#pls before u come into my inbox screaming remember that it's part 1 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

brieflygorgeouss · 5 years ago

Note

Hiii, i love your writing ❤️ im waiting patiently for updates on your fic. But........ number 12 for the prompts bc i like angst

12. “please don’t do this” (you wanted angst, so here it is :’) part 2 of this is coming in a separate post!)

Lucas has made a mistake.

When it comes down to it, the whole thing is pretty simple. Lucas tries not to pay it much attention. In his day to day life, there’s very little space for those kinds of things. See, Lucas is a science guy, not a feelings guy. He likes facts, and undeniable truths, something he can lean on, knowing that it’s not just his own heart messing with him.

But then, sometimes there’s this — Eliott will turn his head just right when they’re hanging out in the park with everyone else, and the sunlight will catch in his hair. They’ll catch a glimpse of each other in the hallway and he’ll smile at Lucas with this horrible, breathtaking smile of his like it’s nothing. He’ll draw something on a napkin while they’re waiting for their coffee orders at Starbucks, then give it to Lucas, just because.

And in those moments, Lucas always thinks — maybe his heart is playing tricks, after all. If the way it stutters and aches is anything to go by.

Lucas has made a mistake and here it is — a throwback to three months ago. Lucas is standing in Eliott’s living room, late at night after they’ve just finished watching some weird Spanish movie, with his hair in his eyes and his heart in his throat, and he’s saying, ”I’m in love with you.”

Eliott is wearing an old t-shirt that hangs loosely enough around his neck to show his collar bones, and his hair is messy from where he kept running his hands through it. His eyes are huge. For a second, he looks at Lucas like he doesn’t believe him, and then he looks like he does believe him and something in his eyes lights up, burns like a flare and then dies down again. He’s turning to Lucas, in the next moment. Then, he’s saying, ”Listen, Lucas, I— I’m not—” and then, turning his eyes away, quieter, ”Please don’t do this.”

So. Fast forward to now — Lucas should have just stayed quiet.

”Hey,” Lucas hears from somewhere above him, ”I really like your jacket.”

When he lifts his head, there’s a guy standing by his table, with thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose and a small smile on his lips. Lucas is about 70 percent sure he has seen him around the library before. They’ve caught each other’s eyes once or twice while sitting at neighbouring tables and run into one another by the lockers downstairs. If he remembers correctly, that is.

He says, kind of unsure, ”Oh. Thanks.”

”We’ve seen each other around before, right?” the guy voices Lucas’s thoughts, which, in turn, makes Lucas wonder, again, if they really had. Maybe the Glasses Guy had even introduced himself. Lucas can’t remember his name. ”I’ve been meaning to tell you, this jacket is so cool. And also your hair.”

Lucas is not sure what to say to that, so he just keeps smiling, a little plasticky. ”Thank you.”

”Would you mind if I joined you?” the Glasses Guy says, gesturing at the empty seat across from Lucas.

”Uhm. I’m, actually. I’m kinda waiting for someone.”

There’s a beat of silence when they just keep looking at each other, Lucas having nothing else to add and the guy waiting for him to probably do so.

”Oh,” he says after a few seconds, takes an awkward step back. ”I’ll leave you to it, then. Sorry.”

”See you around,” Lucas barely manages to get out, and then the guy is gone, just as quickly as he appeared in the first place. Lucas follows him with his eyes until he rounds the corner and disappears, then he lays his head on the table. It’s smooth under his cheek.

Then, a thumping noise startles him enough to sit back up.

Imane slides into the chair across from him, already busying herself with flipping through one of the approximately 50 books she brought with her, before saying, without lifting her gaze from the pages, ”You do realise that he was flirting with you, right?”

Lucas plays with the corner of his notebook’s cover. ”Yes,” he mutters. ”But I’m—you know. I’m here with you.”

He looks up at Imane just in time to see her roll her eyes, exasperated. ”It has nothing to do with that. You could have at least asked for his number or something.”

”Maybe I didn’t want his number,” Lucas says, and it comes out a little defensive. His phone buzzes with a notification so he busies himself with that instead of looking at Imane’s questioning expression. ”Maybe I’m not interested.”

