#(if you need a tone indicator here: im being sarcastic and joking. i know my queerness does not make me objective. but let me joke about

[show-us-kaidenshenandoah]

every time i watch anything with him in it (admittingly, predominantly from the Dropout app), i am reminded that Lou Wilson is the most handsome man to have ever lived. like, objectively. he just is. i will hear no arguments for any other person to be ranked higher. Lou Wilson: whose face single-handedly shows humanity can go no higher in beauty. he is THE most attractive man in the world. argue with the wall lmao

[inklingofadream]

on tone indicators, (idk for sure if im nd but a lot of my immediate family are so do with that what you will), i mostly use /j, /s and /lh. I agree that /nm for 'not mad' and /nbh for 'nobody here' are too vague, and in those cases its probably better to just say the short phrase theyre already pretty obviously replacing. /j and /s come up often enough that it might actually help to have the shorter indicator instead of the full "im joking" or "thats sarcasm", and read less clunky to boot. But i also really like using /lh, 'cause honestly, conveying a light, casual tone online IS, to me, really complicated. I used to use emojis for it as much as possible, but emojis also get used sarcastically, and have semantic meanings (IE, crying laughing emoji being used as actually crying, or the smiling faintly emoji actually meaning hidden rage), or are too 'happy' for the casual tone im going for. And to try and incorporate this lightheartedness in text, at every post and sentence that want to say light heartedly, to attempt to convey that casualness id usually add by gesturing exageratedly or using a different tone of voice, in a way that is unlikely to be misunderstood, is just a lot more work (not to mention, still reliant on cultural meanings to the reader) than just putting a small /lh and being able to assume that people can know im being hyperbolic, or argueing in a friendly way, or whatever else (and if they dont know, they can just ask me what /lh means, instead of assuming that whatever i posted is meant literally/seriously/angrily). on the other hand, as you can see, this is very much written as someone who uses tone indicators because they relieve my anxiety over being potentially misunderstood, as opposed to needing them very much to parse online meanings myself, so there are probably things im missing from that angle.

That’s an interesting argument for /lh- emojis definitely have their issues as well (ie most of the sexual ones i alluded to are p metaphor/innuendo based, I just think they’ve reached a level of saturation that makes them easy to look up). I agree that putting the full statements instead of /j or /s would be obnoxious real quick-for writer and reader lol

[a-dotrivenitupontop]

30 days of autism acceptance

day 7- how are you with tone?

honestly, im both good and not good. some days ill be making sarcastic comments everywhere. but some days ill struggle to understand even the most obvious joke. im definitely better at using tones myself than understanding them in others. i also normally take instructions more seriously than jokes. like someone could tell me a joke and id laugh at it and find it funny/get it but then that person could tell me to ‘wait here’ and id stay still in the exact same spot. im also very prone to-

nt: ill only be a minute

me: one misisipi, two misisipi, three misisipi... etc etc.

sometimes ill treat counting to a minute like a joke, sometimes i wont. it depends.

sometimes (ahem- often) ill know something is hypothetical and/or a joke but ill still think ‘yeah but like,,, what if????’. an example would be a post today where it said ‘if you look into a mirror and say “autistic” three times an NT will come in and tell you to use person first language’ or something like that. i knew it was a joke at how many neurotypicals use ‘person with autism’ over ‘autistic person’ and insist on it being that way despite being allistic but a tiny part at me wanted to go to the bathroom, look in the mirror and whisper ‘autistic’.

i also tend to struggle with understanding how anything other than speech can be sarcastic. theres a page in a book (solitaire- alice oseman) where the mc ‘waves sarcastically’ and i can sort of picture it but if someone did that to me irl then i doubt id understand and take it as a genuine wave.

i struggle more with tone in text more than vocal tone. with voice there are rules, you just have to learn them. but with text all i have are emojis and outlandish-ness to use if there are no tone indicators. tAlKiNg LiKe ThIs can help but not everyone does that. plus theres the chance that a person who uses emojis and says outlandish things is being genuine. example:

‘omg haven’t you heard??? people who don’t take their christmas trees down until mid january should be put to death obvs!! 😤😤😤😤’

because it’s an unlikely situation and emojis a el being used than it’s most likely sarcasm. but there’ll always be a tiny part of me that wonders if it’s genuine. (also doesn’t help that i still have my christmas tree up because i Can’t Be Bothered to remove the decorations)

i just wish that tone indicators were used more outside of tumblr. i wish it was socially acceptable to have a tone indicator in verbal real life speech that neurodivergent people can understand.

i also quickly want to end this with an apology if you cant understand my tone or if a tone indicator i use is too vague or something like that. in that situation i probably don’t understand my own tone but if you ever need a tone indicator and ive neglected to put one there please feel free to ask for one (same goes for trigger warnings) 👍 /gen

[bifinmediasres]

Kalluzeb drabble No. 2

It was early, almost too early for people to be awake. But Alexsandr was in the training room looking for a sparring partner. Normally, that would be Zeb. But he was in an early morning debrief after returning from his last mission.

If he was honest with himself, that didn't leave Kallus with very many other options. He hadn't made very many friends in his short time with the rebellion. Sometimes he felt like he had more enemies than anything else. Not that he blamed anyone or begrudged them their hard feelings. He knew what he'd been a part of in the Empire. Associations like that weren't easily forgiven or forgotten.

Suddenly a voice broke through his train of thought. "Hey! Kallus!" Ezra shouted across the hangar. The younger man waved, walking over to where Alexsandr stood. "You gonna spar? Where's Zeb?"

"Early meeting." Kallus answered and then after a thought, "You wouldn't want to fill in, just this once? Eh, Jabba?" Kallus grinned as he said the name Bridger had introduced himself with at their first meeting.

"Who me? You sure that's a good idea?" He answered.

"I think I can handle a Padawan with a practice staff", Alexsandr drawled sarcastically.

"No, that's not what I meant," Ezra chuckled, "I know you can handle me. I'm just not keen on getting my butt kicked before breakfast."

Alexsandr barked out a laugh tossing him a staff. "Have a little faith in yourself Jabba."

