#I haven't put in this much wrong highlights in a book without putting it down in ages

[emptymanuscript]

Eeehhwwwgggh, it got worse.

Horror’s basic distinction of life versus death is a binary opposition that allows for no complexity: one is either dead or alive.

Truby, John. The Anatomy of Genres: How Story Forms Explain the Way the World Works (p. 24). Picador. Kindle Edition.

And hoo boy, no. That is not correct.

Again, anybody with less clout and knowledge, 1 star and DNF. At this point I'm probably going to refuse to give more than 3 stars because even if he does pull it out, he's presenting things in an ass backwards enough way that I think it will do more harm than good.

How do you write the brilliance of the anatomy of story and then go on to write this drivel however long later??

What the hell, man???

[cellophaine]

Chapter VIII: FOOT FAULT

Masterlist

Pairing: Art Donaldson x F!Reader

Warnings: Major angst.

Author's Note: Strap in and enjoy the ride 🫡 there will be even more turbulence from now on

GIF Source

Ever since that day, your contact with Art had been far and few between. Every time you texted him, he would respond much later and in brief sentences. The conversations would always start and end with your message, and often about Art trying to balance school, practice, and Tashi. You weren't on that list, even though he apologized for not being able to see you as much. Disappointment wasn't at the forefront of your mind whenever you reread the recent messages. Still, it had smouldered into something hard to ignore.

The surgery was over a week ago, and you hadn't seen Art since. You told yourself that he was being a good friend to Tashi like he was to you, but a part of you couldn't help but think there was more to it. Your mind had started to accumulate the evidence that had always been there: the lingering look at Tashi, the tempestuous shout at Patrick, and the lack of dialogue between the two of you. The underpainting had taken shape on the canvas, and the finer details began to fill in with your overthinking. You forced yourself to look away from the easel despite being the one holding the brush. To acknowledge it was to admit that Art was only using you, to accept the fact that you weren't enough to be a worthy person in someone else's life, only to be a temporary placeholder, was too much to bear. Your heart fractured, morsel by morsel, when you thought about how his affection wasn't even for you.

The very possibility of it occupied so much of your mind that you were consumed by the thought. Ravenous was its nature; it feasted on the fact that Art hadn't tried to stay in touch with you as much as you had. It revelled in the insecurities that had resurfaced in such a short time. The neverending cycle ran you haggard, and despite your conscious effort to take yourself out of it, it went on.

You barely left your room these days. When your roommates asked you to hang out with them, you would come up with excuses not to. Without Art, you felt like you didn't have anything to do or anywhere to be besides classes and work. And when you weren't at either place, you would be at the library, obsessively watching Art and Patrick's old tennis matches. There was undeniable chemistry between them, and they complimented each other, highlighting the best part about their respective skill set. Patrick was an extension of Art, and vice versa. A bond like that was hard to break, and from the exchanges you'd seen, one on the polar opposite of the other, you wondered if there was anything else underneath all of this.

/

On an unexpected night, while you perused the reading material for the following week's class, your phone vibrated with Art's name lit up the screen. A rush of excitement, tinged with a touch of nervousness, ran under your skin. You put the book down and let the phone ring three more times before picking up.

"Hey."

"Hey stranger."

You cheekily added. At that, Art chuckled softly. The low vibrato of his voice reminded you of just how much you'd missed him.

"Uhm– so, how are you?"

At your eager question, Art sighed. A muffled sound came from his end, the sound of him running a hand through his hair.

"I'm … alright. I'm sorry I haven't called much. Midterm was awful, and practices have been a lot, and, uh …"

He trailed off. You completed the sentence for him.

"… Tashi."

"Yeah."

His answer settled low in the air between you. It stalled the usual effortless flow of your conversations, rendered you speechless, and he, too. You prodded the fragile silence, and it gave away under the push of your careful voice like a shaky sigh.

"It's okay. I haven't had much free time either. Are you doing okay though?"

"I'm fine … for the most part."

The hesitation in his wording piqued your curiosity. Art wouldn't have said that if nothing was wrong.

"What's with the other part?"

A moment of silence stretched over the thinning air. You added.

"Art. You can tell me anything. I'm here to listen."

Another sigh slithered from the other end to the speaker.

"I don't know how to say it, but at the same time, I feel like it's so obvious. I … miss Patrick. But I'm also mad at him for what he's … done."

His incertitude on the latter part made you feel like he wanted to withhold the information itself.

"Hm, I see. From the sound of your shouting it must be something serious."

Art had gone so quiet that you couldn't even hear his breathing. Your voice was barely a whisper when you called out to him.

"Art?"

"Did you catch all of that?"

"Yes, I did."

You toyed with the hem of your shirt between your fingers before continuing with uncertainty. Unsure if you should pursue this.

"I've never heard you shout like that. You must've been really mad."