”Lucas,” Imane says, this time looking straight at him and he can feel the weight of her eyes somewhere on his face. He locks his phone, then unlocks it, locks it again, just to pretend to be doing something. ”It’s really not my business, but he was exactly the type of guys you usually go for.”

Yeah, Lucas thinks, puts his phone away, screen down. Tall and messy-haired and smiling at strangers. Lucas knows this, and Imane knows this just as well. When he looks at her, the disappointed lines of her face clear as day, he knows what she’ll say even before she says it.

”You have to try to move on,” Imane tells him. It sounds softer than what Lucas was expecting. Imane’s eyes are soft, too, like Lucas rarely gets to see, dim with something he doesn’t want to think too much about.

Lucas thinks, I know. I know.

It’s not like he hasn’t been trying. It’s not like he’s too stubborn to make this kind of effort. After Eliott turned him down, he hid away for a moment, turned off his phone and locked himself in his room until Manon and Mika almost drove him nuts with their constant knocking on the door and are you feeling better’s but right now, he’s all good. The past is the past. Lucas really tries his best to not think too much about how Eliott’s expression looked when he confessed, or how he could barely look Lucas in the eye at all, or how Lucas has spent the entire walk home stubbornly wiping his tears away that night, even though they just kept and kept coming.

Those are all his memories, his and no one else’s, but he doesn’t want them. Revisiting that would be like poking at a bruise — causing unnecessary pain. Not letting a wound heal fully like it should.

And that’s what Lucas has been doing. Healing. He just needs some time.

”I have moved on,” he says stubbornly, not wanting to hear any more of Imane’s too-soft tone, then thinks, I am moving on. I am. ”Anyway, can we get started?”

He gestures to the books that Imane has brought. She shoots him another look, one that lasts a second too long, but then just nods without any further comments.

For the next two hours, they talk about something else.

On Saturday, the sweltering heat finally dies down to something resembling nice breezy summer. Lucas wakes up to sunlight filtering through the curtains and specks of dust swirling in the air where they’re visible in the light. He drags himself out to the kitchen, and it’s early enough for no-one else to be up yet, so he makes himself a coffee and a sandwich and takes the breakfast to the balcony, just because he feels like it. There’s a dog barking somewhere, and a few cars driving by. He can hear someone laughing, sharp and bright and quick.

Then, his phone buzzes with a text notification.

It is, because that’s just Lucas’s life, from Eliott. hi, it reads, are you free tonight?

Lucas is. He doesn’t want to say he’s always free for Eliott because he isn’t supposed to think that way anymore, but somewhere in the back of his head, it rings true whether he likes it or not.

sure, he texts back. want to hang out?

Because, see — they’re still friends. They can still be friends. It’s what he told Eliott that awful night he confessed, after Eliott, beautiful and so, so gentle, turned him down, looking like he was about to cry himself. I don’t want to ruin what we have, Lucas had told him, sounding a little shaky, feeling a little like a child, silly and overdramatic and inexperienced. I’ll get over this. I promise I will.

He can’t blame Eliott for not loving him back. Love is not something you can force yourself to feel. And Eliott never asked for any of this, never asked for any of those messy, overwhelming feelings that Lucas just couldn’t keep a hold on. There was never a reason for Lucas to count on anything, really.

As he finishes up his coffee, he looks over the railing of the balcony. There are two girls in the middle of the sidewalk downstairs, talking about something as they walk. One of them is gesturing animatedly, and the other nods from time to time, and then Lucas watches as she, unexpectedly, catches the other girl’s hand in hers and presses a quick kiss to her knuckles. Her expression is fond, then only grows fonder when the other girl’s face creases up in a smile.

Lucas turns his eyes away.

There is a theory he’s spent a lot of time reading about, a theory that he likes. It’s about alternate universes. According to the theory, there’s an infinite amount of worlds just like this one, somewhere out there, only slightly different. Lucas likes to imagine them, sometimes, because it makes him feel at peace — a world where he still lives in his old house. A world where his parents never split up in the first place. A world where everything is the same, except his eyes are green instead of blue.

i’ll pick you up at 9, Eliott writes back, and then sends another message. It’s a heart.

Lucas stares at it until the screen of his phone goes dark.

