hesitate to point to who is who. Even if we dressed them up the exact same - which they DID in one episode - the big spikey one is Raph. The tiny round one is Mikey. Leo and Donnie have pretty similar size and shapes, but Donnie is squarer and is almost never seen without his tech goggles. Even if we stripped them of all their gear, they're also unique in their body markings and designs. If you can't see Donnie's goggles and are color blind, you'd still be able to see the slider marks on Leo or the paintings on Mikey's plastron. From the back, each also has a unique shell - Raph's is spikey, Donnie has his Battle Shell or his more dotted surface, Leo has three loops on his back while Mikey has two. And, again, body markings.

Just... it's so easy to tell them apart from a visual aspect, and it makes me so happy to, like, be able to doodle them and not have to worry about color or weapons or drawing initials on their belts. Nope, just add some spots here, some squares here, some spikes here, and a few slashes here, and BAM! You have four unique characters!

#rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise michelangelo #rise leonardo #rise donatello #rise raphael #ROTTMNT

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endless-sketching · 9 months

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A concept that I wish I got around sooner, yeah Zenny is trans.

And I really hope I can give their story the time and thoughtfulness it deserves. (CW: Slight blood, shaving cuts)

At first the concept of working backwards for their design was really interesting since it was basically me going back to my old old Zenny designs for when they were just a guy I would use to insert myself into. Here is where Zenny and Emi looked a bit more similar with how they both have similar hair dangles on the side.

Then life happened and well, the previous concepts I had for Zenny being a femboy turned into being trans. Eventually I did a massive redesign so I can just doodle the simplified version of that little goblin as a clear distinction between me and Zenny

This was when I started to give Zenny more of an owl motif to their design

I eventually settled on this design before going more indepth with how much like an owl they should look since they looked a bit more like a moth than anything.

(Then I remembered how gravity worked on the cloak)

Then comes the more recent development with Zenny's design with the hair underhighlight.

Skipping ahead a bit this is the current design for Zenny that I still need to make a proper character sheet for since people can't tell that they straight up don't have a head.

CW: This is the part where I talk about really dysphoric shit like getting cuts while shaving and blood

Zenny and Luna are basically my first two OCs, so I wanted them to have some sort of interactions now that Luna and Robo Luna are separate characters.

At first it was a silly little love story similar to Pumpkin and Rosa's where they both don't feel like they deserve each other's love because of many reasons. For Zenny it's their gender dysphoria and how the version Zenny presents isn't the version they want Luna to love, and if I'm being real here I got nothing for Luna just yet, she could just be really hard time properly expressing her love and with how the story is set up to where she wouldn't be able to confess before the Hard Light Incident happened separating the two.

A few more ideas workshopping would help, right now I have it to where Luna and Zenny are childhood friends. Family stuff happened with Zenny and they didn't see each other through out middle school.

They would go to the same highschool together but couldn't see each other as often with how this was when Zenny started to discover that they were trans and how they're not in the same class as Luna in completely different friend groups. They cherish the times they are able to hang out together though.

Pre-HL Zenny was basically me subconsciously going back to older concepts I had for them and went about giving it a more subtle closeted trans change to it.

(Some reference points of Zenny's older designs)

A quick personal story, as I was shaving my legs I got a small cut because I didn't use warm water. Even though it was just small cuts, it just kept on bleeding. And it was just a really stinging reminder of my own body. Then I thought "Who would comfort Zenny in this scenario?" Which admittedly is a bit messed up that I thought of this before myself but Zenny is basically a part of me, all of my characters are parts of me.

So it was just really cathartic (I think that's how you use that word) to have Luna comfort Zenny as she visits their home.

I intent to base parts of this story from a lot of my own personal life, not down to the exact details mind you but down to the important stuff.

IdLS is a project that I want to use as an outlet for my own life, and if somehow in the future this project gets popular enough and gets theories speculating what's going to happen next in the story.

I hope people can respect my privacy and don't dig up my old personal stuff that floats around the web. It's wishful thinking seeing how the internet works, but hey it doesn't hurt to have this sentiment out there.

(Oh wow I hit the image limit)

#oc #sketch #doodle #art #idls:zenny #idls:luna #being trans is hard :(#idls #idlsconceptart #my art

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donpishya · 2 years

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Your sketchbook doodles of Jackson are so cute! (⋆ˆ ³ ˆ)♥ how could I not make a request? I also love that Jacksons face is longer with the non-chibi drawings like in real life. Randolph is cute with his little reactions too UwU (you know he was actually Thomas Jefferson's cousin?)

It's crazy to think that, from the age of 13, Jackson would never truly be at 100% health for some reason or another. That means he managed to do all his crazy feats WHILE INCAPACITATED. Makes you wonder what a full-health Jackson could've pulled off. (ง'̀-'́)ง

After reading the comments now I just really want to see an Inugami Jackson with a karusu-tengu Sam Houston

ଘ( ᐢ •ﻌ•ᐢ)づ ,,𓆩(•◇ • )𓆪,,

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oh and fyi since someone asked about the Triumvirate, Henry Clay and Jackson first met at Burrs trial where Clay served as Burrs lawyer. He defended Burr during the trial but after the trial he spoke to Jefferson and decided Burr was actually guilty. Jackson saw this and was disgusted at Clay's seemingly disloyal flip-flop. Their relationship never improved hence.

Jackson feared Clay would betray the country's interest for his own personal-gain. Regardless of whether this was the case or not, it's clear Clay had a hungry eye on the presidency. Even John Quincy Adams found himself disgusted with Clays poorly-veiled ambition (in political cartoons Henry Clay was always depicted as a raccoon). c:>⁐̤ᕐᐷ

Calhoun and Jackson had a fairly amicable relationship up until Jackson's presidency when Calhouns wife stirred up the Peggy Eaton affair. Basically the ladies of Washington were interfering with politics, not because they cared about any political issues, but because they were obsessed with the poor social standing of the Secretary of State John Eatons wife Peggy.

Pressured by their wives, Jacksons cabinet members wanted John Eaton removed, not because THEY thought of HIM poorly, but because their wives thought of Peggy poorly. Jackson was outraged, he had nothing against women being politically involved, but he had a big problem that petty DC social standing and slanderous gossip was taking priority in the eyes of his Cabinet over actual qualifications. Hence the name 'Kitchen Cabinet'

This is a point where I think Jackson made the wrong move pushing the issue and should've let someone else handle the matter. Not because his points were invalid, but because the matter was way too personal for him to approach objectively. Even Jacksons daughter tried to tell him he was going too far but he wouldn't listen.

You have to remember he lost his one true love to similar slander, gossip, and defamation right at the same time he became president, so his wounds were still fresh and bleeding. I think in his eyes he felt that if he successfully defended Peggy, in some way it would be a though he was successfully defending his wife.

It's thanks to Van Burens cunning diplomacy that the matter ended amicably and Jackson moved on to more important issues, albeit a destroyed between Calhoun and Jackson's relationship. Their relationship would further worsen during the nullification crisis.

Thank you!!🥰💕💕

I've heard that Randolph wrote a letter to Jackson suggesting "Greek Love" to him, so that's why I made him jealous.🤭 If it's true, I wish I could read that letter...

Sometimes I pay attention to the details to get them closer to the real person. I'm happy you noticed!☺️

I actually knew he was cousins with Jefferson! I believe John Marshall was his cousin as well, I like how two of his cousins didn't like him😂

Yeah, it always makes me sad reading his biography when I see any mentions of his poor health... I never thought about him being healthy before! Thinking about it now it would have been very scary if he was...😅

I would love to see them as those Yokai's too!🥺

Oh... I did know Clay was Burr's lawyer, but I didn't know he thought Burr was guilty after everything... I'm sure he did know Jefferson was doing shady stuff on that trial...

Oh, ok now that art is kinda scary. 😂

Oh, the petticoat affair! I really didn't like this problem...I thought it was very unnecessary... But I guess that's what it means to live in a high political class...😮‍💨

I really liked Jackson on this for defending Peggy. But I absolutely agree with you, it was too personal and he couldn't handle it well... But at the same time I really feel for Jackson...😢

And absolutely the nullification crisis made their relationship far worse than ever...

Thank you for telling me about Jackson's relationship with Clay and Calhoun!🙏🏾✨

I understand more why he said the words when talking about the two regrets he had after leaving office!

#質問 #john randolph #henry clay #john c calhoun #petticoat affair

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tommybaholland · 3 years

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Hello I saw your writing about relapsing with self harm and was wondering if you could do the same thing but with draken mitsuya and chifuyu from tokyo revengers please? Thank you

comforting their s/o over self-harm [pt.2]

featuring: draken, mitsuya and chifuyu

thank you for all the love on the haikyuu request. similar warnings here, please refer to that post if you are seeking help for any topics or themes depicted in this writing! keep going, you’re worth it :)

draken would have a sense of controlled rage upon finding out that you’re hurting yourself again. however, he makes the mature decision to put that away for now and be rather sympathetic about it towards you. he had to grow up very quickly without having any parents so he knows how tough life can be. sometimes he wonders how he was able to get through all of that and not suffer through mental pain like you’ve experienced. maybe he was just too weak to admit that he wasn’t always okay. he reminds you that you’re strong for feeling those cruel emotions and taking them head on. he doesn’t pretend that he knows what it’s like but instead wants to understand the struggles you face, especially so he can fight them for you. he couldn’t imagine what you did before he met you but he’s proud knowing that you pulled through back then. you’re living proof that the toughest people carry the heaviest hearts.

mitsuya finds himself becoming teary-eyed over seeing you in the state that he hoped he’d never see again. he may have a hard head at times but he has a soft heart and although he’s had his own struggles in life, he feels lucky to be alive. but it’s never been about him and he can’t go on knowing that you endure so much. it’s strange but he finds hope in helping you clean up the wounds, wrapping a bandage around your wrists. he tells you that you’ll heal from this just like you did the last and if it comes back then you’ll just continue to heal. he likes to draw little doodles on the gauze wrap if he can, making sure to put a heart right where you can see it. every day after that, until you’re fully healed and feeling better, he leaves kisses right on that spot so you’ll always remember that you matter and he’s there for you.

chifuyu feels helpless as the whole scene is painful for him to watch but he can’t imagine the hell that you’re going through. he could never forget the first time he found you hurting yourself, he felt like he was in a twilight zone. he didn’t handle it especially well and freaked out himself, not knowing what to do for a few moments. nevertheless, you both got through it once and this time he knows you both can do it again. he sees this as a chance to redeem himself as a supportive and loving partner as that’s what you motivate him to be. and not just because you’re hurting on the inside but you’ve always been someone that he wants to be perfect for, ever since the first day. he wipes away his tears so he’s able to carry you through this trying time.

for more comfort writing, lemme hear those ideas...

#tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #draken x reader #draken blurb #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya blurb #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu matsuno x reader #chifuyu blurb #request #requested #tommybaholland

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a-clowns-words · 3 years

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HEY ASH I CAME WITH THE FOOD Please give us wholesome tattoo artist Deku/feral flower shop owner Bakugou AU please please please your ideas are so good

YAYYY- you submitted a post pft but that's fine, this actually works pretty well

but wholesome goth boy x feral flower boy YES YES YES I LOVE THIS ALREADY, AU UNDER THE CUT

let's start off with izuku.

he owns a small (but very well known) tattoo parlor in the city he lives in. he majored in art in college and has been doodling since he was in middle school so he has notebooks just calk full of designs and sketches for tattoos that he tears pages from to put up around the shop.

the only design he doesn't have just aimlessly floating around is this one that's extremely important to him since he won an art contest with it in his freshman year of high school (it started him on his path to being an artist) and it's framed and hung on the wall behind the counter

the said design was a sort of couples pairing (meant to be put on the insides of one's wrist and a bit of their forearm and when two people pressed their wrists together side by side it would match up. it could be described as a very intricate and detailed drawing of two roses that branch off the same steam in the middle of the tattoo, and the steam wrapped around the two roses in a spiral that was covered with thorns and leaves but it never touched the two roses.

anyways, izuku never did that design on anyone no matter how many couples that'd ask if he'd do it. it was just his own sort of personal thing, and he was saving it to do it on himself and his soulmate (if he ever found them)

so that's that, people would come and they could choose any other of his original designs around the shop (or bring in their own) and he'd happily give it to them. though he dressed in dark clothes and had dozens of tattoos, making him look like a bit of a tough/mean person, he was actually one of the nicest shop owners in town. everyone was always so surprised when they heard him start rambling on about his designs then get embarrassed as he caught himself doing so, honestly, it was adorable and everyone thought so.

now, on to katsuki.

katsuki runs a flower shop right across the street from Izuku, he opened only a month ago (bc he just moved here) and it was already starting to get popular.

now, Katsuki wasn't exactly a k i n d shop owner. he wore soft pastel colors a lot but he was big and muscly and had clear tattoos on his neck and upper arms which made him look like a sort of- soft thug? but he was very much feral. he'd call his customers extras and often give regulars nicknames. such as one girl he nicknamed 'bubble gum' because she wore a lot of pink and had pink hair, she'd come to buy flowers for their girlfriend often.

even though he's mean, god does he have the most beautiful arrangements of flowers. so the people that live in the city look past all his grumpiness (some even find it kinda charming and manage to get to know him a bit better.)

plus, there's one specific thing that he has that almost no other plain flower shop sells. black roses.

no one exactly knows how he always gets his hands on them, due to the price and rarity, but he always somehow has a few carefully placed black as night roses in a vase on the counter.

how did the two meet/get together?

well, remember those black roses? a certain perky little goth boy happens to absolutely adore them. honestly he really just loves roses but the black ones draw him in due to them being well, goth.

so, izuku skips over to katsuki's shop every week or so and his visits are always in the morning right when the shop opens so izuku can open his right after. since he visits in the morning, he always has to deal with an even more grumpy morning katsuki, but he doesn't mind at all. he comes in, perky as ever, and cheerfully hops to the counter to order the same thing each time.

"One black rose please, Baka- Baku.. Kat-katchu- uh.. oh lord I'm so sorry, uhm.. oh! How bout Kacchan? Yeah! One black rose please, Kacchan!"

"...'Kacchan'?! Really?! Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

"I'm Midoriya! Izuku Midoriya, Heh!"

"If that's spelled how I'd guess it is, wouldn't it be kinda similar to 'useless'?"

"I uh- uhm, I suppose so..?"

"Let's see here.. useless little goth boy... hm..."

"Wha-"

"Oh I know. Deku."

"D-deku? You're really gonna call me that?"

"Yeah. Gotta problem with it, nerd?!"

"No!- No... I guess not-"

"Good, now take your rose and leave."

"A-alright... thanks... Kacchan!"

and that's that. izuku learns to get used to katsuki's teasing and nicknames, and katsuki decides to just ignore the fact that he's being called 'kacchan', such a petname like nickname, by a complete stranger

at one point, katsuki asked why izuku always came to get a new black rose every week and izuku simply gave an embarrassed laugh and explained that:

"well... i uh just really like these..! they're so pretty don't you think? plus I put the one I get every week into a vase of water and use it as a uh reference for tattoos..."

"and you need a new one every damn week?!"

"ahaha- well- i'm uh... not the best at flower keeping... plus they're much prettier fresh, you know?"

katsuki rolled his eyes at the explanation, truth be told izuku just didn't want to admit he wanted an excuse to come see the blond every week. though izuku wasn't alone, katsuki didn't say anything else because HE honestly also enjoyed the greenette coming to his shop

anyways I'm getting way too invested in this so let's wrap it up

katsuki and izuku get to know each other a bit better as they go to each other's shops. one time katsuki went to izuku's shop to get a back tattoo (that took fucking hours) so they had PLENTY of time to have an actual conversation for once and they actually had some pretty deep ones, it ended with katsuki begrudgingly pointing out the framed tattoo design, commenting on how pretty and detailed it was. of course, izuku went on a small flustered ramble about it before getting stopped by katsuki laughing and telling him to "calm down there, pretty boy." honestly just making izuku more flustered with katsuki finding it amusing as fuck. he ended up scribbling down his number quickly on a stray piece of paper to hand to izuku before heading out the shop with his classic smirk.

and shit happened yada yada yada got to know each other a bit more through text and izuku ended up asking katsuki out on a date at one point. so katsuki showed up at izuku apartment on the night of the date with a whole bouquet of black roses for his goth boy.

they decided to try a relationship and it ended up getting pretty serious. one day izuku dragged his boyfriend over to his shop and forced him to sit down so he could start working on getting his important design onto the two of them.

"Wait- really?! With me?! You sure, Deku..?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Now shut up and stay still so I can do this right, dummy-"

and that's where i'm ending it all so I don't kill you guys with reading PFT (I could go so much more in-depth tho)

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preciousthingsareprecious · 3 years

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Hearts Painted on Skin

Written for @damianwayneweek's Day 4. I selected Soulmates for this. I've never written a soulmate AU before, so this was fun to explore. Thanks @audreycritter for the idea! She flooded me with ideas for this week and I am so thankful for them all.

Characters: Damian and Dick

Summary: Damian has a mark just under his collarbone in the shape of a feather. Mother has always told him it was a scar. He was mostly okay with that until he came to Gotham and saw more marks. Marks that could not possibly be scars. He is starting to wonder if she lied, and why.

AO3 Link

Damian looked in the mirror, his shirt in his hands, prepared to pull on. For what felt like the thousandth time, he paused to look at the little mark on his skin. It was a feather, unmistakably. Damian had held enough up to it for comparison, whenever he could get his hands on one.

“It is a scar.” Mother’s voice echoed in his head.

It was a statement she’d told him time and time again. Each moment he brought it up. Every moment he looked at a League member who had a darker patch on their cheek, or wrist. Whenever his eyes lingered on flowers and swirls and shapes painted on fingers, arms, feet, and one time an eyelid. She would lean down, her voice soft, promising, full of truth, hard as law, and whisper those four words. It. Is. A. Scar.

“But others have similar.” Damian had asked once.

“Of course they do, they are fighters as well.” she had told him.

Damian believed her. Why would she lie? What reason had she to speak falsely about such a thing?

And yet.

He dropped half of the shirt to run his fingers over it, it was smooth as the skin underneath. It was skin, just of a darker color. A warm chocolate to his tan. It was not raised, not pinched. Nothing about it was creased or seemed to be anything but natural. As if it had always been there.

“But I do not remember getting it.” he had said again, in response to her once.

“You received it when you were young. A baby.”

He had furrowed his brow. Who would harm a baby? Even in the League? Especially Talia’s child? She’d never told him.

Damian tugged his shirt on, covering the spot with soft cotton and a bright pattern of animal silhouettes that somehow did not look childish. He ran his hand over the fabric, again pausing by the not-scar. His eyes flit to his dresser. In the drawer rested a bottle of concealer, matched to his skin tone exactly. It was empty now, used up and he had yet to replace it.

Normally, Damian would cover his not-scar with it. Careful layers blended to hide the fact that anything blemished his skin. It was a dangerous mark. Made when he was a baby, and carrying a weight on it that Mother insisted would draw catastrophe to him if it were seen.

He had complained about the concealer once, hating the time it took to apply and how it made his skin feel itchy sometimes.

Mother had run her fingers through his hair, gentle and loving, “I know, dear, but it is not safe to bring attention to. If others learned of it--you would be in danger.” She had even gone so far as to insist Damian not tell Grandfather.

It was a dangerous secret so terrifying the leader of the League of Assassins could not know. One Damian had to protect him from. At least, that was what Damian had thought then. Now, he wondered if Mother was protecting him from Grandfather.

He tugged on his shirt, testing the collar, even stretched it hid his mark with ease. No one would see it today. Perhaps his new concealer would arrive soon. Pennyworth had approved the order, as something useful to help them hide their identities better. Bruises from patrol were hard to explain, especially when Richard was under scrutiny for caring for him.

A knock immediately preceded, “Damian? You ready?”

Damian turned and nodded at Richard, “Yes, I believe I am.”

He looked over his brother, searching his skin for anything like Damian’s own mark, but beyond real scars, Richard was unblemished.

His brother, and guardian, smiled at him, “Great, let’s go! It’s a beautiful day and I promised you some ducks.”

Damian allowed a smile, “Yes you did.”

They spent the day at one of Gotham’s parks. Richard said they were doing recon to determine if Wayne Enterprise should fund a beautification project, but Damian was well aware his brother was using this as a day of relaxation. He was taking the day off work, and Damian had been excused from classwork for the outing.

He’d intended to take the recon seriously, by marking down elements both in favor of, and against selecting this park as the location for beautification funds. And for a little while Damian had. Then he’d flipped to a blank page in his notebook and started sketching the scene ahead of them.

Beside him, Richard lounged on their picnic blanket, reading what looked to be a romance book, and picking at grapes Pennyworth had packed for them. Normally, Damian would take the opportunity to berate him for laziness, but they had faced a number of difficult patrols over the past few nights and Damian was inclined to let him have his break.

Richard consistently drilled into him the importance of caring for one’s body all the time, mentally and physically. Damian knew this day would make Batman safer in the field, and also--he was kind of enjoying the quiet time. It was new to him, learning to relax and feel safe outside of the very few places he’d had at the League, but he could see the appeal to it. It did help keep him sharp, and he was always better rested after.

So he focused on on relaxing. He sketched for a while, drawing the pond first, and the trees around it. Then flipping the page to work on his figure drawing. As he drew, Damian’s eyes caught on marks. On birthmarks, and scars, and tattoos. Most importantly, his eyes locked onto various not-scars. Which is what they had to be.

He doodled them on another sheet. Drawing each unique one. Even those that were similar in style usually had little differences. A star might have one arm longer than the other, while one was perfect.

The only time he saw two of them match perfectly were on a couple pushing a stroller. The couple had little numbers on the back of their hands, one on their left, the other on the right. Damian pressed his lips together. They could have been tattoos, many people had them, but Damian couldn’t help but wonder.

He had been wondering since he’d arrived in Gotham months ago. People here all had marks. They had marks and they showed them off. Confused, Damian had messaged his mother to ask her. She’d said they were scars, tattoos, birthmarks that were meaningless. They were the marks of a different type of people than Damian had been raised around.

Distance had a way of stripping his mother’s voice of it’s old comforting truth.

But he had been busy learning. There was so much to learn in Gotham that had nothing to do with the mark on his body. Damian had spent more time frustrated about rules, and fearing he’d be sent back to a place that felt less and less like home every day. More and more time learning to be a good Robin to his Batman, and learning to trust Richard.

The question of his mark was rarely on Damian’s mind, and mostly relegated to moments he was alone or like this.

He glanced over at Richard. The man was still immersed in his book and Damian’s question died on his lips. He flipped his book to a new page and focused back on the pond, specifically the ducks swimming around on it. He had, after all, been promised some ducks.

That night they returned to patrol. Damian almost suggested they take a break, but they’d been working a drug trafficking case over the course of the week and were close to wrapping it up. If all went well during this patrol then they could rest. Damian would insist upon it if Richard did not.

They staked out an old appliance store. Richard figured the drugs were being shipped out either in the appliances or the crates. They just needed to intercept a shipment, incapacitate the team working on it, and confirm the drugs were there. Then they could call in Gordon and be done with all this.

Batman and Robin were crouched together. Richard had declared that they should stick close tonight. Damian wondered if it was because he knew they both were still feeling a little worn down. He could read it in Richard’s body language, and he knew his mentor could read the same in his.

After around twenty or so minutes, a truck pulled up to the building and the shipping door opened to allow it to back in. They watched for a moment, confirming no other trucks were on their way, and then both pulled back from the edge of the roof they’d been peering over.

Richard pointed to a large vent they could drop in on the store from. Damian nodded, and followed his mentor. The slipped into the vents, then moved like mice over to where the shipping area was located. Damian paused behind Richard as the man peered through an exhaust vent to watch the proceedings below.

“They’ve started unloading.” he whispered, then tapped something on his cowl and was silent for another long moment, “And they’re talking about the drugs.”

“So we go?” Damian asked.

“I’d say so.” Richard said, “Stick close tonight Robin, I’ve seen a couple guns swinging around and I don’t want to explain a bullet wound to Al tonight.”

“The same goes for you.” Damian responded.

“There’s twelve by my count, two of those are still in the car. Try to get to them first. I’ll grab the guys with the guns,” Richard directed.