"Yeah, I was."

"What happened? Did they get into a fight?"

"Yeah, right before the match."

"What did they fight about?"

The nervous twists of your fingers had left fleeting creases on the fabric as you released it from your grasp.

"Tashi didn't say much, … except for the fact that Patrick might be seeing other girls while on tour."

"You're his friend, did he tell you anything about seeing other girls?"

From suspicion born uneasiness in the pit of your stomach as Art prolonged the silence. You tried again, your voice laced with resolution, unwavering.

"Art. How did Tashi come to that conclusion?

"… I don't know."

"Did you say something to her? To both of them?"

"I might have mentioned Patrick's… tendency to have multiple options at the same time."

"Well, it doesn't mean he's not serious about Tashi."

"But he's my friend. I know him. He's always been a player. And he's… you never know with him. Whether he's genuine or not."

"He's your friend. Don't you think he deserves more grace than what you give him? What if it was different with Tashi?"

"I was just trying to look out for her!"

"That's not looking out for your friends. That's meddling and you know it."

"If my meddling could make them fight so easily then they'd never been good for each other in the first place!"

"That's not up to you to decide!"

You couldn't believe that you yelled at him. You exhaled sharply, trying to regain some control and wishing you hadn't said anything at all. But it was too late. It was like putting back a broken vase, but it was splintered in so many tiny fragments that the more you tried, the worse you hurt yourself.

"Look, it's late, and I'm tired. Can we pick this up another time?"

There was an edge to his voice, and somehow, you knew that this conversation would never be brought up again.

"Sure."

You swallowed your fighting words, knowing if you persisted, it wouldn't end well, even though it was too little too late. After saying goodbye, you hung up with a heavy heart. The heavy fog of your argument closed in on you, turning the air you breathed into suffocation.

For days after, your contact was reduced to none. You abandoned the ongoing draft in the notebook Art gifted you and directed your attention to something else. The inspiration you'd drawn had become a withering reflection of the past, of everything good in your relationship. Nothing could revive it; the only thing left was the dwindling hope that things would be alright between the two of you again. You buried yourself in all the other aspects of your life, hoping you could, at the very least, not think about Art so often. But it was impossible. His imprints on you were branded marks, a thing of permanence on your mind and skin.

/

In the quiet hour of the afternoon, the rhythmic sound of a pen hitting paper sounded louder than the whispered small talk from the only two customers in the cafe. The sentence was left like an unfinished thought, and you were searching for the words to wrap it up. The literary competition at Stanford was announced two days ago, and you immediately got to work. For the prized money and a feature in the school's newspaper, you weren't going to pass it up.

The bell above the door rang. You pulled your eyes away from the half-written page to settle on the new customer with a smile on your face.

"Welcome …"

Art stood there, holding the door open for Tashi. She walked in with a pair of crutches, thanking him. His eyes trained on you for a moment before tearing away. His brief gaze was enough to draw heat to your skin. Tashi slowly and carefully made her way to the counter with Art's arms hovered around her. She smiled at you.

"So, this is the place. My friends have been raving about the drinks here. Him, too."

She inclined her head at Art. He only smiled and said nothing in return. You realized then he wasn't going to introduce the two of you. You maintained a polite smile and what you hoped to be a friendly manner.

"Do you want any recommendations?"

"Yes, please. I love anything with berries in it."

"Then I have the drink for you."

You explained what went in it, and Tashi approved with a nod. Only then did you turn to Art.

"Do you want your usual, Art?"

You looked at him pointedly. His face warmed as he pretended to consider the options, even though, up until two weeks ago, he knew the menu inside and out. Tashi's gaze travelled back and forth between you and Art.

"Do you guys know each other?"

You fixed him with a look, daring him to own up to it. He finally conceded and introduced the two of you.

"I think Art mentioned you once or twice."

"Did he?"

"Yeah, you're his friend. Were you the one who came to check on me after …"

She trailed off.

"I did."

Tashi gave you a rueful smile.

"Thank you for that."

"Don't mention it. How are you doing now?"

She looked down at her knee brace briefly.

"Slowly but surely recovering."

"Take care of yourself. You'll be back to playing again in no time."

"I hope so."

Tashi gave a sad smile, and you mirrored with more assurance. You wanted to dislike her, but you felt nothing but sympathy for her. Art watched the whole exchange wordlessly. You broke eye contact with Tashi to address Art.

"Do you want your usual, Art?"

He nodded, and you told them the total. You watched as Art paid for Tashi despite her refusal. Jealousy flared hot and heavy in your chest, yearning to take back Tashi's place that used to belong to you. But who were you to him to feel this way?