”You have to try to move on” is just a nice way of saying ”He’ll never love you back”. Lucas knows this. That’s okay. It feels a little pathetic, this whole ordeal, but then again, it’s been almost exactly three months since he confessed. He’s had enough time to swallow the hurt down. Bury it somewhere where no-one else would see.

According to the multiverse theory, besides the universe where Lucas’s family stayed together or where his eyes are a different colour, there also must be a universe where, somehow, Eliott loves him back.

It’s not a bad thought. If some other Lucas managed to get everything that this Lucas doesn’t have, then, well. Good for him. It’s not like Lucas is unhappy. He’s okay.

Three months is enough to get over someone.

A throwback again, to the same time and the same place: Lucas thought he had a chance. He thought there was something in the air that night that made things possible. He came over to Eliott’s just to hang out like they’ve done times and times before. Eliott let Lucas pick the movie, then promptly retracted the offer when Lucas said, ”Can we watch Green Lantern?” and they ended up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in Lucas’s lap and Eliott’s head leaning against Lucas’s shoulder. Eliott was busy explaining the individual shots that he really liked. Lucas was busy making comments and stuffing his face with popcorn and looking at Eliott instead of the actual film. It was nice. They were comfortable and close and talking in hushes voices, leaning into their shared space. Lucas thought he had a chance.

He never did, apparently.

At 9, when Lucas gets downstairs, trying to put on a jacket and simultaneously stuff his keys into the back pocket of his jeans, Eliott is already there. The sun has just gone down, and in the thinning out light, he looks like someone out of a dream. Lucas smiles when Eliott turns his head at the sound of the front door of the building opening, then closing.

”Hi,” Eliott says, already grinning as well, and pushes himself away from the wall he was leaning against, then stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket, like he’s shy. Something quivers in Lucas’s chest and he smothers it.

”Hi,” he answers, looking up at where Eliott’s still smiling at him. ”So, what’s the plan?”

Eliott shrugs, then raises an eyebrow with a glint in his eyes. ”Let’s see where the night takes us?”

And Lucas, laughing a little, says, ”Okay,” and falls into step next to him as they go, shoulder to shoulder, almost close enough to brush.

In reality, not much has changed. That’s something Lucas is really proud of, actually. Apart from the first few awkward days where they acted around each other like strangers and a few sad moments Lucas has to swallow down every now and again, it’s almost like nothing ever happened. They joke around, and Lucas shoves Eliott away when he starts to make fun of how Lucas should probably get a haircut but refuses to, and then they get on a bus and sit in the seats right next to each other, their heads bent together. The whole bus is empty. Lucas keeps stealing glances at where Eliott’s profile reflects in the glass of the window.

This is exactly what Lucas doesn’t want to ruin. This — Eliott being so laid-back and relaxed around him, laughing freely, bright. In moments like these, Lucas feels more himself than he does anywhere else. He can’t afford to lose it, everything they have, how well they work together, just because he’s looking for the sun at midnight, just because he was stupid enough to fall in love.

And at one point, when he asks about one of Eliott’s art projects, Eliott suddenly whips his head around, and, eyes huge, says, as if enlightened, ”Oh my God. I know where I’m gonna take you.”

”Oh, yeah?” Lucas says, and then lets his smile widen a fraction. ”Let me guess, is it McDonald’s?”

”Shut up,” Eliott mutters, his own smile widening, too. ”That was only once.”

Lucas laughs, then, and looks and looks, at the curve of Eliott’s smile and at the slight colour high in his cheeks, until they get to the next stop and Eliott drags him out of the bus.

They only talked about the confession once, during a party at Emma’s, at the very end of their awkward phase. Lucas came out there to finally head home after moping in the corner for hours on end and spoiling his friends’ moods. Eliott was simply already there. They ended up sitting on the pavement with the party music pouring from the speakers from behind the closed front door, huddled close. Lucas remembers feeling relieved at the proximity, and also like someone punched him in the gut.

