#i feel very self-conscious putting my handwriting out there

[chakkll]

Lucky Day

Mike Schmidt x gender neutral!reader

Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy’s

Synopsis: A certain exhausted customer hasn’t failed to order a coffee every morning ever since the cafe opened up two months ago. Today, however, he seems much more stressed than usual.

Warnings: pre-movie, fluff

Word count: 1k

“Mama! Look, look, I even got the receipt!”

You smile as the little girl who just ordered a hot chocolate skitters over to her mother with a proud smile.

Warm sunlight shines through the windows of the cafe, illuminating the dark oak tables lined by the walls decorated with paintings and drawings by little kids.

You’ve loved working here, even though the place hasn’t been open very long. The atmosphere never fails to calm you.

The line is empty once again, so you turn to your coworker and friend, Candace, about to start a small conversation until you hear the front door’s bell jingle.

You look over to the door, readying your work smile, until you see who it is.

There he is. Right on schedule.

A genuine smile creeps onto your face.

Ever since the cafe you work at—Cora’s Coffee—opened two months ago, the same worn-out yet handsome customer hasn’t failed to show up every morning at 9am for a coffee.

And in Mike walks, this time sporting dark circles under his eyes.

He walks past the little girl clutching the receipt next to her mother and right up to you.

“Hey,” he breathes.

“Black coffee, a quarter cup of half and half, and one spoonful of sugar?”

Mike blinks, staring at you blankly until the ghost of a smile appears on his face.

“Yep.”

But his response doesn’t matter, because you’re already writing down the order and handing it to Candace.

“You look tired,” You observe as you put his order into the cash register. Mike sighs and offers a weak shrug.

“Up late job hunting.” Is all he says in response, causing you to glance up to him.

Somehow he looks even more sleep deprived than normal. …Still handsome, though.

You can feel your cheeks warm slightly at the thought, but you brush it off.

“Job hunting? I thought you were just hired somewhere?” You frown.

“Yeah, so did I.”

You sigh softly as Mike takes out a 10 dollar bill to pay, but you wave him off. He stares at you in confusion.

“On the house.”

Mike blinks, staring at you quizzically. “…Won’t your boss be upset?”

You shrug. “She can take it off my pay.”

Mike’s stare doesn’t let up, and it’s starting to make you a little self-conscious.

“What? Never heard of a little act of kindness?” You huff as you hide your face behind the cash register, acting like you’re busy to try and hide the small blush on your cheeks.

You can hear a small chuckle, causing your eyes to widen. You look up from behind the cash register to see a small smile gracing Mike’s lips.

“Thanks.”

You shrug, causing him to chuckle once again.

“…You remind me of my sister.” You hear Mike mutter softly. Looking up, you see a sad glint in his eye. His smile is gone.

“Your sister?” Mike looks at you, and you can tell he’s a little surprised you heard him.

“…Yeah,” When you don’t say anything, he sighs and continues. “She’s younger than me. 10 years old.”

You blink. “I remind you of a 10 year old? Gee, thanks.” Mike snorts.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. You’re just… I don’t know, you remind me of her.”

You smile. Just as you’re about to say something, you feel someone elbow your side. It’s Candace, handing you Mike’s coffee.

You frown in confusion, as it’s not your job to give customers their drinks. Candace motions for you to read the cap of the cup.

You read it, and clearly written on the cap is:

look on the bottom of the cup for a surprise!

Candace’s handwriting.

You glance at her suspiciously before looking to Mike. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Mike shrugs and you step farther behind the counter, peering at the coffee cup curiously. You glance up at Candace who’s taking a customer’s order, but she shoots you a cheeky smile.

You sigh and carefully raise the coffee cup above your head. On the very bottom of the cup reads:

Hey! In case you wanna hang out, here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxxx

- (Name) :)

Your jaw clenches in embarrassment.

“Candace—“

You look up, only to see that where Candace was standing is now your other coworker, Benjamin. He seems just as confused as you.

You grumble and screw the top back on.

Glancing up at Mike, you just now realize how long he’s been waiting for his coffee—this and chatting with you probably took up a lot of his time, as he’s almost always in and out.

You purse your lips as you glance down to the cup of coffee and back up at Mike. He chews on his fingernail, uninterested, as the sunlight now shines on him. The tips of his dark curls shine a nice golden brown.

Feeling bad that you’ve made him wait so long, you decide to replace the cap of the cup with a different one that has no writing on it.

Screwing the cap on, you walk back to your place at the cash register.

“Mike!”

Mike looks up and walks over. He takes the cup from your hands.

“I can pay.”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

Mike sighs, shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

“Thanks again.”

You smile and wave as he turns to the door. He sends you a wave over his shoulder, and with a jingle, he’s gone.

Two hours later…

You yawn, stretching your arms over your head as you walk out of the cafe. The bell bids you goodbye with a cheerful chime, and you walk down the street to a cheerful beat. You reach into your back pocket and pull out your phone.

Opening the settings, you turn off Do Not Disturb, only to see you’ve gotten seventeen texts.

You open up Messages, seeing most of the notifications were from a group chat with a few of your friends.

However, you have one text from an unknown number.

You curiously click on the text, only for it to read:

<9:36am>

hey, this is mike. i’m free on weekends if the offer to hang out is still available?

Your eyes widen and you read over the text at least three more times before you’ve finally processed it.

Mike Schmidt wants to hang out with you?

This must be your lucky day.

#fanfic #imagine #fanfiction #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x reader #fluff #strangers to lovers #barista #coffee #cute #short but sweet

[sourpatchys]

My personal Headcannons for Daryl Dixon that I will defend with my life

Just a warning! there is some nsfw❤️‍🔥 content in this list (not a ton)

This is a list full of random Headcannons I have, some are xreader related, some are just fun little things I’d like to believe because they’re fun

He l o v e s head scratches and chin scratches, just like a dog, his mom used to do it to him as a kid, it’s just really comforting to him

He is 100% dyslexic, he’s super insecure about it, which is why he leaves reading and writing up to anyone else who’s willing to do it.

This dude is secretly a math wiz. It came super easy to him, but he does tend to keep it on the down low because it was never something he was allowed to be proud of as a child, and it’s not really a needed skill anymore

I personally do not believe Daryl did anything hard while running around with Merle, Shrooms and weed were his limit 99.99% of the time, unless he felt pressured, but even then it would take a lot of convincing

He’s very self conscious about how thick his accent can get, he grew up in a much more rural area than the rest of Rick and Co. (apart from Maggie of course) and he feels out of place with his speech patterns at times.

Daryl was definitely a highschool drop out, assuming his birthday is January 6th, he left as soon as he was old enough to do it without a parent’s consent (18)

I just know this man never got his license. Can you imagine him paying his way through classes and taking a drivers test? I can’t. He probably just got a state ID for booze and just drove around illegally (if he got an ID at all, I’m sure he knew quite a few places that didn’t card)

He runs hot, the cold is a lot easier for him to handle than the heat, which is why he tended to wear sleeveless shirts or half sleeves

He has never had a “crush” in his life. He’s thought people were hot before, of course he has, but romance was never really on his mind

He’s not a total virgin, but he’s not exactly skilled either. His body count is probably 3, and I guarantee you he was not sober before, during, or after.

He’s a thigh and breast man. Hands down.

I know deep in my soul that this man enjoys some face sitting.

He’s not an overly sexual guy, if you were asexual he’d be okay with never doing anything, so long as you were happy

If you’re nonbinary, he was definitely mean to you at the start, with the way he was raised it simply didn’t make any since to him, BUT once you get closer and he starts to trust you, he might (he will) start asking some questions to understand you better

He isn’t a pet name kinda guy. He’s completely on board with calling you sunshine or princess, but anything past that just isn’t for him, and he really isn’t a fan of you giving him one either, unless it’s just a joking matter like how Carol calls him “pookie” from time to time

He’s a morning person and he hates it. He always wakes up at the ass crack of dawn, and every time he wishes he hadn’t.

He is definitely an insomniac, likely derived from having night terrors as a kid

He’s definitely self conscious about his scars, but not enough to cause issues if anyone happened to see them, he isn’t ashamed of them, but he doesn’t want to explain where their from, and he genuinely hasn’t thought of a good enough lie to tell instead.

When rick saw them for the first time Daryl had him fully convinced he was in a fight with a bear for about a week (rick never asked for the real reason)

He has a heavy sweet tooth, and likes to keep hard candy with him at all times (if possible) and he has never, and will never, pass up chocolate in any form.

He genuinely has chicken scratch for handwriting, he does not plan on ever attempting to make it easier to read, he enjoys the struggle people face when he’s put in a position where he has to write anything down. (Plus it helps conceal his errors if they do figure it out)

He does genuinely want kids in his life. Even if they can’t be his biologically. Being “uncle Daryl” is the best feeling he’s ever experienced, and he really wants to experience that with you if you’d allow it/want it (he would never pressure you to have kids)

Headaches and migraines plague his existence and they always have

He had super long hair as a kid and one of his punishments was his dad shaving it all off, which is why he kept it short until after the outbreak.

He would let you paint his toenails, or match his middle finger with whatever polish you decided to wear

This dude HATES clowns. Seeing a walker in a clown get up would absolutely kill him on the inside

You got sick? Don’t worry about it, he will absolutely attempt to make you soup from scratch using bone marrow and whatever else he can find

Fishing is not his thing. He knows how to, but he much prefers just catching them by hand or with a spear.

The closer you two get, the more likely he is to try and convince you that Bigfoot is real

Daryl is a secret star wars fan

He does NOT like country music, Led Zeppelin, Rob zombie, Ozzy osbourne and Lamb of god are much more his thing

He wasn’t a technology kind of guy, so if you tried to explain any aspect of social media to him he’d be completely lost (he didn’t even have a cellphone)

He has a super dry sense of humor

If he had to choose between starving to death or eating plain Cheerios, he would choose death.