The younger man nodded smiling, "Yeah ok." He faced Kallus in what he hoped was a ready position and the man advanced. Ezra quickly blocked his thrust, circling around until he found his own opportunity. Then Kallus advanced again. And on it went.

The young Jedi in training wasn't as practiced as the ex Imperial, but he wasn't completely untrained either, Kallus noticed. He had good instincts, even if he was a bit hasty. But Alexandr found him to be good practice for a day like this.

The bout continued. Each man getting in a strike there, a block here. It wasn't what you would call evenly matched but they were well suited in a way. Ezra making a mistake and Alexandr showing him with his next move where his error lay. Ezra would then put the lesson into practice.

This went on for longer than either had initially intended. Both were being to tire. Perhaps that's why when Ezra went to strike his latest blow he found himself swinging harder than he meant to.  Likewise Kallus had been caught off guard and was twisted in such a way that the blow landed just at the small of his back with a heavy thunk.

The momentum carried Ezra in a half circle, turning him away from Kallus who had lost his balance and came to land on his right knee which promptly gave out under the sudden weight. A sort of choked groan escaped as Kallus flattened on the mat.

As soon as both feet were back under him Ezra ran to Kallus, kneeling next to him but hesitating to do more. "Kallus are you alright? Oh Kriff Zeb is going to kill me!"

Managing to draw in a breath, Kallus grinned, "Not before Hera kills you for cursing."

"You're ok? You're ok! Are you threatening to tell on me? Make me think I killed you and now you're threatening to tattle." Ezra rambled only to finish with a smirk, "Frankly I think that's rude."

"Yeah well you owe me for that last shot, he shot back sticking up his hand so Ezra could help him up. He only got his left leg under him though. As soon as he tried to put weight on his right leg it buckled under him and pain shot through his lower back sending him back down to the ground.

This was bad. Not the worst his leg had been obviously. But the worst anyone who wasn't Zeb had ever seen him dealing with. And speaking of Zeb he was probably the best bet for Kallus getting out of here quickly. But that meant Ezra would have to go get him and bring him to the training room.

After making that assessment, he rolled to his back to make eye contact with Ezra who it seemed had been muttering to himself about breaking Zeb's boyfriend. He chuckled at that but stopped when that too caused him pain.

"Ezra," he prompted gruffly, "I need you to focus. You didn't break me." He paused to make sure the Padawan was listening before continuing, "I do need your help however. I need Garazeb. He'll be able to get me up and out of here no problem. Can you go find him for me? Please?"

The word please seemed to snap Ezra out of whatever trance he'd been in. He stood and began to walk away before turning back to the man on the floor and speaking.

"You called me Ezra."

"That's your name."

"You said please."

"I'm polite!"

Ezra turned to leave muttering under his breath, "Oh yeah this is bad. Kriff! Zeb is going to completely kill me. I broke Agent Kallus!"

Ezra found Zeb in the hall outside the meeting room, his debriefing having just ended. He tried to walk not run up to him and tried, major emphasis on tried to sound more calm and put together than he felt.

"Um Ze-Zeb", his voice cracked on the word. He tried again, "Zeb I need your help with something", he started. The Lasat smiled in greeting as he listened. "Something bad happened. I mean I did something bad."

"If you broke something of 'Bine's again I'm not bailing you out this time." Zeb joked but Ezra shook his head, "Did you break Chopper? Not that I care but I want to know how if you did," he laughed.

"No! Zeb...it's Kallus." Ezra hung his head as he spoke hiding his face from Zeb.

"What'd"ya mean?" Zeb's voice grew serious, "Ezra? Spill it." And he did. Briefly explaining what had happened during their morning sparring match and how he'd gotten in a lucky shot. But now it seemed like Kallus was really hurt and he'd been sent to collect Zeb.

"Karabast! He'll be the death of me one day, Zeb muttered running a hand over his face. "Training room you said?" Ezra nodded. "Alright c'mon. Might need yer help too." He jerked his head indicating for Ezra to follow as he stalked away, Ezra behind, leaving apologies in their wake.

In a few minutes they'd reached the training room and Ezra was still apologizing. "He called me Ezra. He NEVER calls me Ezra. This is bad, isn't it?"

Zeb stopped and huffed a laugh. "Actually that's probably his way of telling you he really does like you, not just enjoys messing with you. Especially now that you're seeing him like this. Karabast he hates his leg actin' up. Makes him feel weak I guess."

Suddenly something seemed to dawn on Ezra, "It's happened before?" Zeb nodded. "Does it happen a lot?" Zeb shook his head. "Not terribly. More if he's tired or already hurting. Or when some street rat jedi gets a lucky shot in`` at this Zeb's grin widened. "It always makes him feel vulnerable though I think, so I'm one of the few people who knows. It's a big deal for him to show weakness. Just thought you should know."

Ezra nodded, digesting what he'd heard as they walked into the training room. They found Alexandr, much as Ezra had said. He was still flat on his back on the floor and didn't look like he'd moved much at all. He raised an arm in a wave when he saw them approaching.

"Mornin'", Zeb greeted.

"Garazeb, darling." Kallus smiled. "Jabba" he acknowledged Ezra with a smirk.

"Heard the kid beat ya," Zeb grinned down at Alex.

"Is that the story he's going with?" Kallus winked at Ezra, "We'll have to clear that up, I think. But first, mind giving me a hand," he asked reaching out to Zeb. The Lasat answered by bending down and grabbing the man's hand, pulling his arm across Zeb's shoulder before wrapping an arm around Kallus' waist and beginning to pull him off the floor.

At closer range Zeb could see Alex was sweating despite his sparring with Ezra being over. He was paler than usual as well. "You think you can stand?" he asked.

"Only one way to find out," Kallus responded. Zeb moved slowly attempting to give Alexsandr time to adjust.  Still, the moment he had both legs under him Kallus went even paler, groaning as the pain got exponentially worse. How had he not realized he was in this shape until now? He was usually so much better at keeping track of when his leg was in bad shape.