”Do you have any idea,” Eliott asked him then, quiet under the night sky, sitting so close that Lucas was half-afraid he might do something stupid, ”what it’s like to be told that by someone like you?” And then, shaking his head, quieter, ”I don’t deserve that at all, Lucas. Not from you. I wouldn’t be good for you, you— you’re just so—”

Lucas said, then, unsure of how to respond but desperately wishing for things to just fall into place again, ”It’s okay, Eliott,” even though it wasn’t, even though it was nowhere near as easy. He kept thinking, why can’t you just tell me that you don’t feel the same?

”It’s not okay,” Eliott told him then, looking a little broken and so, so sad. ”I just—I wish it was different.”

Me, too, Lucas thought but didn’t say it.

”We’ll figure it out, Eliott,” he only said instead, proud of how sure he sounded even when did not feel like it as he got up, because it was time to go home. And even if there was something in Eliott’s gaze when their eyes met, something heavy and dim and unsettled, Lucas decided to write it off as a trick of the light. ”We will.”

They end up, somehow, in an art gallery.

Or something of sorts, anyway. Lucas doesn’t know why it’s still open and running at 9:30 at night, but it’s nice, he guesses, or as nice as an art gallery can get, anyway. There aren’t many people here, and Eliott claims that the exhibition is something he’s seen before and liked very much, so Lucas lets himself be taken by the hand and lead inside and only complains a little bit, just for show.

Eliott’s hand is warm in his, and for a second, Lucas allows himself a bluff. A what-if. Between one breath and then next, he can pretend they’re something else. Then, he moves his hand away first and ignores the look Eliott sends his way.

He doesn’t know much about art, arguably. He was never good at it, because, again — he’s a science guy. And there are many paintings here that he doesn’t understand, full of sharp lines and patches of colour, but they’re pretty. He stops in front of a painting of the sunrise, soft and full of light, full of blues and pinks and muted oranges and stands and just looks until Eliott finds him.

”What do you think?” he asks, stopping just shy of Lucas’s shoulder. He sounds curious but also a little nervous. Lucas doesn’t really understand why, so he just brushes it off.

”It’s nice, I guess,” he says, still looking at the painting, but then shifts his eyes onto Eliott and discovers that his expression is just as bright as the landscape on the canvas in front of him. ”I don’t know why you chose an art gallery as a form of entertainment for me, though. I’m not really big on places like that.”

”I’m aware,” Eliott chuckles, but then, startlingly, ducks his head and shrugs like he always does when he’s shy. ”But the first time I saw it, I thought of you, and—I wanted to bring you here. To see it, too.”

And—oh.

Lucas kind of just…stops. At that.

Because, you see — he’s been trying his best. He’s been careful and withdrawn and afraid, just a little, of reminding Eliott of what he’d said, of how he feels, when Eliott made it so, so clear that he doesn’t want that. That he doesn’t want whatever Lucas has to give, whatever Lucas took and tried to push into his hands that night three months ago, all of his crushing, throbbing feelings, this whole mess. And he’s been doing well. Most of the time, it’s almost like nothing ever happened. Lucas is okay. Lucas has been making progress.

But every once in a while Eliott does or says something — texts him a heart or takes him by the hand or says ”Do you have some time” or ”I saw it and thought of you”, take him to look at art because it’s something he wants to share with Lucas and Lucas alone, and all the painstaking progress he has made goes teetering down, down and back to square one.

Lucas doesn’t know how many times he’ll be able to take it. There is something lodged in his chest that suddenly makes breathing difficult. He thinks, I’m so stupid. So, so dumb.

Something must show on his face, or maybe he’s been quiet for too long, or maybe Eliott just knows him too well, because he asks, rocking on his feet, his voice tentative, ”Do you like it? Here, I mean?”

What does it matter to you, Lucas thinks, but swallows the words down, because they wouldn’t be fair. Eliott cares, is all. He knows that. They’re friends.

”I like it, yeah,” he answers instead, then watches another smile break across Eliott’s face, impossible, prettier than all the art in the room.

Lucas thinks back to the balcony, to the girls he saw on the sidewalk in the morning, to fond smiles and kisses pressed to knuckles, to feeling like he was intruding on something he had no right to, and feels like Eliott and his smile and this whole goddamn scene is another thing like that. Something stolen that does not belong to him. Something that is not meant to be his at all.

”I’m glad,” Eliott tells him. His words sound nothing but sincere.

They move onto another painting.