One of the reasons he isn’t big on showering is because he doesn’t have a strong immune system from his childhood neglect, and he doesn’t want to shock his body and get sick

He also just hates the way soap feels on his skin. It’s way too sticky

During sex, he’s not strictly dominant or submissive, he’s ready to adapt to whatever you want, even if that means being strictly vanilla

He’s afraid of Santa Clause

And the Easter bunny

He’s willing to try anything once, even if he doesn’t think he’ll like it

He knows a lot of information on plants and herbs, so depending on your mood, he’ll try to find a flower to brighten your day with a little scribbled note explaining its meaning (because you can actually read his atrocious writing)

He’s never once told you he loves you, and your relationship wasn’t a spoken fact. His actions tend to speak louder than words, and if you say you love him, he will occasionally reply with a “back at ya.” Or “me too”

He always has weird shit in his pockets, like cool rocks he found, dead flowers, and fallen leaves.

He genuinely does not understand a single thing that Eugene says, and he never has.

The first time he ever kisses you on his own (you 100% have to make the first move) it’s a very rough and embarrassed act where he just grabs you and plants one in ya before you can even think about what’s happening

He will change his favorite color to whatever yours is, because if you can see beauty in it, then it’s all he can see from then on out

#daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion x reader #twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #twd daryl

[turbulentscrawl]

Ganji Gupta General HCs

I'm unable to make a header for Ganji at the moment, but I'll add one to the post later when I can get on my good desktop.

Edit: Added!

-First of all, in case it isn’t clear, Ganji started the fire. However, it’s important to note that Ganji chose arson for a few specific reasons. Plausible deniability was one. The second was that a fire gave people a chance to escape. Ganji believes in something along the lines of karma (I’m not especially religious or philosophical myself so I don’t feel inclined to pick one in particular for him), and a fire better allowed that to step in and save his targets. If the universe or whatever higher power, decided they deserved to live then they would, and Ganji could rest assured that they weren’t a wholly bad person. All but that child perished in the smoke and flames, though, so that settles that doesn’t it?

-Ganji is a man suffering from disillusionment. This is the result of him being taken advantage of. He left everything behind, came to another county just for the sport he loved, for his passion, only to find out that he was seen as nothing more than a novelty item. Something—not even a someone—kept around because his very existence was “amusing.” Disgusting.

-And it all happened because he’s naïve. He knows this, and just about everyone that’s around him for more than a day knows it, so now he’s incredibly protective of that aspect of himself. He’s not self-conscious of it or anything, he knows that naivety is just as aspect of someone being kind and trusting, but he’ll be damned if he lets someone else use him to their benefit again.

-Like Andrew, he’s developed a tendency to be sharp and reclusive as a defense mechanism. However, his emotional walls aren’t as thick, as dense. In a way, his hurt runs less deep because he doesn’t have self-hatred to factor into the cocktail of his pain. He warms to people faster and has a sweeter disposition under his cover…but you’ll have to be persistent if you want to get to that point. Ganji will shrug off offerings of kindness several times before giving someone a chance.

-In-line with his kindheartedness, but counter to the façade he puts up, Ganji can’t ignore someone else in real need. His mask falls as soon as someone’s peace or safety are threatened. He’s either the greatest hero or the biggest liability to have in a match because he can and will charge head-long into a hunter if it means saving another survivor. Even the ones he doesn’t like all that much. Additionally, he’s generally willing to argue on behalf of someone not willing to speak up for themselves.

-This boy is hard-headed. Stubborn! There are so many stupid hills he’s willing to die on. But he’s also not very good at arguments (which is unfortunate, considering the above hc), he stumbles over his words a lot, jumbles his points up. He sounds a lot more put-together in writing than in person, but his handwriting is atrocious so honestly good luck reading it. Poor guy is at a communication crossroads and both roads lead to embarrassment.

-As one might guess, this all makes Ganji very one-track minded in matches…and with most of his problems in life. Something wrong, anything? Swing the bat. At a ball, at a head. You know, whatever the situation calls for.

-His nativity also means that he doesn’t pick up on flirtation well. Someone either has to be very direct or very patient for Ganji to pick up on their interest. When he does catch on, he’s hesitant to reciprocate. He can’t deny the appeal of relationships, but he hasn’t had one since before he left home. Things are different. Really different, considering the manor…but it’s not hard to convince the guy to give love a chance as long as you’re not overly pushy.

-He spends a lot of free time at the manor trying to get people to play cricket with him. It doesn’t matter that no one else is really good at it, he just misses playing. William and Mike are the only ones who agree regularly, and that’s certainly not enough people. Most others only play along for Ganji’s birthday.

#idv batter #identity v #ganji gupta #ganji gupta x reader #turbulentscrawl #idv x reader

[uchihaharlot]

I didn't mean to break their hearts, I was just curious, srry!😭😭 (but Itachi's one was kinda funny-)

But anyway, now I'm wondering about how they would react if they found out that you can draw really cool and beautiful.

(I'm an artist, so😎)

Nonny 🥹🥹

That put me in an really good mood; lol. That was way too fun to write; maybe I can one day write a super angsty break up (but I love them too much!!!).

I love all artists 😭😭😭 Painters, writers — digital or paper. Anything that expresses the inner workings of someone’s mind and the fact that they can manifest it to reality is so so so beautiful. I hope I’ve secretly seen your art, I’d probably simp over it. Always simp over art. 😂😂🥹🥹

N/SFW; very cute Uchiha men adoring your artwork! 🥹🥹🥹 (ooc Madara??); Simpy Obito; …Scandalous Shisui; abnormally observant Itachi 😂 suggestive themes rolled out the further I got. For some reason, I just had to. (P.s. I should not be allowed to write when tired??? Half of this was done while my eyes rolled shut in bed).

Madara:

It’s not everyday that Madara is blown like a leaf in the wind. When you mentioned being a patron of the arts, he thought maybe the art of battle?? Didn’t expect your weapon to be a paint brush with some acrylic paint. Thought it was some weird jutsu infused shit.

And then you just had to go above and beyond and do a portrait of him for his birthday!!!!! It’s hung on the living room center wall so that it’s the first thing anyone sees! Honestly, this man is a brute, but your art envokes his softer side! A side that he hasn’t been in touch with for…well, a long time.

Makes sure that everyone and I mean, everyone, is aware of your talent! Still, he tries to find the side hussle in it, soliciting customers for you and all. 😭😭 Will trash talk the chalk art children make on the sidewalk, which ‘…that’s not nice, they’re children..’ you say. He shrugs, nobody is as good as you.

Obito:

Finds out and tries to ‘secretly’ commission you lmao. Makes it totally obvious too, his handwriting is shit and eveeeerrryyyyone knows who Tobi really is…. Plus how can you even begin without discussing what he wants done!! Duh, Obito! Unfortunately for him, you are more interested in drawing matters of the flesh. He’ll only show his chest, nothing more.

‘That’s fine.’ You shrug, and get to work. Obito, however, does not have the resolve to sit still! It’s frustrating to no end, but alas, after what seems an eternity— its done. Sort of. Still much to add, but the basics are there and you’ll work better when he’s not asking how does it look every twenty minutes.

Eventually you do finish this beautiful piece of him, and Obito cries. You made his scars tolerable and beautiful with your mind’s creativity, he feels less self conscious about them, only a little.

Shisui:

Is the least normal about it when he discovered your sketchbook — more like snatched and played keep away. Had to fight him for it, literally. Will ask you to paint/draw him naked…many times lol and you respectfully say no... Not that he likes people to see him naked (ok maybe a little?) but he secretly hopes it might happen one day. It would be a private thing for the two of you, cause he wants that ass.

And when you do cave to his whim, just to satiate him. He’s nervous lmao. Had this oh so macho man idea of rocking a hard on but Shisui simply maintains his usual semi. It’s nice though, you make sure it’s extremely detailed..as he asked for.

But, ‘(y/n)… this is chibbi!!!’ Lol, jokes on Shisui!! He didn’t say how to draw his pp.

Itachi:

Is the most normal about it. Though he still will praise you every time you finish a piece and show him, he is still massively impressed. How does your wrist not get tired? …maybe this is why your hand jobs are so good. 😈 Just watching you try a new technique (pointillism, which is my favorite style) makes his wrist hurt. Enjoys when you ask him for ideas! He has lots of them! Mostly…obscure and derelict landscapes though.

Would not be opposed to having his portrait done, but it’s really not his style. He is disciplined enough to sit still but doesn’t see the value in it. Not until the final product is revealed, does he truly understand how important this piece was. You’ve captured his personality in a new light.

#madara headcanons #obito headcanons #shisui headcanons #itachi headcanons #madara x reader #obito x reader #shisui x reader #itachi x reader #madara uchiha #obito uchiha #shisui uchiha #itachi uchiha #uchiha clan #uchiha family #uchiha headcanons

[s1utf0rtz]

hot chocolate | tz11

Running five minutes behind schedule would be fine if you weren't me. I admit it should be fine, but it's not, it's really not. I, Augustine Mae Reynolds (but you can call me August), create a schedule for myself every morning and todays, like everyday, gave me a fifteen minute time slot allotted for me to walk down the street and get a coffee, but now it's been twenty minutes since I my time started and it takes me five minutes to get home. So not even five minutes off, I'm ten minutes off schedule. I should be at home studying right now, finals are only a week away and I'm really looking forward to Christmas break.

"August!" I hear the barista yell.

I quickly weave my way through chatty people to the front of the shop.

"Trevor!" She announces another name.

I grab a coffee out of her hand and rapidly make my way out of the door. Pulling my coat closer to my body as I step out into the early-December Michigan weather. Snow blankets my hair as I storm home.

"Hey," I hear from behind me, "wait"

I turn around to see a boy that's maybe my age or a little older, snow flakes littered through his dark blonde hair. He must be freezing, its twenty-two degrees and snowing and he's wearing sweatpants and a tee-shirt.

"Umm... Hi," I respond not really knowing whats going on.

"You grabbed my drink," He smiles, looking down at the cup.

"Oh," My eyes travel to the cup in my hands, sure enough 'Trevor" is scribbled on the side of the cup in black marker and loopy handwriting.

"Sorry," I whisper and hand the warm coffee back to him.