“Affirmative.” Damian agreed. Taking out the ones that could remove the product, and the ones that were the most dangerous first was a good idea.

With that, Richard kicked out the vent, tossed a handful of gas pellets, and they dropped into the smoke.

Damian bolted through it for the truck. He was able to easily dodge the men and women in the room, now sent into a flurry of action and confusion over the smoke. He ducked around the driver’s seat of the truck and yanked the door open.

The man inside was shocked, and Damian was able to use that element of surprise to yank the man out of the front, sending him tumbling to the ground. A few quick blows had him unconscious.

Damian straightened, and turned back towards the truck cab. His eyes went wide, seeing the passenger leaning over both seats, a gun aimed out the door at him. Damian dodged to the side as the gun went off. Pain sliced through his arm as the bullet nicked him, but at least it hadn’t hit him in anything vital.

He swore, Richard had just told him not to get shot.

He snarled at the man, immediately returning fire with a batarang. It caught fingers, and the gun went tumbling to the floor of the cab. Damian then lurched forward, and dragged the passenger out of the car. Twisting his arm as he fell to drag it up behind his back.

In another movement, Damian grabbed the man’s other hand and yanked it behind his back, securing them both with a zip tie.

“Stay.” he growled into his ear, “Or you will regret it.”

He climbed up into the cab and jammed a pole under the steering wheel, locking it in place to keep it from moving if anyone tried to drive the truck.

With that, he turned back into the fray. At this point the smoke had begun to clear. Damian could see that Batman had knocked out a few men already, they were down to 8 enemies to fight. Richard’s warning to stay close was fresh in Damian’s mind, his throbbing arm a reminder that maybe his Batman had wanted him to not quite jump ahead like he had. But then again, Damian should have been able to handle two men in a truck.

He huffed, and fell into line beside Batman.

“Robin, you get the car under control?”

“It will not be going anywhere.” Damian confirmed.

“Good.” There was something tight in Richard’s voice Damian didn’t recognize, but there wasn’t time to explore the reason for that the other men and women were on them already.

Damian had to admit, he and Richard worked well as a team. They were efficient, and quick. Richard’s insistence on having them run drills and practice together before they’d ever gone out into the field had paid off early on, and since then they’d only built on that success.

They managed to take out the rest of the criminals quickly, and they prevented any of them from escaping. After that, Richard directed Damian to zip tie the unconscious thugs while he checked out the boxes of goods.

As Damian was finishing up with the last man, Richard called out, “Found them! I’m calling it in.”

“Good, I am finished here.”

They paired back up outside the building as Batman called the car to their location. Damian had his cape tugged over his arm in an attempt to hide the bleeding, but as they waited, a breeze caught him by surprise and tugged it up, and out of the way.

“Robin!” Batman said, “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been injured?”

Damian tugged his cape back in place, scowling, “You told me not to get shot.”

Then his eyes caught on Richard’s left arm, it too was visible and bleeding. Damian pointed at him, accusing.

“You as well! How could you not tell me you’d been injured?”

Richard opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, “I-For the same reason as you. It happened right at the start.”

That must have been why Damian hadn’t heard it, they’d been shot at roughly the same time.

His brother shook his head, “Amazing, we both managed to do the one thing we didn’t want to. Alf’s going to have a field day with this one.”

When they returned to the bunker Alfred directed them both to a shared cot.

“Shirts off young masters, I’ll need to dress both of those wounds.”

Damian rolled his eyes and started tugging off his vest, then undershirt. It wasn’t until it was off that he remembered he still had not covered up his mark. Hopefully they would lump it in with the other scars across his chest.

It was not to be however. Next to him, Richard had stilled. He was staring at Damian’s chest. Damian could feel it, his eyes locked on the feather just under his collarbone.

He froze, his spine stiffening. He didn’t know what to say. His mother’s excuses felt like lies on his tongue and he knew he couldn’t give them to Richard. The man wouldn’t believe him for a moment.

Richard’s gaze was strangely soft. Not angry or upset or any of the things Damian had come to expect from what someone might do when they saw his not-scar. It made him want to squirm in his seat, but he was Damian al Ghul-Wayne. He did not squirm.

“Damian--” Richard’s voice was terribly soft, his eyes glittering, “I had no idea.”

Damian swallowed, there it was. The sadness that he had thought might come. It was dangerous. Seeing it put people in danger, and Richard had seen it, and Damian--Damian did not want him in any kind of danger.

He reached up to put his hand over the mark, and looked down, “I am sorry--I forgot. Had I remembered I hadn’t covered it I would not have--I would have dressed my arm on my own.”

“Do you not want me to see it?” Richard sounded hurt.

Damian looked back up at him, surprised. Richard sounded like he did when Damian was particularly cruel. He tried not to be that way sometimes, but--well pain or frustration drove him to saying things he regretted.

“I--Mother told me no one was allowed to.” He pressed his palm against it a little tighter.

“Why?” Now Richard sounded confused.

Damian was confused. Shouldn’t he know? The way Mother spoke of it had made Damian believe it to be something that anyone would recognize. A black mark.

“It is dangerous.” Damian said simply, “Just seeing it would put myself and others in danger.”

Richard’s brow was furrowed. Behind him, Alfred cleared his throat.

“Master Damian, might I ask, do you know of soul marks?”

“What?” Damian asked, looking up at him, “No, I have never heard of the term.”

Something twisted in his stomach. Sour and warm. He was certain now Mother had lied. He didn’t know why she had lied, but it was making him sick. The warmth was a kind of hope. An answer to the questions plaguing him since he’d arrived.

“A soul mark is a mark each of us are born with. It is to help us find the person most suited for us in the world. Some people never meet their soulmates, but find love all the same but others do and their marks always match.”

Damian remembered the couple he’d seen in the park, their matching hands.

“So then--this is one of those? Not a scar?”

He let his hand drop, fingers grazing the feather.

“I can confirm that it is indeed a soul mark.” Alfred said.

Damian frowned at him, “Have you seen its match?”

Alfred smiled at him. Richard cleared his throat and Damian returned his attention to him. Understanding now blooming, Richard had thought he’d keep something like a soul mark from him. Had believed Damian wouldn’t want him to know something so personal. He must apologize.

Before he could get the words out, Richard had tugged his own shirt off and there, under his collar bone and just above his heart was a feather. It was the feather. Damian’s feather. The one he had seen every day in the mirror. The one he’d traced a hundred times wondering about.

“Oh.” Damian said.

And then, “I don’t understand. I--we would not be romantically compatible?”

Richard snorted, “Soulmates don’t have to be romantically involved, Dames. It can be totally platonic. Often best friends will have matching marks, or a father and son. It just means--well it means we fit together in a special way. That we’ll always be precious to each other.”

Damian could have told Richard that, and it seemed his body had already done the work for him. Or fate? Damian felt he may get a headache if he tried to figure this out.

The point was, Richard was the most important person in his life. He just--he’d had no idea that it had been declared before he’d even met the man. Before he even knew that they would get to the point where they’d trust each other with their lives. It felt right. Instead of a declaration these marks were a promise.

Richard had chosen to love Damian with his whole heart before even knowing who Damian would be to him. And Damian? Well Damian had done the same.

“I hate to break up this moment, but you are both still bleeding.” Alfred said, “You may continue to talk but I really must begin caring for your wounds.”

Damian blushed, “Yes, of course.”

Instead of talking, they fell into silence, both Damian and Richard lost in their own thoughts. Soon, Alfred was finished, and had dismissed both of them.

Damian looked from Richard to the elevator that would return them to the penthouse and back, “I still have questions.” he said, not wanting to be sent to bed with his mind still racing.

“Me too.” Richard said, “How about some cocoa? We can talk upstairs.”

“That sounds nice.”

They moved up to the penthouse, and Damian sat at the bar, his hands pressed into the marble countertop of it. They’d both dressed in pajamas, but even with a shirt tugged over his soul mark --and how nice it was to have a real word for it-- he still felt exposed. Raw. Like there was something new and strange about him.

But nothing had happened with it. It was still there, still the same color and size. Still just a part of him that he’d always had.

“So.” Richard said, taking the seat next to him, and sliding a mug of steaming hot chocolate over, “You have questions?”

“As do you.” Damian said, taking the mug to hold between his palms, “Why don’t you ask yours first?”

His brother hummed, “I think yours will probably answer mine, but let’s start with something easy or maybe not easy, but, well what do you know about soulmates or marks?”

Damian nodded, “I--Mother never explained soulmates to me. I know the term only in a general sense. A phrase used not literally, but figuratively to describe two people romantically entwined. None of my teachers spoke of it, and no one at the League did either.”

He tapped his mug, “I was not blind, I saw the marks. But I believed them to be other things. Scars, birthmarks, or--well I did not have a word for what they were.” Damian could not look at Richard, it was silly. He should have asked more, pressed Mother for answers or done his own research, “It was not until I arrived in Gotham that I saw so many and began to wonder. Surely not everyone in the world could have gotten tattoos? But--not all were visible and so I did not ask.”

Richard was quiet, listening and taking in Damian’s words with rapt attention. He hadn’t even sipped his cocoa. Damian took a gulp of his, just to do something that wasn’t watching his brother.

“And yours?” Richard asked, “What did Talia tell you about it?”

“I--Mother told me mine was dangerous.” Damian pressed his fingers to his chest again, “I was not to talk about it or ask about it. It was supposed to be a scar, from an attack on me when I was a baby. But I always knew it was not. Still, she was insistent I not tell anyone or let others see. Especially Grandfather.”

Damian frowned, “I thought for a long while it was to protect him. That I was cursed.”

He looked up at Richard, into his brother’s eyes, and knew at last why Mother had been so insistent he stay silent, “But I was wrong. Mother was protecting me, and you. If Grandfather knew I had a soulmate, he would have hunted the world for them, and then used them against me.”

Damian did not think he could have stood having Richard in danger because of him. He hated the very thought that anything would happen to his brother. Especially because of him.

He sipped his drink again, “Mother used to rub her wrist. I saw a mark there once. A little bat. I never asked her about it, and she never offered to tell me--Richard? Do the marks have special meaning? Or are they obscure?”

“They do have a meaning, there’s a lot of meaning in their placement and look and well everything.”

“Teach me?”

His brother smiled, “Of course. I’d be happy to.”

They worked their way through their mugs, and second rounds while Richard spoke. He talked about how soul marks that were hidden usually meant that the relationship was more intimate, but not always. How marks mirrored each other, one on the left, one on the right so that the pair could be face to face and match, like looking in a mirror. How if one’s soulmate died the mark faded to be almost invisible or if their relationship broke and shattered how it would line with cracks.

“Just because someone has a soulmate doesn’t mean that things will work out perfectly. We are human after all.” Richard said.

Some people could be born without marks, and very rarely one would change, and shift to take on the form of another. Most often that happened if a soulmate had died, but sometimes it happened for other reasons.

“And the meaning?” Damian pressed, wanting to know, to understand why a feather? Why this mark on his skin and not something else?

His brother hummed, “There’s books and stuff out on their meanings, especially for marks of similar styles. But when it all comes down to it, the meaning really comes from the pair. Some people know instantly why a mark looks the way it does. A shared memory or love of something. Maybe it is the first line a lover traced across another’s wrist, or an idea that is important to them.”

He leaned forward, elbow on the bar’s counter, “Want to take a guess at ours?”

Damian furrowed his brow, “Robin?” he guessed, “or your previous title, Nightwing is indicative of a bird and flight?”

Richard nodded, “Those are good thoughts. I’ve always looked at it as a symbol of flying and of freedom. But feathers have other meanings too. Trust, loyalty, hope, a connection between the creature who had the feather and where it has gone now.”

“I like those.” Damian said, and then looked down at his mug, “You have given me many of those things.”

“And you’ve done the same for me.” Richard said, “We don’t need to name why it is a feather you know. We can feel the meaning here.” he pressed a palm to his heart, “and just know.”

Damian nodded, “I am glad I share it with you. And--I am glad I did not know before now.”

His brother frowned, then nodded, “I see, if you did, and we’d have seen each other’s marks, then you might have thought our relationship was because of the soul mark?”

“Is that silly?” he said, peering up.

“No. It’s a worry a lot of people have.” Richard reached out and took Damian’s free hand, “But soul marks don’t make relationships Damian. They just indicate potential, and while they are incredibly accurate in that indication, it’s up to us what we do with it.”