But maybe the truth is this — Lucas is tired of feeling like him being in love has become something to be ashamed of. Before, he’d thought that now when Eliott knew, maybe the feeling of it all would lessen, would become less biting, simmer down to friendship again, but it didn’t. It’s still there, no matter what he does, whether he covers it up or screams it from the rooftops, and he’s tired of hiding something everyone knows about anyway.

It’s not fair, pretending he never confessed, when it took so much courage and strength and nerve.

It’s not much of a revelation, really, but Lucas can’t help but feel very, very dumb. He meets up with Imane again and can barely look at her, keeps thinking, you were right, you were right as always. He goes to class, and to work, and spends the evenings lying on the couch, watching reruns of old TV shows with Mika and Lisa arguing over whose turn it is to choose the channel this time. It’s not bad. The acute awareness of I’m still in love doesn’t change much.

Except when Eliott texts him now, he barely even answers and doesn’t pick up when he calls and lies that he’s busy when Manon suggests that they all go out together. It’s awful, and it makes him feel guilty and like a failure, but he doesn’t know what else to do. It’s all he has left, he tells himself, because Eliott is not his to have. He’s been reading too much into his smiles, and his soft touch, and how bright his eyes get sometimes, into little drawings on coffee cups and text messages saying, let me know when you get home safe.

It’s just how Eliott is. And if Lucas can’t do anything about his stupid wishful thinking, if what Eliott can offer is not enough for him, then maybe it’s better if he doesn’t get anything at all.

It’s sad, in the beginning, but he likes to think he withdraws slowly. The unanswered texts pile up on his phone one by one, and Manon asks less and less about why he doesn’t hang out with them as much anymore, and once, when he sees Eliott in the hallway in-between his classes, he shoots him a smile and scrambles out of sight before anything else can happen.

He misses Eliott so goddamn much. It grows in his chest like vines, this ache, winds around everything else he feels and taints it. But Lucas only allows himself to feel it when it’s late into the night and the apartment is quiet and his thoughts have nowhere else to go. Because, again — Eliott is not his to have. Not his to miss. This is not a universe where they’re together.

He just needs to get it into his head.

And then, one night as he’s getting off his shift and closing up, stepping into the dark of the streets, Eliott is, for some reason, there.

He looks slightly unsure of himself, as if the sun, when it went down, took away the usual bright aura he radiates. His hands are in his pockets, and his hair is a mess. He’s chewing on his bottom lip and something flits across his face when he realises Lucas has spotted him, but then he comes up to where Lucas is standing with the keys still dangling from his hands, in big, quick strides like he’s afraid Lucas will run off, as if he has anywhere to go.

”Can we talk?” is the first thing Eliott says.

So they talk.

It feels a little bit like the conversation they had after Lucas confessed, the one when Eliott had told him ”I wouldn’t be good for you”, the one when Lucas had said, ”We’ll figure it out,” only to fuck up everything even more in the end. They wander through the streets in silence at first, Lucas unsure of what exactly is happening and stupidly happy to see Eliott again, almost despite himself, all at the same time. He can’t help but steal glances at Eliott’s profile, coloured golden in the light of the street lamps.

Then, Eliott says, ”So. You’ve been avoiding me.”

It’s not really a question. Lucas supposes that’s fair, since his behaviour left so little room for doubt. He holds the confirmation like breath in his lungs, then lets it out as a sigh. ”Sorry.”

If Eliott was expecting him to deny, it doesn’t show on his face. Lucas watches him lick his lips. ”Did I—” Eliott stutters. ”Did I do something? Did I say something stupid?”

Something unfurls in Lucas’s chest, then, the vines grow and grow and make it a little bit harder to breathe.

None of this is Eliott’s fault. That’s what Lucas keeps thinking as they walk, as Eliott waits for an answer, as they keep looking at each other like that could serve as a reply instead. None of this is on Eliott. It’s all Lucas and his stupid, stupid heart, him looking for the sun at midnight, him reading too much into Eliott’s kindness, because he just never learns. That’s all.

”No,” he says, looks down on his feet, then up again. ”You didn’t do anything.”

”Then what’s wrong?” is what comes next. Lucas breathes in, breathes out. ”Are you alright?”