He looks down and grabs the cup, then hands me mine, "No problem."

Then he starts to chuckle and I suddenly feel very self conscious.

"What," I state trying to sound calm even though I was exploding inside. This run in is putting me even more behind schedule. Plus, talking to new people is way past the boundaries of my comfort zone.

He meets my eyes, "You seem nervous."

I sigh.

"Hey, calm down. It's okay, it was an accident and a cup of hot chocolate," He tries to calm me down. It worked.

"Yeah," I mumble and look up at him. He smiles and that makes me smile.

"You know what, you should come to my hockey game tonight."

"Oh no, really I'm okay," I try and convince him. What I really didn't want to say is that I've never been to a hockey game, that's not really my thing. A bunch of people way too exited screaming at a bunch of sweaty boys. I try not to shudder at the thought. Plus, I can't wait to start studying, not like 'Oh, I'm so exited I can't wait," more like "I can't put this off any longer than I already have because I'm not risking the ability to get a job in the future because I went to a hockey game and didn't study for my finals.'

"Come on, my treat."

As soon as those four words come out of his mouth I want to go. He should be a attorney with that ability to persuade people.

"I, oh, I mean, why not," I awkwardly stutter.

"Yeah, um, give me your number and I'll send you tickets."

He then pulls his phone out of his pocket and, after a few taps, hands it to me. It's open to a new contact page, 'August' already typed at the top, he had to have read the side of my coffee cup. I type my number in and hand it back to him.

"Contact picture?" He questions.

"Oh, totally," I look up and smile. He quickly snaps a picture.

"Gorgeous," He stretches out the vowels when he says it. "I'll text you. Red, white and blue for the game."

I take a mental note of that, "Got it!"

"Bye."

"Bye."

I stumble off. This is a terrible idea, I really have to study, but I also really need more friends. I'm completely off todays schedule, but I might have real fun for the first time in a while. It's gonna be fine, go to the game, you can't plan everything. A text comes in supporting my just-made-decision.

'game starts at 5, doors open at 3:30 but ill be on the ice at 4:30, arena downtown, sending you a ticket now.'

*image file attached*

I open the file to see my ticket, then I open google, search the arena, open the website and enter the seat number listed on the ticket. My screen loads for a second before displaying probably the best view that you can get in the whole arena. I giggle quietly.

He said he'll be on the ice at 4;30. It's 3:08 right now and it takes fifteen minutes to get there and at least fifteen minutes to get to my seat. I need to leave at 3:45 and it takes five minutes to get home. That gives me about 30 minutes to get ready. I need to move quick. I start sprinting back to my apartment.

"That took you forever," Mya, my roommate, yells.

"Uh, yeah, long line. Listen I'm going to a hockey game tonight and need help on what to wear."

"Team colors?" she ask with a smile. She's exited I'm asking her for help.

"red white and blue."

"Oh, easy," She throws a red hoodie at me, "You'll look great."

"Thanks!" I yell why as she struts out of my room.

I through off my black puffer coat. Switch my green hoodie for the red one and keep my black leggings on. Final addition to the outfit is a blue puffer vest.  Then, pull out my phone to check the clock. Ten minutes till I have to leave. I step out of my room into the kitchen and eat a snack

"I'm out," I announce to Mya.

"Have fun!" I get in response.

As I step out of the apartment, into the cold winter weather, the soft buzz of voices, and the snow, I realize that this might be a lot of fun. 

#trevor zegras x reader #nhl #trevor zegras

[yelspyder]

hello sweetie!! :)

i see that you want to talk about so i did come here in your inbox to talk with u! and here's my thought:

i like to think that when you give something handmade to gwen, she keep it somewhere safe and private that no one will know about (not even her dad).

and if you do happen to draw, write songs/poetry or just write letters to her, she is going save on the same place and from time to time she will come back and just to see it all again, remembering how much you do love her and all the love you put in the little things you do for her.

idk what else can i write in here but yk she is just so cute!! (and im very sure that she made a song for you at least once, im right and i know it)

anyways, love u! 💕

— (@tadeumoont from his main account)

Man this scenary is SO cute ଘ(੭ˊ꒳​ˋ)੭ She is so precious ajdjdjdkddmd I can totally see Gwen keeping a little box (with a lock) hidden somewhere in her room just to hold anything you give her. She already values everything you buy her, but when you give her a handmade gift?!?!!? The game is over for Gwen. She's super protective of whatever you've given her, seeming almost paranoid when anyone makes any sign of coming closer. She just appreciates that you took the time and effort, not just money, to give her the gift.

Gwen is definitely keeping a small box somewhere hidden in her room, obviously with a padlock so no one else can get it and consequently damage the gifts, and Gwen's box obviously has a padlock too, with a key she carries hanging from a necklace. When she has to step in as spiderwoman, she makes sure to leave the key in a safe place before going to save the day. If she accidentally lost the key? (which honestly happened many times despite the care she takes) she ends up having to break/pick the old lock with a brick or something and buy a new one, with a new key ofc.

Now, if you have any artistic ability, whether playing an instrument, drawing, etc, she values even more (if that is humanly possible). If it's a drawing, Gwen tucks each drawing carefully inside the box, occasionally taking it out for brief peeks when she misses you, but if you wrote it for her, Gwen will be so happy skdkddcr first, she'll save it somewhere on her phone to make sure she doesn't lose the song, and then she'll definitely rehearse it in secret and then give you a private performance (she would absolutely be saying something like "oh, it's not that good" and "I didn't rehearse much" when this girl literally spent the whole month rehearsing to look cool for you). If it was short love letters or whatever random thing you give her, she would be flattered to get so much pampering from you too. She would 10/10 train to improve her handwriting to be able to write you a letter back to you in impeccable handwriting. Afterwards, you're probably feeling self-conscious seeing her handwriting compared to yours, unaware that her trash can is full of failed attempts.

Anyway, I ended up getting carried away and this is longer than I thought ☠ Gwen is so adorable man

Lov u too <3

#across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #gwen stacy #gwen x reader #gwen stacy x reader #gwen spiderverse

[forerussake]

If it makes you feel better about how you wrote 生日快乐，，龙哥

1) it looks super natural! Which is good. It's easy to read but still looks like a person wrote it, instead of like a machine printing it out

2) it looks a lot like my handwriting, and when I went to china a month ago and filled out my customs form using chinese, the customs officer looked at the writing, and immediately assumed I was Chinese and asked “您是中国人吗？您的爸爸妈妈是中国人吗？” and was v confused when the answer to both was no (he asked why my writing was so good if i wasn't chinese adkfjfk)

So don't even worry about it!! The art is nice (your colour choices are fantastic!!) and your handwriting is fine! It's not bad at all 💖💙💖

Oh anon thank you 🥹🥹🥹 this means a lot to me! I have been nervous about my handwriting for a while, so this is really comforting to hear :)

My teacher back in high school always liked my writing too (though it was a bit unconventional at times and there were habits she was hard-put to make me unlearn xD) but while I’ve since then tried to keep up with and expand my knowledge of the language (slowly, very slowly xD) in other ways, I’m afraid writing has lagged behind. I don’t think I can write half of the things I could anymore and when I attempt writing it always looks more messy to me than I was able to do five years ago. So now I’m always a little self-conscious when I attempt to write in Chinese.

So thank you thank you thank you for your kind words :) It really means a lot to me! And that’s a cool story to be able to tell!! It’s a bit like how my uni profs sometimes assumed I was a native English speaker even though I am very much not one xD BUT COOLER! Thanks for sharing it with me 😊😊

Hope you’re having a very nice day ❤️❤️

#😭❤️😭❤️ thank you anon #response

[rezcowgirl]

I felt really silly admitting I keep a gratitude journal the first few times it's come up. Don't recommend making a habit of caring much what other people think of your journaling habits, but it felt like such a cliche twee thing. Maybe it's in the same category as a "dream board", but I would argue they're less "prosperity gospel"-y, at least?

I've had one for three years now - it's nothing fancy. Just a weekly page in my planner that I fill in once a week with everything I am grateful for and/or made me laugh. There are so many things I would have forgotten forever if I hadn't written them down:

The old man with the umbrella speaking really earnestly to a crow, bending low to be sure the crow could hear him. The teenage boy trying to maneuver giant stick he found with him into the Subway. A "I love you" sticky note written in Aries' almost indecipherable handwriting stuck on the kettle for when I wake up.

I think it has genuinely helped me keep my head on. I am the kind of person that will remember and think about something sad/mean-spirited/etc that I witness forever. I don't do the same brain storage with all the good things, so the journal has helped combat that negative bias. Reading back on my previous entries makes me laugh out loud.

Yesterday I had one for the books, and for my forever memory. It was so, so precious and it feels fake because I have always been, and likely always will be a self-conscious potato. Quick to roll my eyes at compliments - you can't mean ME, right? Right.

I was out with coworkers and ended up being a bit late so I ended up sitting at the head of the table and I hated it and I felt very awkward the whole time. I've worked with most of these folks for nearly 7 years now. They're all really good people. Peers, street nurses, social workers, public health folks. Mostly queer. Honestly, just good people and I feel very fortunate to say that. But, being ME, I'm still awkward and shy when put on the spot, but surely they know that.

As there were 12 of us, multiple discussions were going on. But it got suddenly quiet while I was talking and I looked up and my coworkers at the end of the table were looking at me and I was like "What? What did I do" and everyone began looking at me, and I immediately thought I got food in my hair. But my coworker was like "we were just talking about how pretty you are", and everyone else lit up with them. And I felt so, so weird, but, my friends, I believed them. Another me, a younger me, would have thought they were making fun of me, but I chose to BELIEVE them. And I do. Because they are the kind of people to say good things. I also think they're pretty, and I compliment them all the time. Maybe not so bluntly as "you're pretty", but I try really hard to make people feel good about themselves and let them know I appreciate them.

I'm blushing. Teenage cosmicqt, eat your heart out.

#personal

[always-andromeda]

Hurricane (Johnnie's Theme) for Dwayne Hoover (aged up) please! 🥰

Author’s Note | I would like you to know, anon, that I have thought about this scenario over and over and over and I am finally so glad to have a place to write it out a little bit. lol, mwah, thank you for the request!!