"Is he going to be sick?" Kallus heard Ezra ask from the other side of Zeb.

"I most certainly am not", he replied, trying to sound indignant but only achieving slurred. Either way he was right though. He didn't get sick. Instead he promptly lost consciousness, slumping with his full weight now supported by Zeb.

"Karabast Sasha!" Zeb growled before recovering and seemingly effortlessly slinging Alexsandr up over one shoulder. Blinking at the younger man he said, "Don't let him know you heard me call him that. Deal?"

"Oh sure! No problem!" Ezra assured him. "Honestly I'm still processing the fact that he used my real name and that apparently means...he likes me?" Ezra trailed off sounding utterly confused.

Zeb huffed a laugh, heading to the training room door, "Well try to get used to it will ya? He needs all the friends he can get. I mean look at 'im." He gestured over his shoulder at the still unconscious Alex. "Being around people who actually care, who want him to take care of himself is basically a foreign concept to him. I for one would like to change that."

Ezra just nodded and studied Kallus' face as he followed a little behind Zeb. "On that note", Zeb's tone changed slightly, "could you sit with him in our bunk while I rustle some food together?"

"I'd be happy to", Ezra answered.

"Good man", Zeb replied. They walked the rest of the way back to the Ghost in near silence, aside from the few comments from passing pilots about Zeb "bagging the imp" and others asking how he had time for a debrief and a sparring session in one morning. Zeb just smiled and kept walking, throwing, "Wasn't me. It was the kid," over his shoulder. Ezra grinned at that and walked a little taller. He'd take pride in it for as long as Kallus would let him.

A short time later Kallus woke up in the familiar surroundings of the bunk room he shared with Zeb. Only Zeb was nowhere to be found. Instead Kallus found Ezra nodding off in the desk chair beside the bed. He'd been watching over him Kallus realized with a small smile. Relaxing back onto his pillow he began to try to piece together how exactly he'd ended up back on board the Ghost.

There was movement beside him followed by Ezra's excitable, "Kallus! I mean", he continued softer, "Kallus you're awake! Are you in pain? You look like you're in pain. I'll get Zeb", and he got up to presumably find the Lasat in question.

Kallus attempted to stop him by asking where Zeb was. But the attempt came out as a croaky whisper that surprised them both. Ezra seemed to change his mind then. He turned and grabbed a cup of water from the table and handed it to Alex. Alex raised himself to one elbow slowly and drained the cup. Handing it back over he returned to his position on the bed.

"Better?" Ezra asked at which he nodded in answer before trying to speak again. This time his voice came out clearer, if still weaker than he'd prefer.

"Would you be so kind as to fill me in on a few details I seem to be lacking?"

"Sure thing," Ezra returned to his seat, "What do you remember?"

"We sparred." Alex answered. "You...got lucky." He caught Ezra's wince and paused. "It's alright you know. It's not as if you-" he was cut off by Ezra's agitated response.

"No it's not alright! Even if I didn't mean to, I hurt you. Enough to cause your leg to give out. And then when I went and got Zeb and he tried to get you up, you were in so much pain you passed out. And I did that!"

Ezra had stood up at some point during the shouting and now half way between the chair and the bed, head hung low, Kallus thought he might very well sink to the floor. He briefly considered reaching out to make the boy sit on the bed, but he thought better of it.

"Ezra," he began quietly. Ezra flinched and so Kallus flinched. Was using his given name really having such an adverse effect? Possibly but this was not the time for inside jokes so he tried again.

"Ezra, I meant what I said. You got lucky. Yes, you got a solid hit in. Yes...I was hurt." He stopped here to watch how Ezra was reacting to his words. "But it was my fault." Ezra met his gaze. "I'm usually better at knowing when my leg can take a work out. I misjudged today. I'm also slightly more sleep deprived and under fed than strictly healthy." Here he smiled, "I'd appreciate that staying between the two of us if you didn't mind?"

"Not on your life," Zeb's voice came from the doorway.

Zeb's gruff laugh seemed to shake Ezra back to the present. Alex gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bed which he did slowly before speaking, "I understand everything you said. And I guess as long as you're not angry...it's ok?" He finished sounding utterly unsure of himself.

"Wonderful!" Zeb beamed, "Now that you two have kissed and made up, lunchtime." And with that he started arranging the food he'd brought in on the desktop and a tray table he maneuvered to the bedside, all the while Ezra joked about Zeb being the preferred person to kiss Alex. They both heartily agreed.

Ezra switched from the bed back to the chair and Zeb sat down next to Alex to fuss over him profusely, which Alex didn't mind at all to be honest. After they'd spent some time eating, Zeb quietly put a bottle of tablets next to Kallus' plate, pain tabs he realized. He started to protest until he saw both Ezra and Zeb watching to make sure he took them. Rolling his eyes he did as asked. Fixing Ezra with a stare he asked, "So when's our rematch Jabba?"

[uygmoeb]

Ahh I know but still, it is ok to not reply right away and don't mind the extra wait (or unless my ask suddenly gets send to pluto and never returns xD) but I am happy to hear today is a better day for you! As it should be my bean, showers and specifically warm ones are the best for sure! Its why I take a little bit too long with them dhshdh oopsie.

Oohh well I'm no expert with jobs as I have yet to get one myself but I do always like to say, you happiness is important so if you do want to go back to the old one that is fine (of course easier said than done)

Jdjsjdjs oof yeah it can be like that, especially if you are new to the fandom as well and you're like a goldfish the entire time haha. I'm sure the gifts you made are amazing, I can very much understand the like, feeling of not feeling the most proud when it comes to creating something (especially of you say make gifs on photopea and not ps like myself) but it is the thought that counts! You put the time and effort and that is important! If someone has a problem with that, well slap them with a fish. They are not worth your time tbh. I do think pre-planning helps if you are in more than one! You can start with a basic idea of like to do or you like doing and then slowly build the idea as you get to know the person!