”Yeah,” he says. I was just busy, he wants to say, with school and work, you know how it is. But that would be a lie. He was never too busy for Eliott before. Maybe that was the very first mistake in all of this. ”I’m okay.”

”Then—” Eliott starts, quietly, and doesn’t finish. Why, is what he really wants to say; Lucas realises that but pretends that he doesn’t, only walks alongside Eliott and waits for him to speak again, looks at the pattern of light-dark-light as they pass the street lamps. Then, Eliott takes a breath, looks ahead. ”I know it’s not really my business,” he says, ”but—we’re okay, right? Because I feel like I did something. I just— I really miss you.”

And just like that, it’s too much. It’s too much.

Lucas says, ”I’m still in love with you.”

Eliott turns his head fast, surprised. He stops walking. Lucas slows down, too, stands centimetres from where another streetlamp is casting yellowish light on the nearby building. Eliott looks dumb-struck and a little scared, and Lucas looks at him and thinks that he has no right to, because it’s not like he didn’t know. It’s not like Lucas didn’t tell him.

And here they are again, a different time and a different place but the same two people and the same situation. Here he is, defeated and pathetic and like he’s stuck in some sort of fucking loop. It’s so unfair, he thinks, his chest suddenly too small for his heart, too tight for his lungs. So unfair.

”I know you don’t want to hear it,” he goes on when Eliott doesn’t say anything but just stands frozen still, his expression twisted into something Lucas is afraid to work through, ”and I’m sorry. I really tried to keep things how they used to be, but I can’t. I tried to stop—” A breath. Lucas feels shaky. ”I tried to stop feeling the way I do because I didn’t want to ruin anything, but I can’t. Not when you keep acting the way you do and keep saying all those things—”

”What things?”

Eliott sounds very small. Like he isn’t sure what to say but needs to say something anyway, like he’s scared. Lucas is scared, too, just a bit. All the words he says sound like coming from underwater.

”That you miss me,” he hears himself answer and only half-registers that it is really his own voice that’s sounding so strange. ”That you think of me. Everything, I don’t know.” His next breath sounds watery, and Lucas isn’t crying, but he’s almost there. He tries to push through it. ”It’s not like you don’t realise that, right? I know it’s easier to just pretend I never said anything, but the truth is that I did. We both know that. I don’t think it’s fair to pretend everything is still the same.”

Eliott casts his eyes down. It takes him a moment to say, ”No. It’s not fair.”

And Lucas, stupidly, because for just a second he can’t help it, thinks about some other universe, then, where a different Lucas and a different Eliott are happy. Where they kiss on street corners and hold hands as they walk down the sidewalks and where some other Lucas is allowed, impossibly, to lift some other Eliott’s hand to his lips and press a kiss there, too, or to his cheek, to the curve of his jaw.

”I meant what I said about still being friends,” he says after a while, and it burns in his throat, but in this universe, it’s all he gets. ”It’s still important to me. I just need to work through it all, so that we can go back to how things really used to be, this time.“ He licks his lips. "I don’t want to ruin this any more than I already did.”

”Lucas, you didn’t—” Eliott sounds almost as bad as he does. Lucas doesn’t think about the reason. ”You didn’t ruin anything, listen, I—”

”I just need some more time,” he cuts in, because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to handle Eliott saying ”Please don’t do this” one more time, if that’s what Eliott wants to tell him. ”Some time and some space and I’ll really—try and just. You won’t have to listen to it again. I promise.”

Eliott is quiet, then. The vines in Lucas’s chest grow and grow until there’s no more room left.

”I’d take it back if I could,” Lucas says after a moment because it’s the truth, and it feels important, somehow, that Eliott knows. He’d take it all back. All of his scattered, burning, unwanted feelings and keep them away, safe and only for him to deal with. ”I would. But I can’t. I’m sorry that I need so much time.”

For a second, Eliott looks like he wants to say something, but whatever is it, it never leaves his mouth.

So in the end, Lucas only says, ”See you later,” and then goes.

#skam france #elu #elu fic #skamfr #my writing #pls before u come into my inbox screaming remember that it's part 1 #asks #what is going to happen in part 2 u ask? jk nobody asks that

259 notes · View notes

franeridart · 7 years ago

Note

Would you ever consider uploading your Kekkai Sensen piece onto Redbubble? My friend and I are massive fans and I would love to own a print or tshirt with it on it!