Damian squeezed Richard’s hand, “I see. We are--doing well?”

Richard laughed, “I’d say so. We had a rough start, but yes, Dames. I think we’re doing just fine.”

Damian smiled, “Excellent. Thank you for answering my questions.”

“Of course.” His brother stretched, “Now, it’s later than either of us should be up. We can chat more tomorrow.”

“Yes.” Damian said.

They got up, rinsed their cups and moved to the hall with the bedrooms. Damian paused, hesitating before he entered his own.

“I was planning to suggest we take the night off patrol, but our injuries have cemented that. Perhaps we can return to the park tomorrow?” he said.

Richard smiled, “Sounds like a plan.” In a motion he tugged Damian forward into a tight hug and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “Love you, kiddo.”

Damian returned the hug, “You as well.”

#damianwayneweek2021 #Damian Wayne #Dick Grayson #day 4 #soulmates #platonic soulmates #soul marks #fluff #canon typical violence #hurt/comfort #injury #precious posts #fanficiton

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kuiperblog · 3 years

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The first 1% is always the hardest

Usually, the hardest part of acquiring a new skill is starting it for the first time.

When you’re at an intermediate level of progression, you can usually just increase your skill level by incrementing up the difficulty linearly. If you’re a novice weightlifter and your best overhead press is 125 lbs, try adding 5 lbs to the bar and see if you can overhead press 130 lbs. (If not, keep lifting 125 lbs every few days until that becomes “easy,” then challenge yourself with 130 lbs again.) If you can do 10 push-ups, you will probably reach the point where you can do 11 push-ups, and 12 push-ups, and 15 push-ups, and 25 push-ups, and so on. The hardest part of lifting is day 1, when you might be performing certain motions for the first time in your life, and challenging your body to work muscles that you didn’t even realize existed.

I imagine the same is true of other fitness regimens: once you’re able to run a 9 minute mile, you probably have what it takes to run a 8:30 mile, or a 8 minute mile, if you keep at it. Eventually you’ll hit a plateau and the limits of human performance, but the first day in the gym is always the hardest.

This is sort of how the trajectory of my writing career went. And having talked to artist friends, and musicians, it seems like all of them followed a similar trend: they found a thing, they stuck with it, and over time found themselves advancing along that path bit by bit. It became a hobby or a routine such that over time, by by investing a bit more time, or a bit more effort, or challenging themselves a tiny bit more, they got better at it. And over years, the compounding returns of that meant that the girl who got a drawing tablet at age 14 found that by the time she was 22 years old, she had enough artistic skill to make enough money from her art to make a living.

I think that in a lot of cases, people were able to start down that path of gradual self-improvement in part because they were able to somehow bypass the hardest part of it -- they blazed right through the initial difficulty without even realizing it. They couldn’t even really answer the question of “When did you start drawing,” because they’ve always been drawing since the days that they were just doodling with pencil in paper at school. Maybe they just really enjoyed playing outdoors as a kid, and played soccer because it was fun, and made the seamless transition to being a high school athlete. In my case, I spent a lot of time writing long-winded forum posts explaining the finer points of topics I was passionate about (which, at age 13, was mostly Pokemon and Final Fantasy), and somehow by my 20′s I had enough of a penchant for explaining things that I was able to parley that into a writing career (so I can get paid for my long-winded explanations of Pokemon-related topics).

The early days of learning to write kind of sucked and were difficult. (For starters, remember how unintuitive that QWERTY keyboard was the first time that you learned to type? Remember how painful it was to hunt-and-peck your way through sentences at an effective rate of <10 words per minute?) But my desire to talk about Pokemon on message boards overwhelmed any difficulty or “suckiness” involved with learning to express my ideas through text, and so the suckiness of those early days wasn’t really much of an obstacle.

More and more, I’ve come to believe that the most important part of learning a new skill is finding a way to get over that initial difficulty hump -- of finding a way to survive the first day, and then the first week, and then the first month, and eventually reach a point where inertia carries you forward on a gradual upward slope of self-improvement where you’re not even consciously thinking too hard about improvement; you just randomly muse to yourself one day, “Oh yeah, this barbell I’m picking up weighs about 100 lbs more than the barbell I was lifting a year ago. Fancy that.” The longer you keep at it, the easier it is to stick with it.

In many corners of the internet, there’s an oft-repeated adage that “Watching anime won’t teach you to speak or understand Japanese.” And sure, that’s obviously true on some level. If someone is thinking they’re going to spend a thousand hours watching subtitled anime, and then one day flip off the subtitles and be able to follow everything without missing a beat, they’re probably a bit delusional. If you want to actually achieve anything approaching Japanese fluency, you’re probably going to have to take a Japanese learning course, and engaged in spaced repetition to pick up and retain vocabulary, and all of the other stuff that goes into learning any language.

But I think that watching anime does provide you with one big advantage: it goes a long way toward helping you cross that “day 1″ hump. Because the first day is always the hardest. Going from 0 to 1 is harder than increasing your vocabulary by a few new words every week. Before you can get the compounding returns from incrementally improving at a skill, you have to have a starting principle. And I think that watching anime is actually quite good for that, because only knowing “weeaboo Japanese” will give you 20-30% of the vocabulary that’s included in your first couple Japanese lessons.

I’m speaking from personal experience: it’s incredibly heartening to go through a lesson and encounter words that I’m already familiar with. Even if my fluency in “weeaboo Japanese” only covers 10% of what’s introduced in a given lesson, having a head start gives me an intangible confidence boost which makes it easier for me to focus on and retain the other 90%.

I don’t want to understate the importance of that intangible confidence boost: a lot of language acquisition is getting comfortable with a language, and repeating something so much that you do it without even thinking about it. For example, in English, sometimes sometimes someone might ask you “how’s it going?” and you might answer “fine” before your brain has even consciously registered the meaning of what you were hearing, or saying. And I’m enough of a weeb that I can hear i tenki desu ne and immediately reflexively respond with sou desu ne, before my brain has even consciously registered the question being asked (sometimes taking several seconds to mentally backtrack and realize, “Oh right, the “i tenki” part means “nice weather.”). But years and years of listening and pattern recognition have taught me that when someone ends a sentence in desu ne? with the sort of inflection that says “I’m asking you a rhetorical question,” the proper response is probably sou desu ne, and my brain produces that response just as reflexively as it spits out “I’m doing fine, how about you?” any time someone asks “How’s it going?”)

One thing I’ve come to notice is that every lesson begins with some of some amount of review, giving you that spaced repetition, and providing context for the new words and concepts that the lesson is about to introduce, and generally provide a foundation for the new material. Day 1 is, by necessity, the exception -- how can you “review” material that you’ve never covered before? But for me, the day 1 lessons on how to say nihongo and arigato and watashi and anata were already “review” of topics that I picked up through years of being a weeb.

Besides that, there’s the fact that the structural elements of Japanese are something that my brain was naturally able to grok in a way that is intuitive to me after spending years listening to spoken Japanese even though most of it is contextual. (Like, I’m not sure when this happened, but at a certain point I think my brain just kind of learned, when listening to Japanese sentences, to approximate which parts were the verb and where certain clauses landed in the sentence, if only because when watching anime with subtitles you become consciously aware of when a character’s name appears in the dialog.) I’m not really consciously thinking about it, which kind of feels like the “natural” way to learn a language. (After all, it’s not as if native English speakers, as toddlers, consciously think to themselves, “Ah, it seems as though English typically follows a subject-verb-object grammar structure.” Kids just listen to adults speaking English and form sentences that way without really having to be formally taught.)

It’s highly likely that at some point in my internet career that I have at one point been the cynical message board poster telling someone that, contrary to their fantasies, watching anime isn’t going to help them learn Japanese in any real or material way, and if I’ve ever suggested that, it’s time for me to eat crow. Because while the advantage that “weeaboo-level Japanese” gives you might be small, and only help you on the first few days of Japanese class, those are the most important days, because the first 1% is always the hardest.

My familiarity with “weeaboo-level Japanese” has only given me one disadvantage, and that is that years of memes have poisoned my brain to the point where the first I was prompted with “say ‘excuse me’ in Japanese,” my brain (and mouth) immediately spat out “sorrymasen,” and I wish I could say it only happened once, but it wasn’t until around day 3 that I managed to fully train this habit out of myself.

#japanese vocabulary #learning japanese #japanese

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aprilsrant · 4 years

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Liquid Luck and its wonders | Harry Potter x Ravenclaw!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: Harry meets a shy girl from Ravenclaw House. After taking a liking to her, he tries to catch her attention.

WORD COUNT: 1,693.

WARNINGS: none, I think.

REQUEST: Hi! Um I'd like to request a Harry Potter x Ravenclaw!reader where she's pretty shy and Harry has a major crush on her so he's always trying to catch her attention in any way he can? Thank you!

A/N: English is not my first language, there could be mistakes here! If you enjoyed this, like, comment or reblog, whatever you want!

This took a little longer than I expected, but I wrote something and didn’t like it so I had to do it all over again and here it is! I love Harry so I’m really happy someone requested a fic for him because he’s so underrated! Hope you enjoy it!

MASTERLIST. / WORK IN PROGRESS.

Gif below is not mine.

The fake Galleon felt heavier than usual in her hands, the date of their last meeting —the fact unknown to any of them— still engraved in it, gleaming from different angles depending on how the sunlight would shine through the large windows. Not a single day would pass without (Y/N) looking at it from time to time, expecting to see the numbers change, waiting for the return of Dumbledore’s Army.

Once more, reality didn’t reach her wishes.

A sigh left her mouth while she climbed down from the windowsill and abandoned her dorm, Rowena Ravenclaw’s statue watching her back as the sixth year girl started to walk towards the Great Hall, stomach rumbling and crying out desperately for breakfast.

She sat down next to Luna Lovegood, her closest friend, and listened to her comments on Nargles, —“mischievous they are”, she said in a dreamy voice whilst buttering her toast—. (Y/N) knew a lot about the creatures that only Luna and her father believed in after years of being by her side, only separating for lessons and to sleep because of her being a year older than the silver haired girl, although you could find (Y/N) in her friend’s dorm more times than you could encounter Hermione Granger in the Library, laying down on the bed and staring at the canopy filled with little stars that would shine whenever Luna touched them with her wand. (Y/N) had done something similar with hers, but with a glowing full moon instead.

The stars and the moon were never far from each other and neither were them.

Zoning out from her housemates chattering around her, her eyes diverted to the Gryffindor table, quickly finding the remarkable Golden Trio talking to each other. Hermione seemed frustrated, Ron had a delighted expression on his face while the last member had been discussing with the only girl in the group.

Her heart jumped at the thought of them arguing about whether or not Harry would teach the D.A again, just like last year. But why would Hermione be upset then when she was the one who initiated the whole thing? The realisation that they were discussing other matters saddened her. Unconsciously, her fingers reached for the golden coin inside her rob’s pocket.

Glancing back at the plate in front of her, (Y/N) missed Harry waving his hand at her, closing his mouth about to greet her when he noticed the Ravenclaw was no longer looking at them.

Although Harry and (Y/N) were both sixth years and shared many classes, they hadn’t seen each other as much as the first would have liked because of the never ending assignments and most of their free periods spent in the Library.

On the day of tryouts for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, this changed. The girl and Luna had been relaxing near the Quidditch Pitch, resting on top of the grass while the first one read a book and her friend doodled faces on a notebook (Y/N) had gotten her as a birthday present alongside a new set of charcoal crayons, when a large group of people gather around the Pitch.

Leaving the book by her side, (Y/N) began to watch just as a first year crashed into one of the goalposts. Her right hand flew quickly to cover her mouth, a loud laugh trying to escape from her throat. But the laugh disappeared and a tight knot took its place upon seeing the amount of girls trying to catch Harry’s attention, and maybe more.

Luna giggled, her hand still moving around the paper but her bright, blue eyes were flashing with realisation and a funny tingle.

“You like him, don’t you?,” she asked without needing much of an answer.

(Y/N) shocked her head, eyes moving between Luna and the Quidditch Pitch. To her relief, Harry had, apparently, dismissed the girls and they were now sitting on the stands.

But nothing could escape Luna, and most certainly not something related directly to her best friend.