Right!? I know it is silly to think big cc on here you cannot talk to them but seeing as some of them are like, flippen taemin level but for tumblr it is a bit scary to talk with them at first xD but once you kinda get in the flow it isn't scary (I say this as I talk on anon for like all of the popular blogs lol) nice anons are more needed indeed. Its just wholesome to make someone just smile with a nice message and no I completely understand! Welcome to the club of overthinking auggie xD this is the cool kids club djjahdjs jokes aside I get that, especially if you can't help but think how it sounds like does it sound too sarcastic or may it sound a bit off? I don't mind long asks (as you can tell lol) because idk, I like to ramble and bounce off people when on the roll lol

Ok that shall be all, I hope you have a good day today! Stay warm and we are legit like 5 days away from the holidays ahhh ~moa Santa

i take like.. hour long showers some days it just happens i swear hskfdjfk but how've u been my love?? i know u finished all ur gifts so what else have u been up to? anything fun?

ah well i would go back if it didn't require taking a pay cut, losing manager status, and uh. moving 14 hours away from where i am now lmao i would move back if i thought i could do it by myself probably.. but that's not in the cards for me anymore and its ok, ive got a job here now and i think things are getting better

so my problem with making my gifts is my art program sucks so bad.. it leaves everything pixelated and messed up if im not super duper careful with it.. but it was free and ive had it since i was 12 probably?? and uhm change is difficult for me but honestly just u saying that made me feel better and i think im gonna go work on the first one to make it better if i can so wish me luck <3 i bet it also helps if u dont procrastinate too lol bc i procrastinated so hard and now here i am jdhfkdhs

yeah ! at some point i had to start being like 'they're just people too' like.. theyre not just a cc theyre a whole person whos probably really nice thats always been my problem anyway is thinking theyre like... above the average person, or even that they arent people kind of yknow??? does that make sense to u? sorta like the same thing some people do to idols i guess but also not quite?? idk its hard to explain how i think but i tried hskfhsl

i would like my one way ticket out of the overthinking club pls ive been overthinking for years my brain hurts :/ nah bc sometimes when i text ppl or anything like that im like. what tone am i giving rn are they gonna think im being an ass when im just joking or?? and thats why i love tone indicators so much now bc it makes it so so much easier for me and so many others too and ngl i actually prefer long asks like all the time. so much easier to ramble and pick up things to talk about which is something i've adored about yours from day one, i feel like its always been super easy to talk to u and i love that so so much u also always have made me feel comfy with u, like almost instantly too and i usually have to warm up at first

not u opening my eyes to the fact we're five days away from the holidays technically only four as im answering this but eh are u excited tho?? bc i can say that i am, i have so many gifts to give i'm so tired of waiting ! albeit i do need these days to finish a few lol besides the point ig

also adding this on about an hour and a half after i initially answered bc guess what!! i finished my gift for the event finally!! im actually rlly happy with how they turned out now after fixing some stuff :)

[lowdenfordays]

Settle Down With Me, Part One

Y’alright folks? Long time no see, how’re you getting on? Excited for Christmas (if you celebrate it)? 

So I received a request to write an imagine based on the song ‘Kiss Me’ by Ed Sheeran, and was hit by a wave of inspiration, so wrote this. It’s going to be a mini series, with probably four parts (if you saw my earlier post that said three, I changed my mind). So thanks to the anon for the request, and I hope you all like it!

Part Two

You stopped, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. The sounds rang harsh and hollow, and an eternity of silence seemed to follow it.

“Come in!” came a familiar voice from the other side, muffled but cheerful.

You opened the door to a conference room with a large table in the middle, stretching across the room, and a hive of people sat around it, with only a few empty seats scattered about. Some were chatting in hushed voices, some looked up at you as you entered, others scribbled absentmindedly on their notepads. You searched for your godfather’s face amidst the crowd, and quickly located him at the head of the table. Emma was sat to his right, and she smiled warmly at you as you met her eyes. She wasn’t technically your godmother, but you knew it wasn’t Chris who remembered to buy you a birthday card every year. You hurried towards them as Chris beckoned you over. You went to him first, acutely aware of all the eyes fixed on you. When you reached him you stood awkwardly, unsure how to greet him. You would usually go in for a hug, but this was a professional setting. You didn’t know if you were allowed to tell people that the director of the project they were all here for, one of the most renowned and talented film directors of your time, was your godfather, and he’d got you a job on the film – or even if you wanted people to know.

But he took the decision out of your hands when he stood and wrapped you in a big hug, like he had been doing since you could remember.

“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered, “Today is just about getting to know each other and setting out our vision for the film. It’ll be really casual.”

You nodded, a little shaky, before moving into Emma’s open embrace. She didn’t say anything, but held onto your hands as she pulled away and gave them a squeeze, rendering words redundant. You gave a small smile, then left to take your seat further down the table.

The producers sat closest to Chris on the one side of the table, and actors on the other, with the various departmental directors filling in further down. In your best attempt at a purposeful walk, you made you way down the room, trying not to stare at the famous faces along the way. Kenneth Branagh, Tom Hardy, Cillian Murphy, Harry bloody Styles…

You found two empty seats together and sat in the further one, hoping no one would sit next to you. The last few people filtered in and you sighed in relief as the seat remained empty.

Chris broke the relative silence by standing and announcing, “Well, we’re still waiting for Jack but I think we’d best get started without him.”

Nods of approval and the shuffling of papers signified general agreement, but just as Chris made to start the meeting, the door burst open.

 In the doorway stood a tall, slightly dishevelled-looking blonde. He wore a dark grey, woollen jacket, unbuttoned to reveal a navy-blue sweater, with a dark green tartan scarf hung loosely around his neck. He was undoubtedly stylish, but far more striking was his face. Despite his angular features, he looked soft and boyish. His hair was already fairly long, but you could see that it would go curly if it grew a little longer. He smiled sheepishly through light panting, exposing deep dimples in each cheek, and his vibrant blues eyes darted around the room. He was easily the most handsome man you had ever seen, even against the wealth of good looks that sat around that very table.

You swallowed a gasp.

“Mornin’ all, how ye daein? Sorry I’m late, the traffic this morn’ was summin’ fierce.”

Good God, he’s Scottish.