Done! Just click on available products to see all the stuff it’s on! :D and thank you for liking it!!!

Anon said:YESSSSS qlu is such a good fic!!!! literally the writing is.... so good and so in char!!!! loved seeing art of it!!!!!!

YAH!!!! Asma’s one of my top favorite bakushima writers, she’s got such a good grasp on them and her storytelling style is always incredibly on point, I love reading her stuff so much !!

Anon said:I highkey love your art.

Anon said:Ahh I saw art of that scene before and thought I was content with that but OMFG YOURS IS FUCKING AMAZING

THANKS I’m super glad you liked it!!!! You shouldn’t make that sort of comparisions tho, anon :O

Anon said:I honestly love the fatgum fam so much (they're actually the only reason I'm reading the series alongside Tsuchako; I saw your pictures of them, fell in love, and proceeded to speed through the manga in hopes of seeing them) and seeing your art of them makes my day.

OH BOY I’m happy you liked that one!!!! And I hope you’re enjoying reading bnha regardless of whether the fatfam or tsu and uraraka are on screen, anon !!!!

Anon said:I'm ganna scream if none of the bakusquad members end up running through those doors and tackle Kiri tbh, especially Mina considering we had a flashback to her during his fight

I would actually point more towards Kaminari being the most probable one to react on screen, since he’s always got something to say in scenes like this one - and in general towards Kami, Baku and Sero being the ones to... confront? Kirishima specifically about this mission, not because I don’t want Mina to be there too! But generally as far as past arcs go Mina seems to be more part of the girls group than anything, and since Tsuyu and Uraraka were there too she might be between the ones reacting to Tsu and Ura more specifically (like she was the one to fawn over the two of them after their first day of internship) while Sero, Baku and Kami were the ones to react on screen to Unbreakable AND the ones Kiri spoke to about his insecurities to begin with... then again, given the flashback I do hope Mina will be proud of him on screen......... aaaahhhhhhhh I guess we won’t know until Horikoshi will finally show us, will we? ;u;

Anon said:slides you one (1) dollar and half a corn chip, "so um tododeku?" ps your art is beautiful and soft I love

Thank you! And I guess I do have a tag for them? Tho it’s mostly old stuff.... ahhhhhh it is my fav Deku ship, so I might draw more in the near future! Keep the dollar and half corn chip for now haha

Anon said:hello! that food that you drew looks?? delicious??? i would gladly eat it,, anyway sorry for the weird message! have a nice day!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH it was seriously fun to draw too, I’m happy you like how it came out!!!!!

Anon said:YOUR HAIKYUU ART AAA I LOVE!!! 💕💕and also bnha just,, that tALENT MY GUY👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻 kill me now pls 😍😍

THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:DO KIRI'S BOYFRIENDS NOT KNOW HE'S IN HOSPITAL!? HOW WILL THEY RESPOND WHEN THEY FIND OUT

THAT’S WHAT I’M HOPING HORIKOSHI HIMSELF WILL TELL ME NEXT CHAPTER, ANON!!!!

Anon said:pls draw some miritama!!!

In the future, for sure! They’re one of my favorite bnha ships, after all!!

Anon said:THE MATSUHANA!!! yes, bless that post, thank you for seijou third years

THANK YOU FOR LIKING THEM!!!

Anon said:I just wanted to say that when I am in a depressed funk your art always makes me feel a bit better :)

Ahhhh boi that does mean the world to me!!! I’m so happy I can help you out a bit, anon!! ;u;

Anon said:YOUR ART = MY LIFE BLESS YOUR SOUL 👌🏿💕

I’m sOBBING thank Y O U ;O;

Anon said:I really miss ur haikyuu stuff but u have stopped doing 'em... draw something for me please?😽