“He fancies you too,” the girl commented casually, like it wasn’t what (Y/N) had yearned to hear since their third year, “you should see how much he stares at you. I was concerned at first, maybe he’d noticed you’ve become infested with Nargles and I hadn’t, but… but then I realised he liked you because I remembered seeing the look on his face.”

“From where?,” (Y/N) questioned softly, still trying to process the fact that Harry Potter liked her. It’s not like she didn’t trust Luna’s judgement —even if people believed she was out of her mind, the girl was surprisingly good for this kind of thing—, but her own insecurities clouded her mind. Did he really fancy her? And if he did, what was so special about her that had captivated Harry’s interest when so many others were throwing themselves at him?

“My dad had the same expression whenever he looked at my mum.” A small smile grew on her face while (Y/N)’s hand travelled to grab one of Luna’s, the one resting on top of the notebook, and squeezed it lightly and reassuringly. “I can still see it whenever he mentions her.”

After the conversation she had with Luna, (Y/N) started to notice more of Harry’s efforts to talk to her while walking to class; after a particular rough lesson of Defense Against the Dark Arts with Snape; sharing hushed instructions (different to the ones in their book but incredibly helpful) every time he pretended to look for more ingredients and walked right behind her during Potions.

Their short exchanges turned quickly into long conversations and shared afternoons, both of the teenagers trying to forget, maybe even ignore for a little amount of time, how dark and obscure was the Wizarding World becoming.

Harry didn’t confess his feelings, —those increasing each time she smiled, or laughed, or gazed at him while rays of sunshine illuminated her skin, making her look even more endearing than usual—, until one particular afternoon.

After succeeding on his mission, —to retrieve an important memory concerning Voldemort from Professor Slughorn that he had altered—, something coming from the interior of his body, or mind, he didn’t know, screaming at him to go to the kitchens. Logically, if a potion that induces luck to the drinker tells you to walk towards a particular destination, then that’s exactly what you do.

The boy wasn’t sure about what could possibly be waiting for him in the kitchens, but after seeing her sitting in one of the large tables across the room, coincidentally the replica of the one she’s used to have breakfast and dinner, he knew the reason the potion had wanted him there.

He took a seat next to her before greeting the house-elves, who were already bringing him trays full of pastries, and struggled to shake the dizziness out of his head —Harry couldn’t figure out if it came from the potion running off, the excitement of finally achieving the memory that would take him one step further to understand Voldemort and his plan, or the nerves that’d always attacked him whenever (Y/N) was near—.

“Hi, Harry,” she murmured softly without looking him in the eyes and grabbing a cookie from the plate in front of her, “what brings you here?”

What brought him to the kitchens and face the girl he had a crush on? Felix Felicis, of course. For what had the potion made him go there? He didn’t want to admit it, Harry didn’t want to confess the urge he had to kiss her whenever she would laugh at one of his jokes, even when they were terrible; he didn’t want to talk about how much he cared for her and how that was the exact same reason why he had taken so long to, first, accept his feelings and to even think about telling her about them. (Y/N) didn’t deserve to be thrown into a war he wasn’t sure he could win. And he didn’t deserve her. She would have to find another person to tease, to laugh with, to confide her problems and desires.

However, the potion hadn’t left his system yet, not entirely at least and enough to make a difference in (Y/N) and Harry’s friendship.

“I-I think I have feelings for you,” the words escaping his mouth before he could stop them, “and they are kind of weird because every time you walk in, or you are close to me, like right now, I don’t know how to act around you.”

No reaction came out of her, not even a slap, which he was kind of preparing for. (Y/N) stood motionless beside him, with the half of her cookie still in her hand, rests of chocolate and crumbs around her mouth.

“I’m sorry if I ruined our friendship, but I just,” he said before releasing a shaky breath,” I needed to tell you that I fancy you and that you are absolutely amazing.”

Swallowing and licking her lips, missing for a few inches the bit of chocolate scattered on them, (Y/N) shifted her position. Her chest was now facing Harry completely, her left leg below her body, giving the impression that she was taller than him, while the other one supported her weight. One of the girl’s hands had barely touched Harry’s jaw when she kissed the corner of his mouth.

“What took you so long?”

Harry could no longer see the chocolate and the crumbs, instead, he was capable of tasting them the second their lips met, hesitant at first but more confident the second time they did.

Whispers coming from the house-elves, —who had stopped, for once, doing their work and were now staring at them, many with tears in their big eyes—, made (Y/N) and Harry to separate from each other, even if it was the last thing they wanted.

“Maybe we should leave,” the Ravenclaw suggested softly in his ear.

Nodding eagerly, Harry took her hand and they both walked out of the kitchens, a grin on each of their faces.

general taglist: @gcdric @lilac-wrists

If you want to be add to the general taglist or to the taglist for a specific character, let me know!

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luzarya · 3 years

Text

The Broken Sketchbook Reveals Yuu's (Not-so Biggest) Secret

Twst x Yuu

[Where Yuu is (accidentally) a crossdresser and likes to draw wlw things. ]

Summary: Grim is curious as to what were the contents of Yuu's sketchbook, employing Ace's and Deuce's help. The contents reveal a secret that Yuu wasn't even trying to hide.

[or, Yuu is in a glass closet.]

ao3 link: here

warnings: none

word count: 1,574

----

Grim pawed at the sketchbook at him. It was a rather ordinary sketchbook, plain black with a plastic covering. Yet, for being so ordinary, the sketchbook had a single lock on it. It was clear that it was makeshift, straps sturdily glued on, the lock being small and requiring a numeral passkey to unlock it.

Grim had thought about using his flames to melt the glue, but decided against it- he knew how much Yuu was particular about their sketchbooks.

Grim looked around the Ramshackle dorm- it was after school hours, and Yuu was working a shift at the lounge. As usual, he had seen Yuu carry a sketchbook, one with a similar makeshift straps and a lock, although it had a sticker of a bunny on it. The sketchbook he held in his paws had no distinction, save for letters that spelt out words in a foreign language. What the words meant, he didn’t know.

But it was a curious item, one that practically begged to be open and exposed for all the world to see.

“Oh!”

Coming up with an idea, Grim grabbed the item with his mouth, running off outside.

“Eh? I don’t know how to take this off.”

“You didn’t even try!”

Grim pouted, the flames in his ears shifting a bit too unpredictable for Deuce’s tastes.

“It’s just a sketchbook, and it’s obvious that Yuu doesn’t want us looking through their things.” Deuce replied, flipping the book around. He took a look at the words written in bright silver, raising a brow.

“Is this… a foreign language?��

Grim shrugged, “Heck if I know… oh wait,” he paused, “I think I’ve heard Yuu say things that I didn’t understand.”

“Like what?”

“Never paid attention.”

Deuce only sighed, and gave back the sketchbook to Grim. “Well, either way, you should really return this,” he glanced to the side, “I’ll go back to playing basketball. Later, Grim.”

Deuce ran off, the sound of squeaking sneakers being the last thing Grim heard.

“Oh, Yuu’s sketchbook?”

“Yep!”

Ace picked up the book, giving it a curious glance over. “Huh.”

“Can ya open it?”

“Maybe. I might need a knife though.”

“Where would I get a knife?”

“The kitchen? Track is almost over, and Yuu doesn’t come back until late night right? We can just use one of your knives.”

“But it’ll be obvious!”

Ace sighed, “Do you want to know what Yuu draws or not?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“Then I’ll meet you back at Ramshackle!”

Grim had a bad feeling about this. The last time he tried to open up one of Yuu’s sketchbooks, he was met with a rather angry Yuu, who, calmly (yet frighteningly) spoke to him.

Grim quietly hoped that all would go well.

“Here ya go.”

Grim gave Ace the knife- it was a butter knife, but it would do the job just fine. Ace thanked the creature, and began to break the glue. He went in and up and down motion, the knife grinding against the mold of glue. It took a while, but he was making progress.

After a minute of doing so, the glue relented and gave away. No loner was the strap glued down, the sketchbook now open to be viewed.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Deuce quietly said. It was an invasion of privacy, but he too, was curious as to the contents of the sketchbook. Why did Yuu put a lock on it?

The first page had Yuu’s number and the location the book should be brought to- something of which was inscribed on the back of the book. Odd. Ace flipped the page- blank. Another page. Blank.

“What the heck…?”

He flipped to the next two pages, and finally, there was something.

It was a naked woman.

“Eh?!” Deuce stared at the drawing, his cheeks reddening.

There was nothing inherently sexual about the drawing, just a woman tying up her hair, sitting, a hairband in their mouth. The woman was glancing downwards, her arms up and hands hiding in hair. It was a rather simple drawing, although it was obvious that there was more work done on the hair and arms than the woman’s face or their body.

Why Yuu had drawn this, they didn’t know.

Ace flipped to the next page, and this time it was of two women kissing each other lovingly. Unlike the last drawing, these women adorned what looked like traditional dress (from where, no one knew), one of the women holding a bouquet of violets.

“Well, this is most certainly something.” Ace didn’t know what to make of the drawings. Deuce’s face was still red, and likely will remain red for the next few minutes.

Ace flipped to the next page, took a good look for one second, then closed the sketchbook. It was… rather explicit to say the least.

“I see why Yuu had it locked it…”

“Told you guys it was a bad idea…”

Ace slightly opened up the book, going to a random page, fully opening it once he knew it was appropriate.

It was a rather detailed drawing, more so than the last. It looked like a self portrait, although heavily stylized in a cartoony way, as instead of what one would consider what would be a normal skin tone- it was a pastel blue. The lashes were large, the wings too big to be humane. Their outfit was something they had never seen before, in an unknown aesthetic from old times, in a neon blue, but darker. In fact, the entire drawing was in blue, with multiple shades of blue in every way possible- metallic, textured and partnered, dull and tainted.

“Well, this is certainly different from the others.” Ace couldn’t quite believe that this was drawn by the same person, although he did identify some trademark traits- Yuu often drew the noses with a triangle if it was stylized, more realistic if… well, realistic.

“What in the world is y’all doing?”

Everyone turned around to see Yuu standing right behind them. They could see one of their eyes gleaming, the three sensing danger from Yuu.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Deuce squeaked out- this was the first time he ever felt fear towards the Ramshackle prefect.

“Is that so?” Yuu drawled out, eyeing the sketchbook in Ace’s hand, “pray tell, then why is my usually locked sketchbook open?”

“The lock broke!” Ace lied, his voice high.

“Really?” Yuu glanced at the knife, then back to Ace, “Then why do you have a butter knife?”

“We broke it! I wanted to see what was inside!” Grim yelled, giving his best attempt at a bow. Yuu’s facial expression softened, but as soon as it did, it returned to its original expression.

“Is that so?” Their voice was quiet, picking up their sketchbook. They let out a small sigh, yet their demeanor didn’t change- Ace and Deuce could still taste the tension in the air.

“Sorry...” Deuce apologized, although it came out weak.

“If you were curious, you could’ve asked,” Yuu looked at the damage, “I had more appropriate drawings elsewhere. I keep them locked for an obvious reason, you idiots.”

They took their sketchbook, and the broken lock, away. Their items were neatly laid on the table, including their other sketchbook that they had taken to work.

“Maybe we can ask Yuu about that one then?” Grim suggested.

“Sure.”

Deuce nearly jumped at the voice, not having expected Yuu to be so quick in returning. Ace noticed this, and laughed.

“Pfft, you should see your face, dude.”

“Oh, shut up! As if you weren’t scared earlier!”

“I wasn’t the only one!”

“Enough,” Yuu walked over, their voice effectively stopping the two from yelling at one another. The teenagers huffed, but they remained silent.

Yuu picked up their work sketchbook, inputting the numbers to unlock it. Now open, it revealed a number of doodles, some detailed, some rather simple. Notes were written, reminders for the future, and numbers to remember.

“So….” Ace spoke up, “What’s the deal with the naked ladies?

“...”

“Yuu?”

“I’m… a lesbian…”

“Wait what-”

“You’re a girl?!” Deuce looked at Yuu with wide eyes.

“Yes? I thought it was obvious?” Yuu returned the same look at Deuce.

“It wasn’t obvious! You never said anything!”

“I never thought I had too???”

“Y’know, this explains why Deuce never acted nervous before,” Ace quietly commented to Grim, watching the scene unfold.