The smile in his voice rang around the room and vibrated in your chest.

This is not good. This is very not good.

“Not to worry, Jack, we’re only just starting,” Chris replied and indicated for him to sit.

You watched, fixated, as he scanned the room for a seat. He caught your gaze and grinned, prompting you to snatch your eyes away and fight the blush that threatened to creep up your neck, with questionable success. You kept your eyes trained on the pad of paper on the table in front of you, but listened as he walked around the table and sat down in the empty seat next to you. You risked a glance at him, only to find he was already looking at you. The curiosity painted on his features morphed into a smirk, and he winked at you.

Bollocks.

 You spent the meeting doing your best to concentrate on what Chris was saying, ignore the man beside you, and supress the groans of frustration that rumbled in your throat at his every movement. The vaguely sweaty musk carried across the inches between you, which was hopelessly distracting. Why does he smell so good? He fidgeted often, scratching his arm or chin, shifting in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his legs, and every time he did your mind wandered to him and his perfectly chiselled face. In the end, you had to focus so hard on concentrating that you basically wrote down every word of Chris’ brief. You had never been more relieved than when a break was announced and you could get up and get some refreshments.

 You pushed your chair out to head towards a table laid out at the back, and as you stood you saw that his scarf had fallen off the back of his chair. You picked it up, and as you straightened found yourself face to face with the blonde bombshell that you had been trying so hard not to fall in love-at-first-sight with.

“Um, this is yours, I think,” you mumbled, extending it towards him in an attempt to put something between you. He really was standing very close.

“Oh thanks very much. I should really be more careful with it,” he chuckled, “It’s new.”

“It’s very nice,” you said, trying to be polite and friendly.

“Ye know what it’s made of?”

“Boyfriend material?”

As soon as the words left your lips you were horrified. It was a just instinct, as was the heavily sarcastic tone it came dripped in, but he was sure to think you were being far too forward.

“Nay,” he said, inclining his head and fully laughing now, “Cashmere, I thought it was fancy.”

You bit your lip to hide your embarrassment. “Sorry, I guess I’ve heard that line one too many times.”

 You made your way to the refreshments table together, in silence, and each made yourself a cup of tea. You felt him watching as you poured in the milk, and had to force your hand not to shake. You didn’t know why, but he made you far more nervous than the whole experience did.

“Ye make a good brew,” he said over your shoulder, “Ye cannae trust someone who can’ make a good brew.”

You smiled, “Thanks. I’d usually make it in a teapot, but needs must.”

“Oh, she’s classy.”

You inclined your head a little smugly, but internally gasped. Where had that sudden burst of confidence come from? Your voice was steady and you somehow managed to appear sophisticated and nonchalant. In an attempt to quit while you were ahead, you shuffled to a relatively quiet corner and cradled your drink, but were surprised to see that he had followed you over.

“I’m Jack, by the way.”

“Y/N”, you replied and took his outstretched hand.

With a knowing look he asked, “Is this yer first time workin’ on a film?”

You nodded, “How did you guess?” with a mix of sarcasm and curiosity.

“Ye wrote down Chris’ every word. I get it though, got massive respect for the guy but he’s a wee bit intimidating. I feel like I have te learn everything I can from ‘im.”

Little he knew, you couldn’t be further from intimidated by Chris, and it was his own charisma that had you furiously scribbling. For some reason, however, you felt disinclined to tell him about your relationship with Chris, and only nodded.

“So what’s yer role on the film then?”

“I’m a sort of assisting assistant director, I guess. I’m pretty sure my official title is ‘General Dogsbody’. You can call me GD for short.”

That made him laugh richly, causing a warm, joyful tingling to rush over your body in a way that you had never experienced before.

“It’s a foot in the industry though, once ye’ve go’ that, as long as ye work hard, ye’re set.”

“Well, that’s the idea anyway.”

“How’d ye manage te get the job?”

Internally cursing, you opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish, trying to come up with a way to sidestep the question without outright lying.

“Umm…”

Thankfully, you were saved by a dark, curly-haired man whom you recognised as one of the actors, rushing up to Jack and crushing him in a hug.

“Jack, mate, how’ve you been?”

You stood awkwardly as they caught up briefly, clearly friends beforehand. But after a moment Jack looked over to you and smiled, “Aneurin, this is Y/N, she’s a GD. Oh sorry, an AD.”

You giggled, and marvelled that you had known his man for an hour but already had an inside joke with him.

“Okay everyone, that’s great. I think we can call it a day.”

You sighed in relief, all but dead on your feet. You’d just finished a busy day, filming on the beach in the morning with Fionn, Harry and Ni, then doing some spitfire stuff with Jack in the afternoon. You technically didn’t need to be there for the afternoon, but you liked seeing Jack in his uniform. Anyway, you were there to learn, so that’s what you were doing whenever you had the chance. It was still very early days in the shoot but you were already knackered. This film-making business was hard work. Chris had given you the role of organising the lads, to keep them in check and on schedule, as well as being a runner on set. He’d even consulted you on a shot once or twice, but you reckoned that was probably just to make you feel a bit important.

“How’re you doing petal?” Chris cooed, pulling the monitor off from round his neck and wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a sideways embrace.

“I’m good, just tired. These early mornings are killer. How about you though? Your job is much harder than mine!”

He smiled, “I’m doing what I love, it’s never a chore.”

As Jack was clambering out of the spitfire, you noticed out of the corner of your eye that he was watching your exchange with some curiosity. When he caught your eye, he shot you a quizzical look, one eyebrow raised and brow furrowed. You looked away, ashamed that you still hadn’t told him that Chris was your godfather, and focused on the ground as Chris placed an affectionate kiss on your head.

You scuttled off to your hotel room faster than usual to avoid Jack’s inevitable questions.

 That evening, after you’d had a warm shower and some food, you were sat cross-legged on your bed, enjoying some well-earned me time. Much to your displeasure, however, it was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Y/N!” Harry sing-songed through the door; of course it was Harry.

You unfolded your limbs and got up to open the door.

“What do you want?” you huffed.