You dropped the change into his hand and pulled away quickly as if you were burned by the thought of your skin touching. You didn't make eye contact and walked away quickly, and though you knew it was rude, you couldn't help it. Your bottled-up feeling was barely contained now; it bubbled and wanted to break free of its confinement. The sound of their soft-spoken exchange churned your inside, making you sick with envy. You made the drinks, and like a habit, you grabbed a marker to put a heart on Art's. But you caught yourself and set the marker down.

You pushed the drinks towards them. The smile on your face felt strained now, and you weren't sure how much longer you could keep this up. You settled for a small wave as opposed to a verbal goodbye, but Tashi interrupted your thought.

"It's very nice to meet you."

You reciprocated her smile.

"You, too."

You looked at Art briefly before wordlessly turning away, making yourself busy with an inane task. With their backs to you, you discreetly stared at their closeness. Despite knowing your problem wasn't with Tashi, you couldn't help but feel envious. You wished you could be her. Beautiful, talented, and doused in Art's attention. With a conscious effort, you tore your teary eyes away from them and set your sight on the open notebook on the counter. If you lingered for a moment longer, you would have caught Art's eyes looking back at you with a longing that you were all too familiar with. Only this time, unbeknownst to you, you were on the receiving end.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated! I'd love to read your thoughts on the story!

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[royallpetrichor]

Okay so I haven't posted in like 12 years and I know I'm like a week late, but what's everyone's thoughts on the live-action ATLA teaser? I'm genuinely very interested to know, because I certainly have thoughts, and I've definitely seen some polarised opinions. What do you like about it, and are you worried about anything?

Anyway, my long personal thoughts are below the keep reading line. I probably haven't said anything super new, or any hot takes but they're there.

First, what I loved about the teaser. It looked visually stunning! The shot composition all looked amazing (to someone who knows nothing about film), the visual tone was definitely there, and the set design was gorgeous! The entire time I was just going "oh my god, oh my god, oh my god" but in a good way. The characters especially look great. In particular, I loved Suki, Aang, and Zuko. I know some people were disappointed with how the characters looked, but I really think it's the best we could have gotten considering the wide disconnect between animation and live-action, and I think it's something people need to remember.

The acting obviously hasn't been shown very much, so it's still up in the air in that regard. I've been trying to convince myself I'm cautiously optimistic, but quite honestly I've gone straight to pure excitement, despite my worries.

We're also getting more flashbacks, as shown by the fact there's a scene of the Air Nomad genocide. More worldbuilding and backstory is definitely something I'm very happy about, so I'm excited to see where it goes. The thing that stumps me on it is whether they're going to do it well. In the film that shall not be named, Shyamalan put references to the original show everywhere, but he never took the time to understand why they worked. It was like he wanted us to say "Wow! They said the thing!!!!!" as if we'd clap at the screen without actually thinking about anything. I'm really, really hoping that's not the case here.

The tone is definitely something that people are concerned about, myself included. The teaser was very serious and dramatic. Of course, the show has those moments but it's overall very lighthearted. It's a show about friendship first and foremost, and those positive messages are highlighted throughout the series. I'm hoping this teaser is more Netflix saying "Look at these cool effects!" and less "This is the overall tone of the entire series!".

The humour also comes to play in this. ATLA has a lot of jokes. You know this, I know this, they work, I don't have to talk about it. I'm curious about the humor in the live-action series because a lot of the humour in ATLA works because the show is animated, and wouldn't work in the live-action setting. In the film that shall not be named, Shyamalan tried to take jokes from the show, but they just fell completely flat because it was the completely wrong genre and just created tonal dissonance.

The last big thing I'm worried about is the characters, particularly Katara and Zuko.

I'm worried about Katara, because film has had this tendency in the past (and I know this is probably outdated) to "tone down" a female character's more "unsavoury/unladylike" traits. This is a bad example but it's the best my brain can come up with, but Hermione in the HP films compared to the books. In the films she was smart, brave, never wrong, and never made fun of. In the books, she was smart, yes, but also naive, and really mean and judgy sometimes.

Katara is a strong female character because she's not perfect. She's hotheaded and can hold a mean grudge, but those make her who she is. Also, in the film that does not exist, other character's strong moments are inexplicably given to Katara to make her more "badass" without actually putting in the work for her.

I'm worried about Zuko for an entirely different reason. I'm scared they'll "tone back" his assholeness in the first season, and possibly even give us his backstory a lot sooner. I really don't want this, because the whole reason his redemption arc works is because he was a villain first. He did bad things, but he atoned for them. His backstory explains his actions but doesn't excuse them. If we're sympathetic to him too early, the payoff is going to feel a lot cheaper, and like he didn't actually work to make himself better because he was already there.

Okay wow that was a lot, but that sums up all of my thoughts/concerns/excitement for the show. I'm really stoked to see where they go with it, and even if it's a disaster I'll probably enjoy it anyway honestly.