Can I ask you to not, like, dismiss the fact that I have, in fact, been drawing haikyuu? Aside from the last one, since I got this ask before posting that, but in the past month as I have made present more than once in answer to asks exactly like this one I HAVE been drawing haikyuu again - you think it makes me feel good to have hours of work been treated as if they never happened? That it makes me want to draw more? Just to have even more people come in my inbox and ask me why I’m not drawing haikyuu anymore, as if the stuff I drew doesn’t even exist? If you meant this ask as in “you’ve stopped drawing only that”, then I’m sorry, but bnha is the fandom that’s making me the happiest at the moment, I’m not stopping drawing for it. I am willing to draw more haikyuu, when I feel inspired to do so, but only if you guys stop treating hours of work as if they never existed. It’s really, really not a good feeling, nor something I have the wish to feel any more than strictly necessary - if the stuff I draw has to end up ignored anyway, then I’m just straight out not gonna draw it anymore

Anon said:Bi i love your art a whole bunch

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh !!!!! ;u; thank you lots!!!!!!!

Anon said:I cry, everyone you draw is so pretty and the background in that bakushima pick you posted a few days ago was amazing (the starry one, where they're holding hands), I stared at it for hours.

BOI I’M SUPER HAPPY YOU LIKED THAT ONE !!!!!!!!!! I was really unsure about it but seeing you guys like it is making me incredibly happy!!!!

Anon said:your KiriBaku Baccano AU is everything I never knew I needed mostly because I didn't think anyone else remembered that anime

You and me both, anon! The baccano fandom sure is a silent one, despite its name hahaha

(..........................baccano means racket in italian, ignore me)

Anon said:can you draw bakugou finding out kiri's in the hospital? ily

I’ve drawn stuff sorta for that scenario thrice already (x x x) but for anything more specific I’m gonna have to ask you to wait for after I’ll know for sure if Horikoshi will give me a canon version of that or not! I really do hope to get that scene in canon, but if Hori will fail me I’ll most probs fill the void for myself again haha

Anon said:GOSH the way you draw kaminari is so CUTE

THANK YOU!!!!!

Anon said:we saw Kirishima recently being taken on that stretcher, how do you think bakugo would have reacted to Kirishima being that hurt (assuming they're in love at this point) ?

Again, I’m gonna answer this one once I’ll know for sure Horikoshi won’t give me the canon version! If we’re lucky we’ll know in a couple of days !!!!! ;u;

Anon said:AAAA THE LIL MUMMY KIRI!! The newest chapter ended me, Horikoshi owns my soul and he aiNT TREATING IT RIGHT!

YO WHAT A MOOD

Anon said:OH MY GOD THAT COLLEGE AU WITH BAKU IN THE SWEATER THING WITH GLASSES IS EVERYTHING. I CAN DIE HAPPY

cont:I JUST SAW THAT IT WASNT MEANT AS AN AU BUT BOI NOW ITS MY FAV AU

GOOD I’M !!!!! SO GLAD HOLY SMOKES THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!!!!!

Anon said:Is it me or is Kaminari's fringe slowly taking over his face? I love it!

If you’re talking about my art, then yeah, sorta! Thank you for liking it! Tho I have to admit I’ve kind of always drawn it like that, I don’t understand in a practical way how with his parting that far on the side his fringe doesn’t fall in front of his eye and that sort of subconsciously ends up showing in the way I draw him haha

Anon said:i praise lord yeezy everyday for how much kiribaku you draw, you're the real mvp 🙏🙏🙏

;O; thank you my friend, you’re way too nice!!!!!

Anon said:I have that headcanon that Bakugou actually uses LOTS of emojis in his texts. Kirishima is stunned when he first finds out (and no one believes him)

If you’re talking about emojis and not kaomojis then I’m with you on that lmao mostly cause I feel like Bakugou would be a really lazy texter but would at the same time be the type to dislike writing without capitals or proper punctuation and so on, so to avoid having to put actual effort into texting he just answers (when he answers) using one single emoji and thats it. It’s up to his interlocutor to understand what he meant with it. Up until now the only people who get it 100% of the times are Kirishima, Sero and surprisingly Todoroki.

Then again, I do think you meant kaomojis lmao

#fran answers #im trying to add more stuff to the rb store actually but #since i still haven't gotten out of the terrible habit of drawing too small pics #i have to rely on sites that make my stuff bigger #and those sites don't work like half the time #its terrible t b h but i get what i deserve i guess haha #sigh #anonymous

102 notes · View notes