Grim nodded, “I thought it was pretty obvious that Yuu was a girl.”

“I need.. To process this information…” Deuce got up, and walked out of Ramshackle Dorm, leaving a very puzzled Yuu and a calm Ace and Grim. Yuu let out another heavy sigh.

The tension was thick and heavy. In an attempt to lift the air, Ace spoke up.

“So. Girls?”

Ace looked at Yuu’s facial expression. Their puzzled expression melted to a softer one, one with a smile, replying, “Girls.”

Ace raises his hand, making a sort of fist. Yuu raised a brow, but raised a fist of her own. Ace smiled, Grim watching as Ace fist-bumped Yuu.

“Girls.”

…

...

Meanwhile, outside, Deuce was walking in a circle, wrapping his head around the thought that Yuu was a girl.

“Why am I so stupid?!” He cursed at himself.

“Eh, you didn’t know?”

Deuce turned his head, his eyes locking with those of Jack’s confused eyes. It took him a moment to process Jack’s words.

“You too?!”

#twst x yuu #twisted wonderland #luzarya writes things yuh #crossdressing yuu #yuu is lowkey wlw #twst fanfic

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mandoalorian · 4 years

Note

Hi 👋 hope your staying safe! Can I request something with Santi, please? Could you write something where Santi and reader used to be friends as kids, Santi having looked out for reader when she was picked on or if she fell over at school, but then after he graduated they lost contact until years later reader reaches out to him randomly and they reunite, maybe fall in love??

Sorry if it's strange, I'm going through something similar but I'm trying to get the guts to reach out to the guy, it's nerve wracking!! 😳😨 Maybe reading something will give me a boost 😂

Tinder [Santiago Garcia x F!Reader]

Word count: 1,700

Rating: 18+ I guess? I don’t know. Nothing explicit, it’s just Tinder is an 18+ app.

Warnings: food mention, tinder mention, allusions to sex

Masterlist

Tinder. It was so tedious. An app that had gained it’s reputation for being nothing more than a “hookup app” or even a “sex app”. It was associated with superficiality and laced with sexual innuendos. It was the app that had been accused of igniting modern day hookup culture. It was the app that Santiago Garcia frequented every damn day. The man even paid a premium! It was a quick and easy way for him to meet girls for drinks and a quick fuck. It’s all a man like Santiago had time for. Falling in love wasn’t an option for him. It was something he’d never considered until Games Night last week.

Once upon a time, Will’s small living room was just filled with him, Santiago, Frankie, Benny and Tom, but the head count had grown extensively over the past few years. Tom had reconciled with Molly, Yovanna and Benny had something going on, and now even Frankie was engaged to the blonde haired, blue eyed girl who sat quietly in the corner sipping tea and doodling in her sketchbook.

Santiago didn’t mind the girls. In fact, he actually enjoyed their company, but their presence only had him yearn for something more. He’d never been one to think about settling down or starting a family of his own, but he felt an indirect pressure. Maybe trying out one long term relationship wouldn’t be so bad after all? But he was so used to his flings. How was he ever going to grow out of his commitment issues and find someone he could really connect with.

Truthfully, he’d already found her, about fifteen years ago.

You and Santiago Garcia were the best of friends. You used to do everything together; walking home from school hand in hand, singing and dancing when you thought no one was around, playing LEGO and building up jigsaw’s. He was your soulmate, in every sense of the word. But you can’t stay young forever and eventually Santiago left your small neighbourly town to join the military. And you never saw him again.

Which is why it was a surprise when you, half asleep at 2 am, and drooling on your pillow, lazily swiped right on his profile. You weren’t even paying attention. Just another tanned skin man with dark brown hair and chocolate eyes. It was a haze, and your desperation to move on from your ex boyfriend had you yearning to meet someone new. You groaned tiredly, deciding you were never going to find someone as good as your ex, switched your phone off and shoved it under your pillow before finally getting some sleep.

At around 3 am, Santiago still wasn’t asleep, thanks to his roommate Frankie and his fiancée keeping probably the whole apartment complex awake. He pulled out his phone from his nightstand and checked Tinder. That’s when he saw you. Before even checking your name, he could tell it was you by that familiar sparkle in your eyes, and the way your perfect lips curled into a smile. It might have been fifteen years since he’d last seen you, but just looking at your photo made it feel like yesterday. He couldn’t contain his wide grin as he flicked through your photos. You looked just as beautiful as ever, and Santiago recalled the crush he had on you when you were both kids. He wondered how come you hadn't settled down already. He knew you always dreamed of getting married and having kids, with a big house and a big dog. So why were you on Tinder?

In a simple spur of the moment, Santiago swiped right.

‘It’s a match!’ the words blew up on Santiago’s screen and illuminated the dark bedroom. Streamers and confetti exploded around your photo; the typical thing that always happened when he matched with women on Tinder, only now it actually felt like celebrating. This meant that you must’ve swiped right on him too.

You spent the morning the same way you always did, laying in bed and checking the notifications on your different social media. Just before you were about to get up, you remembered how you’d impulsively installed Tinder the night before and, on a whim, you opened the app to see if you had matched with anyone.

You scrolled through the eight matches you’d gained through the night, frowning and twisting your face in disgust at some of the profiles. You really hadn’t been paying attention to who you were swiping.

Your eyes went comically wide when you read the name at the end of the list.

‘You have matched with: Santiago Garcia! Say hi!’

It was like time had frozen and you read the words over and over again. Santiago Garcia. Santiago Garcia. Santiago Garcia. You wondered how many Santiago Garcia’s lived in New York City - or more specifically, only three miles away?!

You hammered your thumb into your screen to view his profile and you were blown away as you went through his photos. That was definitely him. That was definitely your childhood best friend. Although his hair was once dark and curly, it was now short and slightly salt and peppered. He had a slight graze of facial hair in all of his photos, and in most of them, he was seen to be hanging out with a bunch of other guys. Wait- was that Francisco Morales too? They were still friends?

You were so nervous to say something. Truthfully, if you had come across his profile at any other moment where you weren’t half asleep, and hopelessly desperate for love, your fear would’ve stopped you from swiping right. You’d been in love with Santiago since pre-school. It had been over a decade but you still thought about him every single day and cherished those long lost moments you spent together.

But the reality was, that he’d swiped right on you too. He was interested in you as well! Which had to count for something. You took a deep breath and typed out the words “Hello :)” before quickly turning your phone off and throwing it across your bedroom.

You sat bolt upright in your bed for a few moments, contemplating what you had done. You told yourself it would be okay and asked yourself what was the worst that could happen. You sighed and forced yourself out of bed to get ready for the day ahead.

Turning off your phone was a good idea because you’d actually forgotten about messaging Santiago until about lunch time. You flicked through the television channels, holding a lazily put together sandwich in your free hand, and landed on a dating game show. You considered applying, thinking about how fun it might be, when you remembered you might already have a shot with someone else. Santiago. You dropped your sandwich on the coffee table in a frenzy, ran to your bedroom and turned on your phone. The painful minute it took to completely boot up sent butterflies rampant in the pit of your stomach.

Santiago: Hey! How you doing? I gotta say I was really surprised to see that we matched last night. It’s been a long time!

Oh my god. He’d replied. He’d replied three hours ago and you hadn’t said anything back. Shit. You wondered if you had already blown your chances, but little did you know, Santiago had been holding out for a message from you for a long time.

You: Right...almost fifteen years, I think! I’m okay. How are you?

You pressed send and took a deep breath. It was okay. Just casual small talk. It would be okay. You slid your phone into your pocket and went back to eat your sandwich. No matter how hard you tried to focus on the game show, you just couldn’t stop thinking about Santiago.

“Santi! You got a new message!” Frankie called from the other room, taking a huge, messy bite out of a candy bar and picking up his phone.

“Frankie! I’m literally on the toilet… can it wait?” Santiago cried, face palming and chuckling incredulously. Living with his best friend for five long years meant that Santiago had become accustomed to interactions like this.

“No, I don’t think so,” Frankie mumbled, knotting his eyebrows together as he read the notification that had popped up on the screen. “Hey, are you talking to Y/N L/N from high school?”

“Wh- what?” Santiago asked, feeling his cheeks flush.

“Oh my God you are!” Frankie gasped excitedly, typing in his friend’s passcode for his phone and getting inside. “On Tinder!”

Santiago finished up washing his hands and walked out the bathroom, an unamused scowl drawn upon his lips. Frankie swallowed at his best friend’s expression.

“This has to stop,” Santiago warned, taking his phone from Frankie’s hand. “I love you buddy, I really do. But you’re getting married next Summer. You can’t keep trying to talk to me while I’m on the toilet!”

Frankie laughed and rolled his eyes before getting back to his video game.

Santiago was shocked to be reminded that you had remembered exactly how long it had been since you last saw each other. He began to compose his next message. You practically screamed when you felt your phone vibrate at the notification.

Santiago: I’m well, thanks for asking. Would you be interested in meeting up sometime for a few drinks? I’d love to catch up.

Drinks. A catch up. It sounded perfect. You already found your mind racing as you wondered what to wear.

You: That sounds great!

Santiago’s reply came fleetingly.

Santiago: Are you free tonight? X

Tonight was so soon… but you were free, and it felt like you’d been waiting forever to reunite with your childhood crush. And he felt the same way. It was so exciting for both of you.

You: Tonight sounds great. See you then :) x

You and Santiago spent the rest of the day in anticipation to see one another. You didn’t know then, but the accidental Tinder encounter turned out to be the long lasting and perfect relationship both you and Santiago craved. The soulmates were reunited at last.

Taglists - let me know if you wish to be added!

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #pedro pascal #frankie morales #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia

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rockinggirl06 · 3 years

Text

TRULY MADLY DEEPLY 💕

✨A Jily Songfic Oneshot✨

Wattpad + Tumblr Masterlist

Likes liked ! Reblogs adored ! Comments LOVED ! + Stealing is a crime !

Warnings: none ! Pure beautiful fluff !

Note: I highly recommend keeping the song on repeat on Spotify while reading the oneshot =)

- -

A one-shot inspired by and about Jily's wedding night and after. A James POV in verse. A Lily POV in chorus.

- -

Am I asleep, am I awake, or somewhere in between?

The boy woke up from his slumber. Shaking his head, he tried to recollect the memories of the night before. A cheeky grin enveloped his features as the thoughts of the day before flooded his mind.

I can't believe that you are here and lying next to me

His eyes fell upon the redheaded angel-like face, her chest heaving slightly up and down with every breath. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair which seemed more untidy than ever due to last night's.. *ahem* activities.

Or did I dream that we were perfectly entwined?

Was this it? Was his mind playing tricks on him? Had it all been a dream? He already found it hard to believe that the girl had actually agreed to go out with him in seventh year..

Like branches on a tree, or twigs caught on a vine?

And now she was under his sheets. His sheets.

Like all those days and weeks and months I tried to steal a kiss

The uncountable times James Fleamont Potter had confessed his undying love for her to which she would just roll her eyes at the boy's childishness. All those times he tried to steal a kiss during their little studying sessions and how she simply would playfully stick out her tongue at him.

And all those sleepless nights and daydreams where I pictured this,

His three mates had grown tired of hearing the lovesick boy's mutterings about how he'd one day marry her. And his parchment and quills were also very aware of the boy's hopelessness as random doodles with her name entwined always found their way on the corners of essays.

I'm just the underdog who finally got the girl

And there she was. The girl he had chased for as long as he can remember. Bright fiery red hair with a fiery personality to match: Lily Evans.

Potter now, actually.

And I am not ashamed to tell it to the world

The way he spinned her around wih glee when she nodded a tearful yes, the way a certain professor had gotten a wedding invitation with a "PS. I told you she loved me, Minnie." And the way he had sang louder than anyone else in the shower that day possibly making the entire Gryffindor house aware of his joy. The boy was head over heels in love, and well, she was falling too.

---

Truly, madly, deeply, I am

And he was on his knee. A gasp escaped from her mouth. This was the moment. Their moment. All her subtle stolen glances at him and the way he made her heart flutter everytime a teasing 'Evans' drawed from his lips.. all of that had lead to this. Tears lined her eyes as she nodded a yes.