“Don’t be mardy, come hang out. We’re all in Glynn-Carney’s room.”

“I’m in my comfies.”

“Comfies?” Harry smirked.

You rolled your eyes and pointed at your sweats and baggy jumper – sweater paws and all.

“Oh who cares. Look, doesn’t a bottle of wine and some good company sound better than sitting here on your own?”

“The company is questionable at best, but the wine is tempting.”

 Harry led you down the corridor and the door was opened to reveal a group of already giddy twenty-something year olds and more than a few bottles.

“There’s a little more than a bottle of wine here I see. Who started on the whiskey?”

Everyone instantly pointed to Jack, who shamelessly raised his hand.

“Dumb question,” you muttered.

You sat down, and took the glass of wine offered to you.

 “So, Miss Y/N, you’re in charge of us, right?” Tom said with a twinkle in his eye, “What shall we do?”

“I don’t know,” you scoffed, “Watch a film or something?”

“We were thinkin’ summin’ more along the lines o’ a drinking game” Barry chuckled.

“We have work tomorrow. I don’t think Chris would be too pleased if we all show up hungover.”

“Best make it something enlightening and/or educational then,” Aneurin grinned.

“Enlightening and/or educational,” you huffed in disbelief. “You can wipe that shit-eating grin off your face Ni,” you laughed, somehow expelling the disgruntled attitude from you. “We’ll play truths. Someone asks you an uncomfortable question, you answer or you drink. It’s a bonding exercise, so we can get to know each other better.”

 They seemed to like your idea, and began asking each other questions, which were mostly, unsurprisingly, sex-orientated. When it was Jack’s turn to ask you a question, he rounded on you and asked, without hesitation, “What is the nature of your relationship with Christopher Nolan?”

Harry gasped and exclaimed, “Is Y/N screwing the director! You sly fox!”

“Ew, no mate, he’s her godfather,” Fionn corrected, hitting him on the arm.

You shrugged, indicating that it was true, and looked a little sheepishly at Jack. You watched as the realisation dawned on his face. “Wait, Fionn, how did you know?” he questioned, once he had fully processed the information.

“Viv told me.” Vivienne, the head make-up artists, was a notorious gossip and somehow knew everything about everyone. You all nodded in understanding.

“Well, now you know,” you said with a little uneasiness, “Let the piss-taking commence, I suppose.”

“Us lot? Take the piss? Never. Anyway, it’s not like you’re only person on the film that’s not here purely on merit… oh wait.” Harry grinned.

“Purely on merit, Styles? I thought you were just here to bring in the teenage girl demographic,” you retorted, followed by a chorus of ‘ooohh’s.

Thinking you’d got off the hook with your question, you tried to move on, but before you could, Barry proclaimed, “Y/N needs a new question, she didn’t even answer tha’ one.”

“What’s your sexual fantasy?” Tom piped up.

You groaned, as your eyes skipped to Jack’s for just a second. You were unwilling to share, as in recent weeks your sexual fantasy had involved one blonde-haired, blue-eyed Scottish arsehole, so instead took a big gulp of your drink.

Part Two

[lukeysgirl]

The Note Tree ❋ L.H. Pt.7

Part S E V E N 

Summary: A cherry blossom tree, residing at the farthest part of the schools courtyard. Nobody dwelled there, and you didn’t care much for it. Until you kept hearing one song played over and over, with lyrics changed to touch at your curiosity. They knew you were listening, and one day you gave in and made your way to the pink tree. Waiting for you, a series of notes tied to a single strand of string.

Word Count: 3k+

AN: eep, i came back early from my small vacation aha ^^ anyways, hi! im so happy you guys are getting to like this series (makes me smile lots). im so sorry this part was a little delayed as i was away w/o my pc. but im here and will try to write much faster x oh, and 100 notes please <3 

Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

I M A G I N E 

Sunday 

After sleeping through the rest of Saturday, you decided to stroll outside on a Sunday morning. And, of course, it was raining. 

You draped on a large, gray sweater, the kind that was actually hand knit and not a generic made from a company. Your legs were hugged by navy blue leggings, which was ornate with unintentional holes. You shoved on a pair of green-gray Converse as you walked down the middle of the quiet, vacant road. 

Your head was buzzing. Your body was slowly adapting back to its usual, completely-in-control setting as you slowly trotted down the road. The black road ornate with yellow streaks worth of paint shined from Natures produce. You felt the cool dollops moisten your face, feeling somewhat refreshed but annoyed. It hadn’t occurred to you to get an umbrella until you were too far to go back for one. 

As you walked slowly, you suddenly found light making the road glisten before you. A honk proceeded, and that’s when your brain crashed. Pain ensured through your skull as you quickly held your head with your hand. A loud, high-pitched beep began in  your ears, and you had begun offering deals to the Devil to make it all stop. So you walked over to the sidewalk, as that’s what you assumed the car wanted. But it remained still when you moved, so you turned to look over in curiosity. 

“What the fuck are you doing in this rain?” A distant voice called, having you squint your eyes to see Luke Hemmings in the drivers seat. Just your luck. “Get in here!” 

The Australian’s beckoning made you somewhat reluctant, but it was Luke. Your eyes scanned his ride, seeing a black colored who-knows-what right before you. It wasn’t required to know car names or brands, so you hadn’t been bothered to fill your mind with none of that. Slowly, you welcomed yourself back on the road before opening the door to shotgun and hopping in. 

“What’re you doing out in the rain like that, Y/N?” Luke demanded, his voice 10 times as loud as you slowly and gently closed the car door. You hissed in pain, waving at him to lower his volume as you clipped the seat belt on. “Hungover?” 

“Apparently,” you muttered, your voice sounding incredibly muffled. Your eyes diverted to Luke to eye him a bit. White tee, black jeans, black converse-- the usual with Luke. His lanky being was bent due to the seat, but his posture was proper with his blonde hair droopy and weak due to the rainfall. It was strange to see Luke out of school, even if that has happened often before. But this was a first to actually hop into the boys car. 