If there's one thing that Dwayne hates about college English classes, it's how much people like to talk in them. So much mindless chatter that ultimately means nothing; contributes to nothing.

That's why you catch his eye. You don't speak up often. And when you do, you say something thoughtful. Something meaningful. And he finds very quickly that he likes the thoughts you decide to share. It makes his mind linger a little away from the literature. Makes him wish he could peruse the contents of your character.

To say you intrigue him is an understatement. He says he'll keep himself from getting too wrapped up. You're just another peer in another one of his stupid classes. The stupid classes he's keeping himself busy with until he decides what the fuck he wants to do with his life. But as long as he's stuck here...there shouldn't be any harm in indulging?

You try not to think too much about the dark haired guy in your English class. He has a way of making you feel like you're being watched all of the time. Even when you're in your dorm, you feel him staring between the lines in your textbook.

He's smart. Incredibly so. And he's cute. And he's very good at making you feel instantly self conscious. Every time you get to hear his smooth, ever so slightly nasally voice, you get nervous. He notices things that you don't. Yet you can tell he's in no hurry to impress the professor.

The way he counters your peers knocks the breath out of you and you're just counting down the days until you're next. You almost flinch explaining your perspective, waiting for him to jump in. That moment never comes. Looking back at where he sits in the corner, he sits with his arms wrapped around himself, leaning back in his seat as if he could hardly be bothered by the discussion.

This is how Dwayne ensures that he can observe everything. From his vantage point, he watches his peers and dissects them in his head; he watches you and wonders why he even cares so much. He barely understands the ache in his chest when class begins one morning and you're strangely missing.

The rational side of his mind tells him that you're just sick. Not a huge deal. He'll see you again another day.

Even though your voice isn't a sound he's well acquainted with, Dwayne finds himself filling in the blanks, imagining what you'd have to say about the reading this week. Maybe it's just a projection of his own thoughts. Maybe it's strange that when he thinks, it's you verbalizing the thought. Either way, he's fixated on you. And before he knows it, he's scrawling out notes with a new purpose. Surely they'll need to know what we talked about.

The week later you walk into class. Eyes bloodshot and nose running, you're obviously still sick. But you can't stand to miss another week.

Your mind is so foggy that you hardly even register his figure beside your seat until he clears his throat.

"Just thought I'd give you my notes." he says under his breath before nodding once and waiting for you to take the stack of lined papers in his hand. The second you hesitantly take them, he's off, striding to his little safe space in the back corner and mentally cursing himself for sounding so ominous.

As messy as his handwriting is, his notes are in depth and vibrant. And aside from the various due dates and key points of the lesson, you notice how much of his own opinions he put into the pages. And fuck, he's even more intelligent than you'd originally figured. This time, it doesn't scare you.

This time, it feels as though you've been let in on a secret. Like these were ideas that he kept guarded under lock and key. Yet you did something special enough to be considered worthy enough to read them. You don't take the gesture lightly. And you hope he intended for that. You hope that he's really as layered as you believe he is.

Plenty of guys love to wax poetic and pretend they're all that. But, Dwayne (you finally learned his name through his handwriting at the top of the first page) actually seems to be all that.

Dwayne doesn't reference other authors in his notes just to show off how many names he knows. He lists them like he has an intimate knowledge of them; like he's sat down with the author over a cup of tea and deciphered the intent of their work. Like he's filed them all away in some part of his brain specifically so he can mention them. You guess that a guy like him has probably been reading for his entire life and that the first week's exercise on how to notate a book was old news to him.

Once you study through them, you almost keep them. You're minutes away from simply stuffing them back into your binder and forgetting about the whole ordeal when you step into class, sights already set on him in the corner again.

Just suck it up. He probably worked hard on these; you can’t just take them.

You stride across the room and put on a hard stare that rivals his own. It falters the moment he looks up at you, hair partially shadowing dark eyes and a pert nose that catches your attention.

He's paler than you remember and suddenly you're convinced that his intelligence is real. Guys that pale don't spend time outside. They curl up inside with a book, shriveling away from the sunlight. How he manages to still look so good is lost on you.

You set the stack down casually as if you hadn't poured over them for hours just the night before, "You really saved me last week. Thanks for these, Dwayne."

Breath snagging in his throat, all he can manage is a weak nod as he looks up at you. And right as you walk away is when he manages to cough up whatever of his nerves keeps him from speaking.

"Do you want to sit over here?"

You squint at him in confusion.

Dwayne adds, "We could swap notes with each other. I think we'd work well together."

You could practically scream at how giddy you feel. To have someone like him validate your intelligence? To offer to help you? To suggest that your ideas have just as much weight as his? Your toes curl up inside your shoes and you try to keep your voice level as you reply, "Sure. That would be helpful."

Dwayne doesn't regret asking you. He wasn't lying when he said he thought you'd work well together. But he thinks he has no clue what you were talking about saying that this would be helpful. Because just the thought of you sitting beside him, knees gently knocking as you both listen to the lecture is far more distracting than when you were on the other side of the room.

But he doesn't mind. He could always use some more practice at studying. Especially if you're going to be next to him.

#strange trails milestone✨ #paul dano #danonation #danocel #little miss sunshine #dwayne hoover #dwayne hoover x reader #dwayne hoover x you #dwayne hoover x y/n #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

[thealterscrolls]

Hey! 'Tis me. I'm here with some numbers for the fic ask; there were so many to pick from and they were all really interesting questions so I couldn't narrow it down to just one. Hope that's okay. Anyway, any of you can answer these, and you can answer as many or as little as you want.

13 (music)

34 (personal life…no pressure to answer this one by the way)

45 (genre/trope)

50 (writing style)

57 (foreshadowing) Good luck with all your writing! :D

helo charlie friend, tysm for the ask! you picked out some banger questions and jakob and i were happy to answer them! without further ado, all of our long winded answers will be below the cut. apologies in advance for the walls of text lol

13. Do you listen to music while you write?  If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

cas: i personally have a hard time writing if the music has words but writing in silence is hard too, so my go to writing music for YEARS has always been anything by Peter Gundry. i used to just listen to his dark magic music compilations on youtube, but now i'll go through his albums on spotify. i'll write to music with words on rare occasion but only if it's a character/fic playlist of songs that remind me of the character or story in some way. i generally don't make those playlists public, but i have found that i put Lord of the Lost in as many playlists as possible to the point that a lot of them are half LOTL songs lol. here's a casual link to my recs playlist for that band lmao.

34. How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

jakob: id say we tend to incorporate a lot, which is funny if i answer on a more personal level because i dont consider myself to have lived that much life at all to be incorporating anything valuable of it. i've only been around in this system a couple months. but regardless of which of us is doing the writing, we all will pull from everyone's experiences. some things just read more viscerally when you have a memory of experience to take notes from. always have to change up details of course. it's like that homework copying meme except the copied stuff looks better than the original thing.

45. What genre/trope do you tend to write the most?

jakob: it's either comedy or it's super angsty drama/romance. rarely inbetween. i think i stick more to the dramatic, angsty stuff though. i havent written anything very humorous. im way too conscious of how much of an endless barrage of sadness my current wip is. i almost feel bad and want to lighten it up a bit lol. meanwhile cas loves writing both emotional shit and extremely stupid cursed goofy shit. they're also that asexual person who has an unnecessary amount of never-to-be-published smutty wips because exploring that kind of stuff is fun to them, but i am the asexual who could not be less interested in being near that kind of thing, much respect to those who are. i dont know enough about tropes to know which ones we write the most.

50. How would you describe your writing style?

jakob: i think i have a fairly literal writing style. they go here. they do that. being "flowery" with descriptions is a conscious effort and unless i get a specific visceral concept or wording in my head, it will just be a pretty straightforward description of events. i imagine the jump from "x does y thing" to "eloquent description of an abstract emotion" might be fairly noticeable. and to be fair, i think it's this way with everyone in the system. i dont think there's any significant difference between our writing styles, including handwriting.

57. How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?

cas: very conscious! it's one of my favorite things about writing fics and often is the basis for a fic concept. i love when writing has little motifs and is self referential AND THE PARALLELS! GOD THE PARALLELS MY BELOVEDS!!! if i cant include a billion parallels in my shit am i even writing? this is honestly a system wide preference too because jakob's writing is like that lol. this is one of the reasons we prefer to write fics completely before posting them so we can sufficiently make sure the parallels work out and things are tied up neatly. but its also the biggest reason we dont really have much posted either </3

#ask game #answered asks #TAS Caspian #TAS Caspian answers #TAS Jakob #TAS Jakob answers #cas: i wanted to give jakob the opportunity to answer so i had to wait a couple days for him to come around but here u go!

[orlafilmblog]

The Performance - Critical Reflection

Over the last few months, I have learned an extraordinary amount about myself and film. I started the semester unsure if I wanted to continue making films. I was doubting my passion and I just didn’t care anymore. This upset me greatly as I used to be so sure that filmmaking was what I wanted to do. I knew that whatever project I worked on, I had to give it my all. I had to give film one last chance and I had to try to reignite my love for it. To do this, I knew I had to create something I was passionate about, and I had to work with people equally as passionate as me. This is where The Performance came from.

I would like to reiterate first that the team I had around me are some of the best and most talented individuals I have ever met. I feel so lucky to have had the privilege to work with everyone. I have made a more in depth post on my blog about each crew member that tries to encapsulate this.

Looking at the final film, I cannot help but be proud of it. There are definite flaws that I will address, but first I want to discuss what I feel went well. Without taking the final product into consideration, I felt I was able to run a very open and productive set. This will be best told by other members of the crew, but I feel I kept a level head throughout the shoot and that communication was always strong. I was very aware how my own actions and mood would affect the whole set, so even when things became stressful I tried to remain positive. I tried to ensure each department was listened to and given enough time, as well as focusing on the actors, their needs, and their performances. Feedback I have been told by the crew has been all positive and has really reassured me in my own ability to direct.