Foolishly, completely falling

As a friendship blossomed between the destined pair, they took on their head boy and head girl duties. Potter had stopped with his continual display of affections to the girl and yet now the girl had started falling. Hard. Maybe she always liked him along the way. And it definitely didn't help how much taller and handsome he had grown over the summer.

And somehow you kicked all my walls in

And one day she couldn't help herself. On a patrol as usual as ever, she pinned the boy against the wall and kissed him. All those walls set up came crashing down as their lips crashed.

So baby, say you'll always keep me

After breaking apart, a red hue similar to her hair took over her corsage as the boy simply grinned in amusement and euphoria, and teased, "Alright there, Evans?"

Did she really hate the messy haired boy with the glasses? Nah she didn't.

Truly, madly, crazy, deeply in love with you

With all the roses and candles the boy had set up at their first night together as husband and wife, she couldn't have asked for anything else. And here she was remembering the events of last night where she had pulled his body into hers and made love as he kissed each and every one of her freckles softly.

In love with you

She was truly in love. In crazy, stupid, cliché, cheesy but beautiful love.

---

Should I put coffee and granola on a tray in bed?

She lay beside him and for the first time, he was confused. What was he supposed to do?? Prepare her breakfast? That would please her, right? His father always cooked for his mother. And he definitely could make a mean omelette.

And wake you up with all the words that I still haven't said?

But would that be the newly wed "husband" thing to do? Maybe he should wake her up murmuring sweet things in her ear? But on the other hand, the last time he woke her up, he'd gotten himself punched square in the jaw. And Evans —Potter! He kept forgetting yet always corrected himself with a shy smile— was rather strong.

And tender touches, just to show you how I feel

His tense shoulders relaxed as he simply admired the sight before him. Caressing her face, he tucked some of her red locks behind her ear as he placed a soft kiss upon her cheek. He could simply count all the freckles on her face over and over again. He'd never get tired of looking at her.

Or should I act so cool like it was no big deal?

Maybe he should just get up and shower. Did girls like it when boys made fuss about this or not? Well, then again, it was their wedding night. All doubts from his head were washed away as she gave a small smile and leaned into the touch of his hand which lay caressing her cheek. Maybe he'd just stay here for a few more moments, he decided.

Wish I could freeze this moment in a frame and stay like this

And to think everyone in the wizarding work knew we were on the brink of war. No! He refused to think of that right now. 'Live in the moment,' his best friend had always told him. And that's what he did. He snuggled closer towards the girl, putting an arm over her gently, and pulled her flush against his bare chest.

I'll put this day back on replay and keep reliving it

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and her sweet flowery scent consumed his senses. Their bodies entangled together beautifully and he couldn't think of a better day to start a day. He could now. He would now wake up every day to the love of his life. Maybe until when they were 100. Yeah, yeah he definitely would, the boy declared in his thoughts.

'Cause here's the tragic truth if you don't feel the same

People might consider it rather childish: the way he would confess his love for her ever since their third year. But he truly meant every love confession to her growing up. Maybe it was the sweet tinkling sound of her laughter, or her adorable pout whenever Flitwick assigned extra homework or Merlin, it was probably that one time she flirted with him after a Quidditch Match which caused him to become infatuated with her forever.

My heart would fall apart if someone said your name

And he truly loved her so much, words were never enough to describe it. He really hoped she felt the same.

---

And truly, madly, deeply, I am

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid." She meant that actually. James Potter was definitely an arrogant toerag. But that's the thing. He was.

Somewhere along the way, the prideful egotistic boy had become a caring and proper man. Her green eyes couldn't help but linger on him more as his usual bullying time was replaced by maturity. That time turned into taking care of his werewolf friend, or even time for comforting his best friend who cried into his arms in the corner of the common room some nights.

And soon enough, a friendship blossomed between the unlikely pair of the redhead and the brunet.

Foolishly, completely falling

And sooner it turned into more..

"Ariel, Ariel uh- let down your window?" One night, a rather confused whisper came from Lily's bedroom window. With a startle the girl rushed to slide up the windowpane and was met with the lopsided grin and the familiar hazel eyes with a playful twinkle looking back at her. "Potter!" She shook her head with a chuckle as she allowed him in. "Evans.. I missed you, okay?" he drawed out sheepishly as he gently pulled her closer by her waist. Heat rose to her cheeks as she looked up at him.

And somehow you kicked all my walls in

The boy leaned down towards her lips unable to resist the girl any longer but Lily turned away at the last moment (resulting a rather sad pout on the boy's lips) as she heard her name being called downstairs. "Lily! Next time your boyfriend wants to visit at 12 am, tell him to use the door, okay? My rose bushes are ruined!!"

So baby, say you'll always keep me

And now she was waking up beside him.

She meekly opened her right eye to see if her husband —yes, husband she reminded herself proudly—was still asleep. A lazy smile on his lips, she was greeted with a drawl in his low morning voice, "Good morning, Evans."

Truly, madly, crazy, deeply in love with you

His infuriating smirks had now grown into breathtaking smiles. And he gave her one right now earning a blush upon the girl's cheeks. In his arms and close was exactly where Lily wanted to be. She smiled back endearing and simply looked at him with awe, treasuring the moment, before closing the distance between them. As she pecked his soft lips, she murmured into them, 'Potter, actually."

She was his and him, hers.

All was well.

Anyone catch the ending words reference? The first time I heard this song some months ago (maybe even a year oop—) , I just knew it SCREAMED #Jily. And so here I am finally writing and publishing this !

Thanks for reading and love you all you beautiful people !

Riri <3

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shaykai · 3 years

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How abt Astor(aoc) for the character thing?

First impression

I honestly don't remember my first impression of him? I think I thought he was neat? Djdjjdj

Impression now

Rat bastard man, also Nintendo please give me his lore. I want so badly to know what his deal is. What was his life in Hyrule like? Did he have any friends?? In short he's shitty and arrogant and I love him djdjdjd

Favorite moment

Hmmmm either when you first fight him, and he summons the blighted versions of the champions (which I think is a very fun moment) or in that terrible cutscene where he finally betrays Sooga/Kohga and it's terrible because he's an arrogant bastard who is actually winning at the moment and he's gonna hurt them and it's bad :( (also that's just like. One of my favorite cutscenes. Mostly because Kohga/Sooga are there and y'all the similarities between those two and Link/Zelda?? Anyways I'm here to talk about rat man, so I'll stop rambling)

Idea for a story

If you've been around for a while you've probably seen little doodles for an au where Fi and Ghirahim get to be in AoC. So yeah basically that djdjdjdj I think Ghirahim should get to go on adventures with Astor (and bonus points because it's a slow burn friendship djjdjdjdjd)

Unpopular opinion

I like to think he was relatively high ranking in Hyrule? Like not a lot but he also wasn't a peasant or anything. Also he basically lived in the castles library and he has his own little corner of it. (Its not technically his but there's so many old candles and books and also he's always there so no one else can have it)

Favorite relationship

Ghirahim Okay either Harbinger or Sooga. Harbinger is fun cause that's like. his only friend. Like yeeeeah Ganon was never his friend and Harbinger is basically Ganon, but also shush it's the same dynamic that Zelda has with Terrako and I will die on this hill. Also Sooga. Cause they hate each other. So. Much. It's great. Like any scene that has the two of them, there's just so much tension?? Sooga doesn't trust Astor AT ALL he is ready to kill him at all times. And Astor's pretty aware of the fact that Sooga does what Kohga wants/would do anything for him, and I fully believe he is not above poking at their relationship and actively taunting the fuck out of Sooga because unless Kohga calls the order, he's safe.

Favorite headcanon

He's a history buff, he loves history so much you guys. He knows all about Sheika tech and Ganon/Zelda/Link and their past reincarnations, he could tell you all about a magical place called Skyloft and Demise and Hylia and how one of them is cooler than the other one. He's also a pretty big fan of architecture because of this, but he mostly dabbles in myths and legends and old wars and histories and what not.

#astor #age of calamity #anon #ask

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uwua3 · 4 years

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Hello! Sunflowers hold a really special meaning for me so when i read the "sunflower dreams" My heart was so happy!! I havent felt this happy in a long time since quarantine started so thank you for taking the time to write it! It really made my day. If i could request a kazunari x reader where they're both artists that would be amazing. Maybe the reader can be a famous anonymous art influencer? Its up to you! Again thank you so much for writing "sunflower dreams" 💜

i’m so happy i could make you smile ‧⁺◟( ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀ ) it’s messages like these that absolutely make my day! thank you so much for taking your time to even read it, i’m glad to know it touched your heart ♡ i hope you have a good rest of your day—please know all of a3! love you vvv much!!! ｀･ω･)9 i hope this makes your heart happy just like before! thank you, anon, for everything

summary: every time you fell in love, you made a new art piece

author’s note: please smile from this absolutely soft and endearing kazunari fluff! in times like these where negativity is all around us, it’s good to take a break and purposely give yourself happiness. i hope this is a light in your day and makes you experience all the goodness of love! ♡ — concept based on “to all the boys i’ve loved before”

word count: 3,389

music: i like me better – lauv

to everyone i’ve loved before.

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

you created art every time you had a crush so intense, you didn’t know what else to do

no matter how big or small it was, or how long or short it lasted, love is love. even if it was a random stranger you’d never see again or someone you knew for a lifetime, love is love

therefore, there was no exact total. because even if you didn’t remember every single person you’ve made art for, you clearly remembered what it was like experiencing the euphoria of love. the phenomenon of your heart selflessly beating for someone else. the attack of getting hit by cupid’s arrow out of no where. the rush of emotions unlike any other

love was everywhere and you made sure to create something that was a memory of it. that was when you decided to practice art after being unable to recall a person’s face a moment too long

it was your form of a love letter. a picture spoke a thousand words you couldn’t write, and art was the perfect way to convey that. online for everyone to see were your love letters in art form: portraits of everyone you’ve loved

you fell in love again and again, a new art piece posted soon over the years of your life. under the username, to-everyone-ive-loved, a lifelong project was in the works for all of social media to see

unknown to the rest of the world, you were the artist behind the blog “to-everyone-ive-loved” who created portraits from memory

but, you didn’t mean to fall in love with another artist as well

all it took was one comment and you were theirs

it was one of your most recent posts, a finished piece on a stranger you saw. you found yourself in veludo way, the ideal street to find people you’d never forget. after witnessing a sudden street act, only one actor caught your eye that day

you didn’t know his name, but you didn’t need to. you were in love

you immediately rushed home without a second thought, the inspiration and creativity infectious after watching him perform. something about his energy was wildly entertaining and bizarre, like a modern pop song as a person. he was effortlessly trendy, popular, and charismatic just from the few minutes you saw him

the moment he stood up on that street corner like it was a stage, all eyes were on him and he knew it. as you sketched into the day, you remembered the small details clearly. dirty blonde hair with no dark roots in sight, glittering green eyes, wide welcoming smile. he had the face of an actor, that’s for sure

when you posted it right after finishing, you didn’t expect any major attention. on average, your posts got 100 likes or so. while it was an impressive feat, nothing could’ve prepared you for that one comment

kaz-PIKO: i’m in love with your art ♡

as your popularity and fame grew before your very eyes, you clicked on his profile and realized it was him. the actor you had seen earlier at veludo way

you didn’t know what happened, but all you knew was you couldn’t forget this one person, miyoshi kazunari, no matter how hard you tried

no matter where you went, you couldn’t draw anyone else except that boy named kazunari. after scrolling through his entire instablam account, you found out he was an actor for mankai company’s summer troupe. he was a star in his own right, with a stage presence like the spotlight was constantly on him and a heart of gold

this was the first time you ever got so caught up on someone that they didn’t leave your mind. hours became days, and days began becoming a week before you let yourself follow him back

everyone you had ever drawn had never recognized themselves before. it was all because a follower connected the visual similarities between your art and kazunari’s unique traits that kazunari knew you had seen him before

if only he wasn’t a social media influencer with followers reaching the hundreds of thousands. at least, his popularity attracted attention to your profile...