“I’ll shut off my music then,” Luke said simply as he disconnected his iPhone from the AUX cord that was connected to the car. You appreciated this gesture and mumbled a quick thank you as Luke also began winding up the windows. “Back to my ask, though. Why are you out in the rain like that?” 

“Like what?” You asked, looking down at your damp clothing. “I’m not butt naked, Hemmings.” 

“But you could’ve at least tried to stay dry,” Luke said quietly, having you watch as he twisted his torso to direct his body to the back of his car. He began reaching for something, having pain annoy your eyes when diverting towards the back. 

“I forgot my umbrella when it was too late,” you admitted, yawning right after. Tears began collecting in your eyes from it, indicating your exhaustion as Luke stopped his digging. Suddenly, Luke had tossed a warm objected on your lap. You felt the car begin to move as you stared down at the basil-colored object. It was a blanket, almost a small quilt as you rubbed your hands upon its silky texture. You opened it to spread it some more, feeling it cover all of your legs as you tugged it a bit up to cover your torso. You unintentionally too a whiff, and found it to smell exactly like Luke. 

“Have you eaten yet?” Luke asked quietly, having you look up at the windshield to see nothing but wet road. Water droplets hit the window as the wipers kept coming in on beat to smear them away. You shook your head no, too tired to keep using your vocals as you watched the road. “Alright, let’s go to a diner.” 

“I don’t have that kind of money,” you admitted embarrassingly. 

“I didn’t ask if you did,” Luke said simply, shutting you down as you watched the road in defeat. 

The two of you were seated in a booth, across from one another. 

80s music boomed the restaurant, thanking the restaurant mentally for the choice of Michael Jackson. People were ornate all over the retro scene, most of them being seniors. Wisps of red and shiny silver were the rhythm of the place, with waitresses forced to wear yellow polo’s and short, red skirts. They were skating around the place, having you question if they could be good at ice skating. 

“Order whatever you’d like,” Luke began, giving you his genuine, small smile as he held up his menu. You left yours lying on the table, studying the disgusting stains of food from previous customers. You then shut your eyes as you pushed your menu a bit away from you. “Do you already know what you want?” 

“I’m not eating anything,” you muttered, your sight pitch black as you listened to Billie Jean dance around the joint. 

“Oh?” Luke responded in a shocked tone. “Why not?” 

“Because you’re trying to pay for it,” you admitted with a gulp. “And I’m not in the mood to bother with debt.” 

“Then tell me this: why didn’t you eat at home?” Luke asked, having you open your eyes at his words. You couldn’t come up with a valid point without exposing the entirety of your life, having you purse your lips as you looked down at the menu. 

“I’m not hungry,” you lied, twiddling your thumbs as you listened to the rain become more harsh beside you. You were far too stubborn, and you could admit that proudly. Everyone hated owing people. Especially owing to someone as kind as Luke Hemmings. 

“Then I’ll just order everything on the menu, and eat as much as I can,” Luke began, diverting your eyes to see his stern expression. You were in disbelief, attempting to find bluff somewhere in his ocean eyes. But they hadn’t dared stared somewhere else, seeing nothing but seriousness in them. Luke then turned over and rose his arm, his eyes searching for a body. “Waitress!” 

“I’ll have pancakes,” you spat, grumpily slugging into the uncomfortable, red couch of the booth as a skater girl came over. She rose her notepad over, barely looking at you before ogling Luke. 

“What would you like?” The waitress asked kindly, seeming unsatisfied with her own performance. It was likely she thought you and Luke were a thing and was unable to flirt with him. You felt bad for mentally laughing at the girl as Luke told her the orders. You were far too tired to be bothered to stare her down and take in her appearance and features. As soon as she left, you diverted your eyes back to Luke and crinkled your nose. 

“She wanted to get in your pants,” you respond bluntly, having Luke snort before taking a sip of his tap water. He was quick to drop his smile and stared at you intensely, having you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Why were you so mean with Nadia?” Luke asked, having you stare at his immensely stern face. How did he get that from her wanting to fuck him? 

“Ha ha,” you sarcastically laughed as you grabbed your own cup and took a sip. “It’s not like I want to be. I’d rather save my energy than lash at her.” And that was the full and utter truth. 

“Then what was with the cruel remarks?” Luke began quietly. “I understand you defend yourself when she’s being a bitch, but it seemed like you had a genuine grudge on her.” 

“Ah, she was being dumb earlier at the party at the bar,” you said simply as you grabbed the covered straw at the side and began opening it. “She had started by calling me ugly, but that’s not the thing that really pissed me off.” 

“Oh? Enlighten me.” You felt suddenly challenged by Luke for some reason. It was stupid to request elaboration from you when your words should be the most trusted. At least, in your opinion. 

“I mean, she called Des an ape and made fun of Savannah’s dyslexia,” you replied, dropped the straw in the cup and watched it swirl down until it hit the bottom. You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling goosebumps dry from the coolness of the restaurant striking at your fairly damp clothing. “So if you wanted me to stand there like a useless piece of shit, you’ve got to be some sort of stupid. Racist and ignorant, that girl.” 

“Alex splashed her beer on her,” Luke tries. You laughed bitterly. 

“I don’t control the girl, but she needed to cool down,” you joked, but Luke didn’t take that kindly. He slammed both of his hands on the table, having it shake while releasing a very loud noise. Pairs of eyes around you diverted to your booth, having you look at Luke in shock as he looked immensely annoyed. A vein was crawling up his left temple as he studied you angrily. Intense ripples developed in both cups of water as it danced to the center of the cups before returning to the rims. 

“Stop acting like you were justified!” Luke barked, leaving you slightly agape as his ocean eyes danced with vexation. “I get what she said was disgusting but you’re not the bigger man here!” 

“Lower your fucking voice with me, Hemmings,” you growled, refusing to take that from him. Your heartbeat was loud and clear in your head, making your skull throb with Luke’s loud tone adding to it. “I don’t fucking understand what you want me to do-- apologize? You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’ll be doing that.” 

“No, but you should realize that you were not completely in the right here,” Luke barked, bending his fingers as the tips were firmly on the table. “Alexis went a little too far and you should not be proud of her.” 