Throughout the whole process from pre through to post production I am pleased with my direction. I cannot think of a single decision we made as a group that was unmotivated. I put thought into every tiny element of this film from the intricacies of the blocking to the music choice for the club to the pictures on Marie’s bedroom wall. This is why the only criticism I would debate was the comments on the changing style/tonal shifts throughout the film. These were very intentional and had been planned from the start. The film on one level is about finding universal connection, and on another level it is about the male gaze and its impact on how women see ourselves and others. I wanted the shift in tone to replicate a shifting gaze. The first section was how Marie viewed herself through the male gaze (only seeing her body in the mirror, referencing Lacan’s mirror theory/Laura Mulvey’s writings in Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema). The club scene was an extension of this same male gaze, but it was to show how it impacts women’s actions (sexualisation of self/Jess’ character is biphobic to Marie because men have influenced her way of thinking). The club scene is also a representation of the contradictive nature of the gaze – there is pleasure in being looked-at yet a self-conscious insecurity. The third section of the film shifts during the dialogue scene to an active female gaze (we don’t see Adinah as whole until Marie reaches out to her and actively tries to change her way of looking/the final shot is from Adinah’s POV to show the full change to loving female gaze). I am aware that NONE of this is apparent and all in my head, so the conflict in styles may just come across as messy. However, I felt it was important to explain the intention behind it. The crew and actors were aware of all of this as well and it helped them to understand the film as a whole. (I would encourage you to try and decipher my messy handwriting in the photos of The Performance Bible on my blog)!

I was pleased with the performances the actors and I achieved. Millie is a joy to work with, and someone I have worked with since I was 15. This was my first time feeling like I was actually directing her. It was amazing. I really enjoyed directing Alix and Rosie as well. I felt in our rehearsals we achieved a better performance than on set, which is my own fault as I feel I got too distracted about time and other issues when shooting. In the future I would like to incorporate far more rehearsal time before the shoot.

I agreed with the majority of the criticism the film received. It is far from perfect. I agree that the club scene didn’t quite come together narratively – a bit too much chaos to understand exactly what was going on. I think this was for a few reasons, however the main one was shooting on the day I felt my directing was the most lacking. I was pleased with how I worked with the actors, however I should have taken a few minutes to myself to remind myself what this scene had to achieve. I forgot to include some important aspects of the script that I think would have allowed more story to come into the edit. This was poor preparation on my part but a great learning experience of how to deal with such an intense and busy set. I think the sound for the club scene needs remixed slightly as I know there was a track with people talking in the space under the music, and the bass-y drone build up wasn’t as apparent as I would have liked. Also, in regard to sound, I would love to revisit the dialogue scene with James. Due to not great sound recording conditions, James had to work with what he had. I should have noticed this earlier and scheduled some ADR for this scene. For me, I get completely taken out of the film when I hear the different atmos tracks coming in and out and the dialogue isn’t very clear. If I were to send this anywhere, I would definitely want this redone.

Kate mentioned that the queerness of the film wasn’t obvious until half way through the conversation outside. We did have LGBT+ flags in the club, but I think they got lost in the abstractness of the shots. We also originally had a few inserts of Marie’s room at the start which was filled with queer things, but we cut these for time. Kate also mentioned that she felt the ‘spotlight’ scene didn’t fit. In hindsight, I agree with this. I fought in the edit to keep it in, and we chose it over another shot of Marie standing back and looking at herself in the mirror. I regret my decision now, the other shot was better and matched the tone of the film more. I did like Andrew’s suggestion of making it non-linear. I don’t think this is something I would commit to, but it is something I would like to play around with if Bonnie was up for doing a completely different edit! I also agree that the make-up sequence at the start should have been longer. It is my favourite sequence because I feel the cinematography, editing, sound, and performance all come together. We were really pushing the 6 minutes though and had to keep it short.

The feedback from the class was really helpful and appreciated. Ben McMorran mentioned how hard Lucy had worked as producer, and I think she definitely undersold how much work she has done for this project. A few people mentioned the production design – Katie did an amazing job and I feel I was able to support her well. I visited my parents and went through my old room, sending her photos of things I would like to be in Marie’s room. Then she could give it the all clear if she felt it worked. A lot of her work wasn’t on screen, but it helped the whole crew and cast understand the character and space. Alex Caldow liked the 3 separate styles but agreed that the club scene lacked clarity. Jenny mentioned she wanted to hear more sound, and she felt the dialogue was getting lost outside. This reinforced my want to fix this. John said it was clear that we had worked well together as a team, which really meant a lot to me because I feel we have.

Overall I am proud of what I have accomplished. This was my first time properly directing on the course, and it almost destroyed me, but I loved it. I was thinking about this film every waking moment for months, and for it to be over (for now) feels very weird. Again, I am so proud of everyone that contributed to this film and eternally grateful. I learned so much about the films I want to make and the people I want to work with, and I also learned a lot about myself. Most importantly, I have reignited my passion for filmmaking.

#film project

[more-than-a-princess]

“Ah… happy birthday, my sweet. I-I thought about what to give you, but in the end, I realized you could already afford anything I might buy, so I decided to write you a poem.” For once, Kensuke was looking a bit flustered as he slides over the yellow ornate stationary paper with his neat handwriting on it. Honestly enough, he worked very hard on it, so if Sonia ends up not liking the poem, then he might actually just die a little on the inside.

Granted, he was told he had a knack for poetry, but still, it wasn’t often Kensuke allowed others to read anything beyond his song lyrics, so he couldn’t help suddenly feeling self conscious. “Please don’t read it out loud, though! It would honestly just be embarrassing, hearing you recite it.”

Sonia's Birthday 2022! - Accepting asks and threads from mutuals

It wasn't like him, to be nervous and uncertain. In general, but especially around her: Kensuke was more prone to teasing than stammering, and his girlfriend made for a willing and all-too-easy target for it. Not that Sonia terribly minded: he keenly observed the world and responded, often with a dirty thought or sense of humor that made her laugh. If it had been anyone else, she likely would've been disgusted, but it was Kensuke: he was witty, he was discreet, and most importantly, she loved him. Something she reminded him as often they could or found the time to indulge in each other.

But upon his awkward admission, Sonia closed the book she'd been reading and set it aside with a concerned expression. "Kensuke-kun," She told him gently as he slid the paper in her direction, "the cost of the gift doesn't matter, certainly you know that. Besides, anything from you would be priceless to me. Something you composed, lyrical or musical, is even more special."

She gestured for him to join her on the sofa: for once, she hadn't 'borrowed' one of his jumpers, using the opportunity to curl up against him instead as she read something even more interesting than a horror novel. As much as she enjoyed her frights and scares, listening to what resided in Kensuke's heart was far more important to her. "I promise I won't read it out loud," She assured him, "But I don't want to read it alone. After all: how many people can say that Kensuke Hibiki has composed something especially for them, and from his heart at that?"

It didn't take her long to read, but Sonia still savored every word, written with a flourish on Kensuke's preferred stationery. And when she was done, she carefully set the paper aside (she'd press it between pages of a scrapbook later: it was how she'd keep it without embarrassing him. He'd likely put his foot down at framing it) before pulling him close in a hug. 

"Thank you," She murmured against him before giving him a soft kiss, letting it linger before pulling away just enough to continue what she needed to say. "I love it. It's the best present I could've asked for today: your love for me, just as I am."

#more-than-a-princess answered #spurnedadulthood #Non-Despair AU: The Princess of Novoselic #(A surprise return from our favorite gremlin!) #(Who is being very not-gremlin like today) #(But Sonia loves her gift. And him. Very much) #(Hopefully just this once he'll let her pull him into the hug and not the other way round) #(Sonia has decided affection is needed!) #(It would be cruel to refuse her on her birthday right?)

[pure-kirarin]

One piece x reader : Reading a letter where you praise them

Thanks for your request ! @softiebadbitch​

Z O R O 

Bold of you to assume that this man can read

He was looking for you. He walks into your room but you were already in the shower. He decides to lay on the bed while waiting for you. 

A bunch of papers on the night stand catch his attention. He takes one to look at it but then sees that it’s a letter to your mother.

He wasn’t going to continue reading but he sees that his name is written in the second paragraph. 

His eyes narrow, he starts reading out-loud, damn, your handwriting is really bad, he thinks. 

“I found the one...I am so happy to have him in my life. It’s true that he is a bit moody, gets lost everywhere and sleeps all the time-”

Moody ? Gets lost ? Sleeps all the time ? He frowns. “I don’t get lost, that nonesense..tsk..” 

“But he is the sweetest person ever. And he is so strong !! One day he will become the strongest swordsman in the world. Mom if you just saw him when he uses his three-swords style...I feel like a kid, he is just so badass!”

Zoro blushes when he reads these words and brings the paper a bit closer to his chest. Damn you. You’re making him all soft. 

You weren’t too verbal with your thoughts so it was the first time that he read such words. He felt extremely moved by how you believed in him. 

It awakened something really vulnerable and warm within him. Zoro, it’s called an emotion. 

At this moment you go out of the shower.

“What are you-- ZORO. You..You didn’t read that ?” 

“So I am “moody” I “get lost everywhere” and “I sleep all the time” huh ?”“

He read the compliment part out loud while you put your hands on your ears, embarrassed about what you wrote.

“Thanks though...” he would mumble that in an almost inaudible voice. Deep down, it really makes him happy. 

S A N J I 

He opens your underwear drawyer “I swear, I am just going to take a look, (Y/N)-chawn wouldn’t mind, we are dating after all..”

He finds the letter to your mother and it peaks his curiosity. Huh ? Why would you hide a letter in such a place ? He opens it and starts reading. 

“Last time you have asked me whether I knew someone...Well. I met this man. And he is the most wonderful person that I have encountered.” 

Huh ? who is that bastard ? He frowns. 

“He is a real gentleman, gentle and very loving. He makes me feel like a goddess. His name is Sanji. I will send you a picture of us next time.”

“Oh that was me-”, his heart starts racing and his eyes feel like tearing up. He knew that you were his soulmate. He feels really proud to have someone like you in his life. 