this was a problem, however. because if you couldn’t draw anyone else, what could you do? once again, you stalked kazunari’s blog once again like it was a habit

it was never really a rule to make one love letter per person, but you never had wanted to make another for the same person. until, now

video after video. picture after picture. story after story. you could see kazunari’s face even when you closed your eyes. what about him made you daydream about him constantly? was it his charming voice that could make anyone stop and stare? his intricate piercings that were different every day? his ability to make you feel at home? whatever it was (or maybe it was an accumulation of everything and more), you had to draw kazunari again

when you posted it, you typically didn’t add more to the caption than the date and time. except this time, you felt like all your rules were being broken over someone who had no idea who you were

to-everyone-ive-loved-before: XX/XX/20 (3:33 A.M.) — social butterfly

you watched it upload. it was a piece you had never done before. glowing butterflies of all colors surrounded the center of the masterpiece, a smiling kazunari

hopefully, this would solve whatever feelings you were having and the world would go back to normal. you’d move on, fall in love with someone else, and repeat

it didn’t work, because some time later, you woke up to a comment that made you feel the butterflies in your stomach

kaz-PIKO: like a butterfly, i’ll fly to you, wherever you are~ ☆

and for some reason, you wanted kazunari to find you

you had never felt so motivated to draw before. however, your muse was the same. a beautiful boy named miyoshi kazunari who was slowly capturing your heart without even knowing it. you watched the pages in your sketchbook lessen and lessen. the corners of assignments and napkins and anything in between was covered in doodles. if there was a writing instrument in your hand, something related to kazunari would come out of it

it was a fascination. a fixiation, even. you had only seen one performance before falling in love. was it because kazunari responded that it made you feel like you had a chance?

you wouldn’t admit it, but it was becoming embarrassing with how much you were staring at the few unread messages from kazunari in your dm box. they came in right after you had followed him back, and more arrived when you posted the “social butterfly” piece

what was stopping you from talking to your muse? you knew the answer without thinking: what if these feelings were real?

obsessions and crushes come and go, but... love, love stayed. there wasn’t any possibility you could love someone from afar without knowing anything about them, right?

but, then again... you did know some things about kazunari. you knew kazunari was the best actor of all time, with expressions and gestures the equivalent of art. kazunari was art—in every single way possible. everything about him made you want to draw and draw and draw

you only drew kazunari for a certain time, no matter which stranger crossed your path. people you knew you would’ve sketched simply became passer-bys, and it was all because of kazunari’s sunny smile that you were in love. or, what you thought was love

the more you thought about kazunari’s unread dms, the more you wondered what this was. why did kazunari make you so happy? was this truly the first time you were experiencing... a crush?!

for the first time since that street act, you found yourself in veludo way. while half of you was hoping you’d randomly bump into summer troupe’s moodmaker, the other half was petrified about how kazunari was a real person. a very much popular, recognizable person

it was the weekend, and the burden of university projects was telling you to go back and focus. yet, with a sketchbook in one hand and a pencil tucked behind your ear, you were very much prepared to draw to your heart’s content

as you tried to flip to a clean page, you heard something that made your heart flutter. despite the noise and busy atmosphere of veludo, a distinct laugh was audible above the crowd. when you looked up, your eyes barely registered a deep blue jacket before walking straight into the person

you nearly tumbled to the ground before two hands steadied you, a surprised “whoa!” leaving their mouth before being followed by a gentle laugh. the usual embarrassment didn’t set in until you went to go thank the person, only to stop

oh my god. you had just bumped into miyoshi kazunari, your muse for the past month or so

kazunari grinned, even though it faltered slightly at your wide-eyed expression and awkward silence. he didn’t seem to mind as he adjusted his black top hat, pocketing his phone and confidently meeting your gaze

“i’m so sorry~! i hope you’re okay, i’m kazunari!” kazunari introduced and you realized he didn’t know you were behind to-everyone-ive-loved-before. you quickly adjusted yourself, pretending as if this wasn’t the highlight of your entire week

when you introduced yourself, kazunari’s eyes sparkled with interest as he easily led you into conversation. despite being a bit of a socially awkward artist who preferred being alone over anything else, kazunari was... comfortable. you didn’t feel self-conscious of how you acted, because he readily accepted how you were with a smile

was he like this was everyone or... did he find you to be a work of art, too?

standing off to the side, you finally noticed several members of mankai were advertising their latest play. bright, aesthetically pleasing flyers were being handed out to everyone walking by, and you seemed to look a moment too long before kazunari followed your gaze and suddenly snapped his fingers

“oh! are you interested in theatre?” you really weren’t, but you nodded anyways just to see kazunari’s excitement. he pardoned himself for a moment just to snatch a flyer, returning to show it off with a proud smile

“please come to mankai company’s summer performance!” kazunari’s smile sparkled and before he looked around to see if anyone was watching, he winked. kazunari covered the side of his face that was facing his troupe members, pretending as if you two were sharing some big secret

“plus, i’ll be there. if you come, i’ll make sure to do my very best~” kazunari bargained, even though you already knew he was already planning on wowing the audience with his charisma. you took in his genuine want to impress you and the butterflies came back

“i’ll come.” you agreed without even checking the date or reading anything. now all of you just wanted more & more opportunities as the person kazunari was surprisingly interested in, not as the artist who was basically in love with him

agreeing right away was worth it when kazunari shot you a grateful, blinding smile in return. you stumbled over your words with how taken back you were, but asked anyways, “do you like flowers?”

kazunari’s eyes softened for a moment, his usual energy suddenly gone before returning. he seemed genuinely moved by your question, and you wondered how many flowers it’d take to see him smile again like that

“i do, especially if they’re from you.”

“what kind?”

someone called kazunari’s name, insisting they were going to be late for practice. kazunari shouted back an agreement by telling them to go ahead first, before putting all his attention on you once again

“hibiscus.” meaning delicate beauty

before kazunari could ask for your socials, with his hand already reaching for his phone, you cut him off, hoping your voice wasn’t off

“next week. 7 P.M., mankai theatre. i’ll be there, front row.” you promised and took off, rushing off with a wave as kazunari stared after you for a second before waving back enthusiastically

as you left, kazunari was about to leave before he noticed something on the ground. it was a plain sketchbook, unassuming at first but it was nearly bursting at the binding with how many pages there were

when kazunari picked it up, he was about to flip to the first page before mankai called his name again, impatient this time. kazunari held onto the book and sent one last glance towards your direction before disappearing, hurrying to make sure the director wouldn’t penalize him for being the reason everyone was late

when you arrived home, you instinctually reached for the pencil behind your ear. at the same time, you put your hand in your bag, attempting to feel the familiar edges of your sketchbook

then, after turning your bag inside out and finding nothing, you collapsed onto your desk chair with shock and disbelief

you lost your sketchbook in veludo way the moment you met kazunari. what if he had it?

you drew another piece and stared at your screen, wondering if you should post it. it was kazunari once again with a yellow hibiscus flower behind his ear, the same gentle smile you couldn’t perfectly capture gracing his lips

you typed the caption and backspaced before settling on something that only you and him would know

to-everyone-ive-loved-before: XX/XX/20 (8:01 P.M.) — delicate beauty

you hesitated before deleting the post a second after. maybe, you’d keep some artwork to yourself

kazunari had the sketchbook open next to his bedside, his phone in his hands and your profile open. he could recognize your art style a mile away, and the moment he saw the first sketch after practice, he couldn’t believe it

did this explain why he felt such a natural attraction to you? when you bumped into him, kazunari swore he could see the sparks flying. you made him feel like he was falling in love and you only proved him right when you two talked earlier. he wanted to know everything about you, he wanted to see you again

was this what love at first sight felt like? kazunari giddily typed a message over and over again, the unread messages of his filling his screen

kaz-PIKO: heya!! ★>d(,,･ε´-,,)⌒☆ just wanted to say i LOVE your art fr!!! we should totes collab, you know???

kaz-PIKO: thanks for drawing me btw :0 does this mean you live near veludo? let’s meet up!!!

kaz-PIKO: ,,, i don’t usually say this but, that social butterfly piece was breathtaking. you must really like me, huh? (･ω<)☆ jk haha

kaz-PIKO: no but really, it’s beautiful. thank you, honestly. it made my day, you make me happy ♡

kaz-PIKO: you must be really beautiful, too. i would want to draw you as well. lmk if ur up for that haha

kazunari read back his previous messages, all of them delivered but unopened. he realized how... how open he already was with the anonymous faceless artist, despite never interacting with them

now that he knew what you looked like, it only reassured his intuition that he was rightfully head over heels for you

kazunari typed something before deleting it, closing out of instablam and throwing his phone somewhere on his bed

kaz-PIKO: i was right, you are beautiful. i may have fallen in love, too

some things were better left unsaid. after all, you two had until next week to figure everything out

for the rest of the week, all you and kazunari did were think about the other person. a small part of you was afraid kazunari wasn’t the dream boy you imagined, but he was much more. you noticed he started posting more often and turned his notifications, wanting to be one of the first to see his practice videos and university selfies

you didn’t post any of the art you made of kazunari, making it the longest you hadn’t posted ever. kazunari couldn’t help but refresh your account every now and then, hoping he’d see his face again, as selfish as it was. kazunari wouldn’t know how’d he feel if he saw someone else had your heart

the longer time went on, the more you were certain. every fascination you had with someone was temporary, and you remembered the feeling rather than the person. but, with kazunari, you liked him for who he was. everything kazunari made you feel was new and exciting, but even when that went away, you still liked him

kazunari was your first crush, for real

kazunari liked making people like him. so, your online confession through art wasn’t exactly a surprise. but, yours was different. it was earnest, honest, and everything he didn’t know he was needing

kazunari looked through your sketchbook again and again, tracing over the notes you wrote in the margins and admiring your skill

kazunari liked you, and he was certain he would’ve still liked you even if you weren’t to-everyone-ive-loved-before

when showtime arrived, kazunari was oddly nervous. peeking from behind the red curtain, kazunari could already see you were one of the first sitting front row, just like you said. he had practiced his lines a thousand times and summer was fully prepared, why was he nervous?

before he went on, kazunari ignored the urgency of the mankai staff and quickly texted a message to your profile, hoping you’d at least see the notification this time

kaz-PIKO: i like you, too

(when you felt your phone buzz, you quickly silenced it)

the show moved you to a standing ovation, just like everyone else in the audience. as summer walked out to bow and express their gratitude, you watched kazunari’s eyes search for yours as he tilted his head towards backstage. you nodded, knowing you’d do anything to see this kazunari. actor kazunari, who was on cloud 9 with his performance and glowing from praise

you wanted to see, to experience, to draw, all versions of kazunari

after the applause, you looked around backstage before feeling a hand on your arm, the feeling reminiscent of the first time you bumped into kazunari

“you came.” kazunari breathlessly stated, as if he was surprised. before he could say anything else, you presented him with a bouquet of hibiscus flowers. the same shade of yellow you drew him with

“of course, i wanted to see you again.” you honestly admitted, knowing it made you flustered. kazunari carefully took the flowers before grinning, gently placing then beneath his chin. he looked like a vision, you wish you could’ve asked him to stand still so you could capture this moment forever

“i wanted to see you, too.” kazunari softly said, all the energy of being on stage gone. it was tranquil and peaceful, like you two were the only people in the entire theatre

kazunari took a moment to admire you before realizing something, taking something from behind him and presenting it to you. it was your sketchbook on the bottom, but a smaller version was on top of it, signed in silver sharpie. kazunari’s signature was glittering like his eyes as you took it

“next time, let’s draw together.”

kazunari’s sketchbook was filled with you. anything from small doodles to encouraging messages was found inside, with tens of post-it notes of just thoughts about you. kazunari’s art was colorful and extremely out of the box compared to his usual traditional style. it made you smile

kazunari watched you flip through it, already knowing this was the greatest act of love he could’ve declared this early on. he anticipated for you to reach the end

when you landed on the last page, you saw a note

do you want go on a date with me?

“next time, respond to my dms! that way i don’t have to write everything~!” kazunari teased and you two shared a laugh, knowing everything was going to be okay

“yes.”

“yes...?”

“yes, i’ll respond to your dms. and yes, i’ll go on a date with you.”

eventually, you ended up closing your blog for good. your last post was a picture of you and kazunari, with one caption

to-everyone-ive-loved-before: XX/XX/20 (3:33 P.M.) — to the one boy i love now, i love you

kaz-PIKO: i love you, too ♡

#miyoshi kazunari #kazunari miyoshi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #kazunari x reader #a3! kazunari #a3 kazunari

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