“Why the hell are you trying to scold me like you’re my boyfriend?” You spat, having Luke’s eyes somewhat lighten from your words. You held yourself from saying father. “You’re clearly not my boyfriend, Luke, so don’t start.” You then stared a little more and allowed gears to run in your head. “Oh I see...” 

“See what?” 

“You’re her boyfriend, huh?” You accused, having you lean back and let out a cold chuckle. “What a catch she is. No wonder why you couldn’t help yourself last night and let me get taken by another pair of arms.” 

“Your assumptions are beyond me sometimes, Y/N,” Luke said with an awestruck smile. “I’m not dating Nadia, nor will I ever want to. It wasn’t my fault that you chose to let Nathan take you home. Did he even take you to your house?” 

“Oh man,” you dragged, smiling from disbelief as you stared at the obviously jealous Luke. “Are you jealous, Luke?” 

“Yes, I fucking am!” Luke barked, placing his forehead on his hand to let out an aggravated sigh. You shook your head, slightly pissed that he was using up your energy just because he was a little jealous. “I said I love you, Y/N. Did you think I’d be cool with Nathan taking you home?” 

“I asked you to take me home, Luke,” you began darkly, having Luke’s face soften. His eyebrows rose, his blue eyes turned like the sky, and those rough lips barely parted. “Did you think I was cool with Nathan taking me home?” Luke fell silent, having you let out a shaky sigh as you stacked the two menus and leaned it at the edge for a waitress to come and retrieve them. “That’s what I thought.” 

“But you didn’t do anything,” Luke began quietly, diverting his eyes down to his lap. “You didn’t beg for me to come over, you didn’t try to get out of his arms. You didn’t let me do what you asked of me, Y/N.” 

“Luke, I was fucking drunk,” you began, having Luke wince as you spewed those words. “I was drunk, and at that time, I relied on you. We’re not close, but you always put in effort in finding reason to be around me so I trusted you more than anyone there. My girlfriends were too busy having a ball and I didn’t want to ruin that for them. I didn’t want to ruin that for you either but I really wanted your help just this once. And I know how much you want to help me.” 

“Y/N...” Luke muttered, allowing himself to trail off so you can continue. But he didn’t stop there. “You left with that prick anyways, even when I was calling your name.” 

“Did you think I wanted to?” You glared at Luke, unsure as to how stupid he could really be. “Nathan took me home because you let me go and he caught me. I was drunk and he just so happened to pop up and steal your damn thunder. So I’m sorry if you’re mad but the only thing I owe you was going to the party and I did go. That’s it.” 

The two of you held an annoying silence. The several pairs of eyes remained as you locked eyes with Luke. His azure orbs glistened, seeing the pupils shake as they dilated. A sudden fatigue arrived and you found yourself moving towards the window to lean your head against the window. Luke watched you, seeing you stare outside where the rain was pouring and bodies of waters walked around with their portable roofs worth of umbrellas. 

“I’m sorry,” Luke said gently but you were quick to wave him off. 

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” you said simply while diverting your eyes back to the blonde. He moved over as well so he could be exactly across from you. “I’m only taking it if it’s solely over raising your voice at me because my head is searing right now.” 

“Ah shit, m’sorry, Y/N,” Luke began, his cheeks flaring pink as he as well leaned his head on the window. You two locked a stare and stayed there for a few moments to cherish the quietness. But the noise surged back after the two of you had quieted down and that made you disappointed. “I’m glad he took you home though. He gets some tolerance for that.” 

“Oh wow, how rewarding,” you began sarcastically, allowing a soft smile to paint your lips as Luke smiled back. You didn’t want to admit, but his gentle smiles were very sweet and full of warmth. It made the coolness that you currently felt disappear. “You’re something else, Luke.” 

“Ditto,” Luke said with a small snort. His sharp nose crinkled a bit as he did and something hit your heart so suddenly right after. “I’m surprised you didn’t have some dignified last words before storming out of the diner in the rain.” 

“D’you think this is a real like teenage drama show?” You exclaimed, having Luke chuckle as you rolled your eyes. “You wish. It’s effort to be petty, Luke. I’d also like to point out that the rain is falling onto earth like fucking bullets, so you’re insane if you thought I was gonna storm out of here over that.” 

“Ha,” Luke hummed, grinning at your stupid pun as you gave him a small smile. “I still am sorry for that really brief argument I started. Is there anything I could do to prove it?” 

Before you could say a thing, your waitress returned to place several plates of food on the booth’s table. Fluffy hot cakes with eggs and bacon, ornate with pepper and salts of the spice family. Bowls of berries that looked too much like art to even be real. Cups of milk and orange juice joined the party as she grabbed your menus. You and Luke muttered your gratitude, receiving a simple nod before she skated away. 

“Then I guess this will be it,” you began quietly. “I won’t pay for my meal and I won’t force you to take my money because I said I owed you.” 

That’s when Luke erupted with laughter. You watched as he covered his mouth, uttering soft laughter from his mouth as his eyes squinted. Through the slivers, you could see his blue eyes gradually being coated with hysterical tears as he let out his laughs. You could help but grin at how endearing it was. 

“Y/N,” Luke began as he picked up a fork and a knife. He sliced a fine cut of his hotcakes and took it in his mouth, chewing quickly before forcing it down. “I wasn’t going to take your money anyways.” You rolled your eyes, picking up your utensils as you looked at his triumph smile. 

“And you thought I was going to give you the money directly?” You hummed, cutting your own pancakes slowly. “I was going to hide it in a common place where you’d sift it out and find it. A pleasant surprise that’ll take you a few minutes to realize why it was there.” 

“Then you can keep your money,” Luke chuckled. 

“Huh?” You responded with a puzzled expression. “Why?” 

“Because the money would end up at my dick and I’d have to pay you for the service,” Luke replied cheekily, having you flush before throwing one of your blueberries at him. 

“PG, Hemmings,” you hissed, having him laugh as he took another bite of his food into his mouth. 

you already know-- tell me what you think right over here please and i hope you guys enjoyed this xx