“Sometimes I feel a little insecure with him, because I am scared of losing him to another woman. He is just so perfect-”

Just at this moment you enter in your room and discover Sanji in front of your open panties-drawyer, reading your letters.

“(Y/N)-chan ! I can explain ! I wasn’t looking at your underwear--”

You were more embarrassed by the fact that he was reading your letter. You snatch it out of his hands and hide it back in the drawyer. You ask shyly “Did..you read it ?” 

He hugs you lovingly from the back and ruffles your hair gently. “You don’t need to be self conscious angel. You are the only one for me. No other woman can compete with you. You wrote such cute things. I love you.” 

L A W 

At first he thinks that it’s an essay that you want him to proof-chek for you. He starts reading and circles all the mistakes in red. 

“It’s full of scribbling, jeez, even a toddler writes better.” 

He then understands that it’s a “real” letter to your mom. “God, she really needs to rewrite it. She can’t be sending something full of grammar mistakes to her mother.” “That’s adorable though”. 

He gets to this part “So I met a man...He is a surgeon. He is really smart and helps me a lot. Mom I think that if you met him, you would fall for him too !” 

He wonders what kind of relationship you have with your mother. 

“He looks stoic but he is warm inside, I would give him my life if I could. I think that I am truly in love this time. He stole my heart.” 

How could you be such a romantic ? He blushes and hides his face in his hands. When you get in the room you start wondering what’s with him. 

“I was going through your essays for you and...I read this.” He gives you the letter.

“Wait ?? Did you just...correct my spelling mistakes on my LETTER ? Law!

- your grammar is really terrible (Y/N)-ya...and about the...compliments...you can’t send this to your mother. It’s really cliché.”

You would feel offended and turn your back to him, however, he would take your arm and hug you from behind. He would whisper something like “I appreciate the intention though, it was cheesy, but really adorable.” 

This would melt your heart. 

He would make you re-write the letter with a clean handwriting after correcting your mistakes. 

You don’t know it, but Law keeps the first letter, the one that is full of scribbles and mistakes...He reads it from time to time to cheer him up. “

#one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece #roronoa zoro x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #one piece imagines

[valberryy]

good god, let me give you my life. — kaeya

another converted oc fic!!!! yes i have many kaeya thoughts....... and i missed this oc in particular QAQ anyways please accept this word vomit its like 2k words im sorry idk what possessed me

pairing: kaeya x fem!reader

content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries + alcohol, light swearing (like, three instances max)

Kaeya had seen that doe-eyed look countless times before, but there was still something about the way your gaze burned almost incredulously into his own that made his smirk grow wider.

"Kaeya, you asshole!" you exclaimed, but your half-exasperated anger just made him laugh—by the Seven, you were even more fun to tease than Diluc! 

"What's the rush?" he laughed, ignoring your hand on his chest to balance herself as you tiptoed to where he was holding your Vision right out of your reach. "Is widdle [Name] so scared of—"

You elbowed him in the gut at that, and his grip on your Vision wavered as he let out a pained oof. You pinned it back to where it normally hung, and a glance at your clothes—the buttoned up coat, the bags placed haphazardly on the ground next to your boots—was all it took for the lucidity to return to Kaeya's eyes.

"The others are waiting," you muttered, gaze downcast and cheeks flushed from the cold. Kaeya nodded. Wordlessly, you grabbed his hands and squeezed, ever so gently.

"I promise we'll come back to visit," you said. "And I'll write a lot."

Kaeya nodded again, a devious grin pulling at his lips but faltering at the edges. "When you do come back I'll ask Master Crepus to throw a party and I'll read out your letters for everyone to hear—"

"You—!"

"...So come back safe, okay?"

A sigh, then, and another light squeeze of his hands. 

"I promise."

With that, Kaeya finally let you go—and already missing the warmth of your palms and the fleetingness of your touch, he watched as your back disappeared off into the horizon.

Kaeya often found himself waiting, those days, to the point that he might have called himself distracted if he hadn't known any better. The smile that graced his lips at each letter—which always started with your and your brother's neat handwriting, with little comments from your sister sprinkled all throughout, and sealed with some local flower or other—never failed to go unnoticed, to the point that even Diluc found himself sighing at the sight.

"You're an idiot," he had said, and nothing else.

Each year your visits had become a staple of summer, and for days on end Master Crepus' manor was filled with foreign music and dance. Kaeya never read out your letters like he said he would, but you two would always sneak out of the party with a bottle of champagne, and you would whisper gossip to each other like you always used to, conspiratory and scheming.

(Once, just as a laugh was about to spill from his lips, you placed your palm over the lower half of his face and kissed the back of your hand. "I thought you were bolder than that," he teased, and with a scoff you plucked the bottle from his hands.

"Oh? I'd like to see you do better, lover boy.")

One year the letters stopped, and you never came to visit. Winter came all too soon. The calla lilies in your last letter had begun to wilt.

The next year, he and Diluc parted ways. As their swords clashed for the last time, he wished it was your flames that had scorched him instead.

Two years hence, the Knights of Favonius found a young woman, half-conscious and all but bleeding out, under the tree at Windrise.

Kaeya had stopped in his tracks when he heard, his silver tongue going dry behind the calm smile he put on. "Thanks for the news," he told his subordinate. "I'll check it out."

As soon as he was alone, he let the panic sink in.

His walk to the cathedral was exceedingly brief, and Kaeya wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing. As he walked towards the infirmary he heard Barbara's voice—

"...but do you remember anything else?"

A pause, then a blunt, "No."

—And as he walked inside he saw the deaconess with her tome, and a little ways behind her was...you. You seemed a little pale and worse for wear, but when you looked at him with the same doe-eyed look as before, Kaeya couldn't help but feel the slightest bit relieved.

"You really worried me back there, love," he said smoothly. "How are you feeling now?"

You glanced almost unnoticeably at Barbara, who seemed to mouth something along the lines of, "Later."

"Alive, I guess," you responded, then paused for a good moment as you glanced at him fully. Kaeya raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry…" you said, "It's just that I've heard so much about you, but—"

But what? he thought, and felt his blood run cold again.

"—I have no idea who you are."

—

Kaeya thought it the worst of cruelties for you to be so similar to your old self, yet so wholly, horribly different. You walked with the same languid grace, spoke with the same haughtiness and pride, still tapped your teaspoon against the rim of your teacup—three times, every single time, with a resounding chime.

But you no longer looked at him the same, no longer laughed at his old jokes, no longer called him by his name. It was always captain or sir, and never what he so desperately longed to hear.

"You Knights are always so ineffective," Diluc sighed, and for the first time in years the Ragnvindr brothers finally found themselves in agreement.

Kaeya laughed self-pityingly, running one hand through his hair and using the other to swirl the contents of his half-empty glass. Another sigh, and just as he was about to speak again, the door to Angel's Share opened to the sound of laughter.

"Venti, I said no—"

"Oh, come on! All you've been doing is reading that journal of yours! I thought you—"

There was an indignant, ungraceful sounding yell, and the rest of Venti's words were muffled by what Kaeya assumed was your hand. You two whispered together some more—he even thought he heard you threaten him, if he wasn't mistaken—and with your defeated sigh, Venti began to tune his lyre.

Ah, you was going to dance, then. 

Kaeya turned in his seat to the point where he could watch them from the corner of his vision, taking another drink from his steadily-emptying glass. With gentle hands, the bard began to pluck at his lyre strings, and with the same practiced, precise movements he committed so dearly to memory, your body began to sway.

He knew this one—it started off slowly, gently, only to speed up as the music did as well. One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three-four, went your heels against the wooden floor, and as the song ended and you bowed with a haughty flourish, Kaeya had abruptly stood up and left the tavern.

Your steps were light against the cobblestone when you caught up with him, that same night.

"Captain," you said, "you've been avoiding me."

He turned around to face you, a practiced smile on his lips. He couldn't look you in the eyes, though, no matter how intensely your gaze burned into him. "Oh? What might you be doing out so late, Miss [Surname]?" 

You sighed, placing a hand on your hip. "You knew me before, right? That's why you keep running away?"

Kaeya's tongue went dry as he heard you speak. Ah, what does he say to this? He watched you sigh again, but this time you brought out the musty old journal that he knew hung from your waist.

You held it out to him expectantly, but he didn't take it.

"...We knew each other," he eventually replied, soft and without any of his normal bravado. "We were…close."

Your face remained impassive, but there was a glint in your eyes that gave your suspicion away. "...I see," you said. "Then…I want to start again. I can't be the person you knew before, but…"

It was Kaeya who sighed this time, endearingly. "You really haven't changed," he said, before holding out a hand for you to shake. "Allow me to reintroduce myself, then. Kaeya Alberich, at your service."

You smiled, and he felt his heart flutter and ache alike at the sight. Taking his hand, you said, "[Name] [Surname]…a pleasure it is to finally know you, Kaeya."

—

Whenever dusk fell, Kaeya would often find you at one of the many taverns littered throughout the city, but your favourite seemed to be the Angel's Share, of all places. If you weren't dancing along to whatever tune the bard was singing, you were often talking with Diluc from the opposite end of the bar, sipping from your glass of wine. 

And whenever Kaeya would walk in you would turn to him and raise your glass in greeting, crowing something or other about coincidence, and he would say something or other about fate; and then you would drink together as his brother grew increasingly exasperated at the volume. 

One evening, he had lost track of how many rounds he had when his head began to grow fuzzy. He was only half-conscious of Charles' sigh, and you saying something along the lines of, "I'll bring him home."

With practiced ease—likely from your time hanging around with that drunkard bard—you lifted him up and slung his arm around your shoulders, struggling a bit from his height. "C'mon, captain, let's get you home," you said, to which he merely nodded and buried his face in the warmth of the crook of your neck.

"Y'know, it was always you getting wasted like this," he drawled. "Master Crepus used to—! He used to always scold us for stealing wine, but you were always half passed out so you never heard any of it."

You looked down, seemingly deep in thought. "It sounds like we were very close," you said, and he chuckled and hummed in the affirmative. 

He began rambling again as you made the short walk to his house, continuing even as you dug through his pockets for his keys. How he still reads your letters, how you made fun of his eyepatch the very first time he wore it, how you two used to climb the tree at Windrise, hoping always, in vain, to somehow reach the highest bough. If he were less shitfaced and more sober perhaps he would have found it in himself to stem the waterfall of words spilling from his lips—honest and raw in a way neither of you were used to—but as it stood, all he could have done was bare his heart to you like this.

You were silent as you laid him down on his bed, mumbling more to yourself than to anyone else, "You need to drink water, Kaeya."

The silence between you hung heavy like a body on the gallows. 

"I really loved you, you know."

Another pause, then, and then the soft caress of your palm against his cheek, and the lightest brush of your lips against his forehead.

"...Good night, Kaeya."

The next day, Kaeya woke up with the worst bitch of a migraine he's ever had in his life. As he rose to get a glass of water, he suddenly became aware of several things: firstly, the fact that he was a fucking idiot; second, the fact that he needs to get black-out drunk less often; and third, the fact that you were lying asleep on his couch, your journal in one hand and your other arm hanging off the side.

He sighed, placing down the empty glass, and walked over to you—and with your same gentleness from the night before, Kaeya brushed aside your bangs to press a kiss to your forehead.

—

"Snrk—you what?"

"Oh, yes, and then after that Jean said—"

You cut off the rest of his story by shoving a piece of meat in his mouth, and when Kaeya managed to swallow it he was met with the sight of your smug smile and your eyes still bleary from laughing. 

"There's no way all of that happened because of a rabbit," you said, to which he laughed good-naturedly, followed by a sip from his glass of wine.

"You'd be surprised what kinds of things Klee can get herself into."

You laughed again, and he took another drink of wine. Ah, he missed this, he thought. Missed the way the breeze here at Windrise smelled of asters, missed the way the moonlight trickled down through the leaves of the giant tree. 

(Most of all, he missed the little way your nose would crinkle when you laughed, but he'd prefer not to say that aloud, lest he be hit over the head with the wine bottle he brought along today—amnesia or not, he knew very well it was still within your strength to do so.)

Kaeya watched as you closed your eyes to enjoy the evening breeze, your hair like a wildfire in the breeze. You looked at him then, your eyes heavy with a certain lucidity that he couldn't name, but still managed to shake him somehow.

"...I'm in love with you, Kaeya."

When he smirked and said, "So I get to brag that I made you fall for me twice?" he was met with the same indignant, doe-eyed glare from all those years ago.

"I'm being serious!" you exclaimed, but he only laughed again, and covered your mouth with the palm of his hand. Before you could protest again, he kissed the back of his own hand and pulled away, a cheeky grin on his lips.

"Where'd all that bravado go, Mr. Casanova?"

Kaeya was hit with a pang of nostalgia, then. He looked at you, cheeks lightly flushed from the cold breeze and embarrassment alike, and his smile only widened further.

"Hmm? Think you can do any better, dearest?"

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya x reader #bee writes

[sunnyoldbear]

I’m no artist but all I think about is Luca so here are my headcanons for them when they’re older!

Luca:

As I said in a previous post, he gets a bit thicker as he grows since his whole family is on the thicker side and he’s very skinny.

His tail gets longer as he gets older and he’s like a little kitty with it. When he’s in the water, he sleeps on his stomach with it curled completely around him. He also wraps his tail around Alberto and Giulia at times if there’s ever a time where it’s raining or something when they’re in the surface.

He’s the shortest of the trio and he hates that with every fiber of his being. Neither of them let him forget it.

He loves space more than the movie lets on, and that’s saying something. He has read almost every book he can find on it and he rambles about it every day.

He is still pretty clumsy and his arms always have a few bruises or scrapes on them. He likes putting colorful bandaids on his cuts because he likes the colors.

He loves helping Giulia’s mom with painting! Not just modeling for her, but just painting with her or learning. It reminds him of Alberto. He’s not… good at it, but he loves it.

Oh he loves dogs. He’s still a little scared of cats after Machiavelli, but Nerone is his baby and he would do anything for that little pup.

Has a massive sweet tooth!

As expected, he loves learning about Vespas and how they work and everything. He does his research and writes letters to Alberto about the best books to read about Vespas to ensure they buy or make the very best one.

He’s always moving, just can’t sit still. He’s always bouncing his knee or kicking his legs or drumming his fingers. He just can’t help it. (He’s neurodivergent yes, but this is the 50s so…)

Still has very fishy sayings that no one but him, his family, and Alberto understand.

Can ramble for hours about the sea and how he can relate it to space. He still loves water and tends to list the names of his goatfish under his breath when he’s stressed to calm himself down. He still misses wrangling them, but he is so happy that he’s free.

Spends hours working on his handwriting because he doesn’t like how messy it is. He wants it to be perfect.

He’s very self conscious about most human things he does. The only thing he isn’t self conscious about is his swimming abilities, but he hides it pretty well. He’s most self conscious about his intelligence, or lack thereof. He’s meant to be at Giulia’s level of intelligence but since he was raised in the ocean, he knows next to nothing and so he has to work extra hard to get good grades. He stresses a lot about it and sobs if he gets a bad grade.

He’s a surprisingly good cook. It just relaxes him.

He loves flowers and learned how to make flower crowns.

He also loves collecting seashells he finds because it reminds him of home.

Like many agree, he is terrified of bugs, but he could never hurt one.

He’s very emotional, but that’s canon so.

His letters to Alberto are typically very long and full of emotions and things about his day, as well as random things. He doesn’t mind Alberto’s shorter letters, and he saves them in a box under his bed.

Every time he sees Alberto again he practically tackles him in a hug. The first time, both of them fell straight to the floor and were bruised for days.

He loves stuffed animals. Since it’s not “manly” to keep them, he gets them “for Giulia” and then puts them on his bed. (Modern day, he wouldn’t give a damn and just get them for himself)

Gets flustered super easily, as we see in canon. Be it an innocent romantic comment or a nice compliment, he goes super red and embarrassed, stumbling over his words.

Still says “silenzio Bruno” before he does anything he’s nervous to. Some kids at school are confused about it but he’s more confused at their confusion. How do they not know what a Bruno is? Isn’t it a human thing?

Loves to annotate his books. Associates certain books/book quotes with the people he loves and will give them those books or repeat the quote to them.

Though Genova is much more accepting than Portorosso, he is still bullied pretty badly when Giulia isn’t around, and sometimes even when she is. He pretends nothing happens or that it doesn’t bother him, but it does. It bothers him so, so much. Alberto can see right through him with ease and is there to remind him that everything is okay and he’s still loved. It helps, but not as much as Alberto thinks it does.

Even with the bullying, Luca loves school so, so much. That being said, he loves summer and being in Portorosso more.

Does that “look me in the eyes. You know I love you right?” thing he and his mother do to everyone he loves.

Alberto:

There is nothing he loves more than harassing Giulia. Being her brother, he loves to tease her, but will fight anyone who does the same.

Once decked Ercole. Got in trouble but Massimo secretly gave him a high five.

Cleaned up the island and erased the tallies he made for his father. He put some of Giulia’s fairy lights in there and has a few extra pillows, books in every corner and drawings all across the tower. He still has a lot of his human artifacts, but most of them are gone since he needs money for a Vespa.

His new tally board has “Reunion” scrawled at the top and its for waiting for his sister and best friend to return home.

Loves being a lifeguard.

Is super close to Machiavelli now and even adopted a stray to be his friend. Or uh… more than a friend, considering the big litter the cat soon fathered.

Alberto named all the kittens after fish.

He always draws things for Luca and eagerly waits his arrival.

Also has a massive sweet tooth, bigger than Luca’s.

Stores Luca’s letters away under his bed.

He and Massimo made Giulia’s hideout a proper treehouse and it’s now a study spot.

Has tons of books about Vespas. Massimo taught him to read and write.

He’s more self confident about his “human expertise” since he does it his own way.

One of the messiest eaters I swear to god-

Doesn’t care much about space, but he’ll listen to Luca ramble about it for hours without complaint.

Doesn’t really have anything he’s super interested in other than Vespas like how Luca likes space, but I might change my mind about that.

Loves watermelon!

His recklessness causes him to have as many bruises and scrapes as Luca’s clumsiness does, but he doesn’t care about putting bandaids on.

Alberto’s letters are pretty short but great!

Definitely bottles things up until he can’t anymore but he’s trying to get better.

Part of him feels guilty about catching and eating fish, but it’s hinted seamonsters eat fish so I’m accepting that as canon and saying he feels slightly less guilty about it. Definitely enjoys pasta more.

Loves the snow, especially when it means snowball fights. (Definitely throws them as hard as he can at Ercole. Son of a bitch deserves it.)

Oh yeah, he swears now. He’s heard a few swears around while making deliveries around the year and catches on. He makes a few of his own, too.

He just makes up words of his own as well as phrases. He doesn’t just convince Luca to say them. He convinces Massimo & Giulia as well as Luca’s fam. It’s a big, fun inside joke.

Loves turning into a sea monster and acting silly to make the kids around town smile.

Honestly he just loves being a sea monster. It’s great to be him. He feels free. It’s not as good a feeling as being on a Vespa, but it’s something.

He stares longingly at every Vespa he sees.

He probably named that girl cat Vespa or some variation of now that I think of it.

Giulia:

I see a lot of headcanons of her with glasses and I gotta say I love it! So, glasses Giulia!!!

Tallest of the three! Alberto hates her for it but she loves it.

She actually takes after her father more than she does her mother, contrary to popular belief.

Though she loves space, after her meeting with the boys, she’s thinking of marine biology. She stays up late every night researching everything aquatic. She constantly asks the boys about sea things and visits in that diver suit whenever she can.

She bullies Alberto as often as he bullies her. Their play fights look so aggressive that people think they’re actually trying to kill each other.

She’s constantly torn between chopping off all her hair or letting it grow out. She settles on leaving it medium length and tie it up.

A very yellow person! It’s everywhere. She loves it so much! The color of happiness, baby.

She’s the first to call Alberto part of the family, saying in a letter that her school wants to meet her brother. She got a letter from Massimo saying Alberto sobbed upon reading it.

Loves to paint with her mom but thinks bike riding is better. She loves that bike.

Harasses Alberto to put a sidecar on his Vespa for her. (Inspired by a drawing by aishimation on Instagram!)

Though she adore her mother, she’s a daddy’s girl and loves him so much.

Can and will punch anyone who calls her brother and her best friend a monster straight in the jaw

Hates her school uniform

Will also pour water all over Alberto just to piss him off

Summertime? I think you mean “training for the Portorosso Cup and also attack Alberto and Luca with a hose for a few months”

She loves to dance

Wants to get tattoos when she’s older

Very much a feminist and doesn’t care how much trouble she gets in for voicing what she knows is right

---

More on the way probably. These dumb gay Italian fish and their ginger friend is all I think about dhdhjdhdvdh

#pixar luca #luca movie #luca paguro #alberto scorfano #giulia marcovaldo #massimo marcovaldo #luca #Pixar

[bakamoonshine]

Strawberries, Sunflowers, and Lemon Pie

Summary: Draco smells you, a Hufflepuff student’s, scent in Amortentia and realizes he’s in love with you. But not before he freaks out a little bit.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Swearing, OOC (soft boi Draco), mentions of food, and fluff

A/N: Thank you @brokengirl13002 for requesting this! I hope you like it and it’s super fluffy and cute and everything you could ever hope for lol xx.

 Third Person POV

           Draco huffed as he continued to stir his potion. He wasn’t sure if it was coming together perfectly, but as he added the next ingredient, his mouth turned up at the corners, feeling confident. ’Amortentia’ he scoffed to himself, ‘What a stupid potion. Who needs a love potion to make someone fall in love with them? Pathetic.’ As Draco continued to stir his potion evenly, he looked up to see his best friend Y/N, very obviously struggling with her potion. Whenever he saw Y/N, he felt his facial features soften, her clumsy tendencies lightening his mood – he supposed that’s why they were such good friends. His sharp personality was balanced out by her soft one, making a very cohesive relationship where each person was what the other wasn’t.

Once Draco added the very last ingredient and finished stirring his potion, he knew he’d executed the recipe perfectly. The mother-of-pearl sheen described in Advanced Potion Making was present in his potion, and the tendrils of steam rising from it were exactly as they should be. Suddenly a scent hit his nose. ‘Strawberries, sunflowers, and lemon pie’ he thought to himself. ‘Where do I recognize that scent from?’ He couldn’t put his finger on the smell – right up until he looked at Y/N again. ‘Shit…Y/N loves lemon pie…’ Draco opened his mouth to say something, then realized that would be a terrible idea. He had almost just inadvertently revealed what he smelled in the love potion. Draco slammed his potion book shut, grabbing Snape’s attention. Snape swished over towards his table, looking into his cauldron, and nodding appreciatively.

After taking a sample of the potion, Snape brusquely says “10 points to Slytherin. You may go, Mr. Malfoy.” Draco nods his head, relieved that he could escape to his dormitory for a few minutes to process the information he just discovered. Y/N tries to catch his eye while he quickly gathers up his supplies, but Draco studiously avoids her gaze, making Y/N feel a bit concerned. He rushes out of the dungeon, walking swiftly to the Slytherin common room before anybody can stop him. ‘When did I start feeling like this about Y/N?’ he wondered to himself, panic rising in his system. ‘What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I ruin the friendship somehow?’ Draco could feel his blood pressure rising just thinking about the time the two of you spend together. He specifically remembers one perfect memory.

The two of you sitting by the black lake, studying together. Y/N was leaning against a tree, and Draco had his head in her lap. Y/N was running her fingers through Draco’s platinum blonde hair, massaging his scalp gently. Draco had felt his eyes get heavy, the sun shining in his face and warming his whole body. ‘No’ he thought to himself, interrupting himself mid-memory. ‘It wasn’t the sun that made me feel warm. It was Y/N’s smile. I know it. That’s when I fell in love with her, I suppose. In that moment.’ After thinking about the one perfect memory, Draco’s resolve hardened. He knew exactly what he was going to do, a confident smirk growing on his angular face. He continued walking through the castle, completely unaware that Y/N was about to crash into him.

 Y/N’s POV

           Watching Draco walk away from me, my heart sank a little bit. My best friend in the whole world had just walked away from me, clearly upset, and didn’t seem like he wanted anything to do to me. I swiftly dumped out my cauldron full of potion, too preoccupied to notice the faint scent of mint and green apples. As I packed up my supplies, finally having finished my potion about ten minutes after Draco, I hastily fled the dungeon and made my way towards the Hufflepuff common room. I was looking down at my feet, feeling self-conscious, when suddenly, I ran into something solid. I looked up and the first thing I saw were those beautiful light grey eyes. Draco. My breath hitched in my throat, confused as to why I would be so nervous around him all of a sudden. The smile on his face when he sees me makes my heart melt, my cheeks heating up, and then heating up even more once I realize I’m blushing at the thought of my best friend. ‘Oh my Merlin, I like him. Why did I have to realize this now? Ugh why does he look so cute?’

           Draco takes a breath, obviously about to say something, his hands fidgeting with his tie. Merlin, he looked so attractive. His white-blonde hair was slightly tousled, like he’d run his hands through it absentmindedly, and his pale face had a beautiful flush to it, like he’d sprinted up a flight of stairs. My gaze dropped to his lips, pink and slightly parted as he searched for the right words. His face began to get more flushed, his hand rising up to his face as his tongue darted out between his lips, which were begging for moisture. You waited for him to speak, intrigued by what could possibly have him so flustered. Had you been talking out loud to yourself about how cute you thought he was? There was no way, he would’ve had some snarky comment to say to you.

           “Draco, what is it?” you ask impatiently. You could see him getting more flustered by the minute, and you had to be honest, you were kind of enjoying it. Were you the reason he was getting flustered? Suddenly, the puzzle pieces clicked in your head. Draco smelled me in the Amortentia. You blushed, realizing he was trying to ask you on a date.

           “I was…just going to ask how you think that potion went for you?” Draco finally asked, lamely. Clearly that had not been what he intended to ask. You smirked in response.

           “Dray, you know I’m terrible at potions. I’ll be lucky if I pass the class. I’m going to go drop my books in my room and then we’ll go down to dinner, okay?” Draco nodded, looking relieved that he could have a moment alone with his thoughts.

 Draco’s POV

           ‘Merlin, I’m such an idiot. What happened to my charm, my wit…? That could not have gone worse. Potions? Ugh.’ I continued walking towards my dormitory, intent on putting my bags down like Y/N had suggested. I had just placed my hand on the door of my dormitory when a thought struck me. I knew exactly how to ask out Y/N. But in order to put my plan into action, I had to hurry.

 Y/N’s POV

           Draco and I had just finished dinner and I decided to head up to my common room. I waved goodbye to him and started to walk away from the Great Hall. I felt myself get lost in thought about the homework I had to complete that night, and then suddenly, I was in front of my common room. I let myself into the common room and headed up toward my dormitory. As I stepped into the room, I noticed something laying on my bed. A single sunflower and a small lemon pie. There was a note beside them. It read Meet my in the kitchens at midnight. -D.M. I knew immediately from the slanting handwriting that it was from Draco. My heart skipped a beat and my face flushed. What did he have planned?

           I moved the flower and the pie before flopping down onto my bed, a wide grin on my face. ‘How am I going to pass the time when all I can think about is Draco?’ I grabbed my potions notebook, attempting to get started on the homework Snape had assigned, and surprisingly getting lost in the chore. Before I knew it, midnight had rolled around. I stopped in the bathroom before leaving my dormitory to fix my hair, knowing I’d be embarrassed if I looked weird. I then set off towards the kitchen, making sure that I didn’t encounter anyone along the way. I got to the painting of the fruit bowl, and tickled the pear – it giggled back at me and turned into a door handle. I grasped the handle and pushed open the door, not knowing what to expect inside.

           I gasped at the sight that met my eyes once I was inside the kitchen. Draco was sitting on the floor of the kitchen, on top of a beautiful pastel yellow and green checked blanket. ‘Our house colors,’ I thought to myself. He was leaning back against a stack of pillows he’d obviously transported down here, ignorant to my arrival. Around him were mugs of hot chocolate, filled to the brim with marshmallows and whipped cream, with tiny chocolate kisses dropped on top. My mouth watered at the sight, but I was more interested in the boy sitting next to the drink.

           “Dray,” I whispered lightly, not wanting to scare him with my sudden appearance. He whipped his head around, and I watched as his mouth immediately shot into a smile.

           “Y/N, you came. I wasn’t sure you would.”

           “Of course, I would silly, you’re my best friend.” His smile faltered slightly at my response, his pride taking a small beating at the use of the word ‘friend.’ “Is all of this for me...?” You ask shyly, hoping he says yes. He nods, the grin back on his face.

           “I wanted to ask you a question,” he says, now looking as confident as ever, nothing like earlier today. You sit down next to him and nod your head, silently urging him to keep talking. “I was wondering,” he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, “if you wanted to go on a date with me.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he let his breath out and his eyes popped open and looked directly at me. I had known he was trying to ask me on a date earlier, but nothing could have prepared me for the explosion of butterflies I got in my stomach when it actually happened. I reached a hand up to touch his cheek softly, in awe of the beautiful boy in front of me. I traced my hand down his cheek and across his lips, eyes following my fingers. I looked into his eyes after a moment, a cheeky grin flitting across my face.

           “I thought you’d never ask,” I joked, laying my head down in his lap, hands reaching up towards his hair and running through it. He let out a breath I didn’t even realize he was holding and I took in his dazzling smile. He swooped down to my level, his hands on either side of my face, and his lips met mine. My stomach flipped in excitement, elated at the fact that Draco was finally mine. He pulled away slowly, relishing in the fact that he was kissing me, and placed a small peck on my nose.

           “You smell like strawberries, my love. I think that’s my new favourite smell.”

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