[elrielffs]

I dont like how the nesta stans completely switched up on feyre after acosf. Nesta treated feyre horribly and had the nerve to called gwyn and emerie her sisters. it took her to finally say I love you on feyre's death bed! she has the audacity to get upset when there wasnt photo of her or something in feyre's home? like did you forget about what youve done? feyre never got an apology. shes deserves one. elain is just as guilty, too. im tired of people acting like elain is innocent.

Yah, that was one aspect of ACOSF that was a real let down for me. Don't get me wrong, I loved the Valkyries and their friendship, it was the highlight of the book for me but calling them her sisters was a bit much imo. You've known them for 6 months and haven't really hit that threshold of issues that can challenge your relationship to each other...it's been uncomplicated unlike your actual sisters so ofc it's easy.

I also didn't like when they told Nesta she had nothing to apologize for because uh...yes, she did. Not everything Nesta did was awful and not every way that she was treated was justifiable but Nesta was really in the wrong a lot....which is why she had a whole book and healing journey to overcome that. Nesta didn't change...she's still Nesta but without the maliciousness meanness that she couldn't control.

I really wanted more sister reconciliation, not some grand gesture that puts a band aid on everything. Feyre's pregnancy didn't bother me (except we didn't get her POV of it...) I can even wave the whole fix Cassian's guts things but can't do a C-Section for THE DRAMA.

But the gesture from Nesta felt unearned because there was no actual work put into the relationship. I could see it being a culmination of many conversations or scenes where she and Feyre worked through their shit but nah, slapped a band aid on that and call it a day.

Don't get me wrong, I like that Nesta was more complicated and had to work thru the darker and meaner parts of herself, it makes her interesting to read about but I don't like how some fans act like Nesta didn't do anything wrong. The beauty of SJM and ACOTAR is no character is perfectly good, they feel real, they fuck up, the make mistakes, they aren't above criticism.

Another thing that bothers me is when Nesta says both she and Feyre were awful. Yeah, Feyre isn't perfect but I don't think ya'll have the same equivalent of awfulness, okay Nesta?

And yah, Elain is my favorite, my baby, my angel but she also isn't perfect in that scenario which is GOOD. Characters should be multifaceted and have flaws. Elain could have done more to help Feyre, not the growing vegetables thing, but still, there's other things she could have done on top of emotionally bridging the gap with Feyre instead of letting Nesta be a wall between them.

I think the difference between Nesta and Elain is though that Nesta came from a place of maliciousness while Elain's comes from complacency and neglect. They were both wrong but the intent was different and I think that's why it's easier for people to forgive Elain.

Really, ACOSF is such a 50/50 book. There were great things and then...not great things. When it works well it really does and when it falls flat it hits the ground.

And the switch up on Feyre and the IC to me feels like someone is easily swayed and can't shake recency bias (in this case, ACOSF being the last ACOTAR book we got). Both Feyre and Nesta have biased povs and I can't stand when people try say Feyre is biased but Nesta isn't.

[4aloysius-porteu]

i really wish i hated you || tsukishima kei

masterlist | 1 | 2 | chapter 3

pairing: tsukishima kei x f! reader

sypnosis: It was an accident that (Y/N) met a certain tall, blonde male; a memory she isn't fond of remembering, but it is where it all started. And ever since, she magically makes her to his path. The image of the bespectacled man dwelled in her mind more than she thought. Tsukishima pushed away his softer emotions and denied their existence, or at least that's what he told himself. But then, he couldn't believe that this girl he labeled as a clumsy, unlucky creature who smashed his glasses is slowly bringing these strange emotions back to him. She might be irritating and dumb sometimes, but he couldn't get himself to completely hate her. Either that destiny was stupid, or he was blessed or cursed.

genre: fanfiction, fluff

wc: 2.6k

She has met the tall, blonde, and bespectacled male yet again.

"Oh, the midget stalker is here."

"You again?! Seriously, I think it's you who's following me!"

"Hah, what do I get from following an extremely short person like you?" He said, borrowing her words from yesterday.

(Y/N)'s eyebrows creased further in irritation. "Why do you keep mentioning my height?!"

"It was you who started it. Anyways, can you shut up? Do you know that you're in a library?"

She didn't retort back and simply sat on the chair with her arms crossed. It was a fine day then —BOOM— this giant decided to appear out of nowhere. She was trying to forget this person who's associated with some of her embarrassing moments but those just got smashed back to her mind. (Y/N) sighed and pulled a book at the bottom of the stack to start reading, but noticed that the blondie is still standing near the edge of the table, hesitating to sit down while glancing somewhere and back to her.

"What?" (Y/N) frowned.

"Why am I unnecessarily stuck with you on this table?" He sighed, pulling out the chair.

"Because all of the tables here are taken? If you're worried about your glasses being knocked off, don't worry, I won't do anything reckless anymore."

"That's a nice reassurance," He settled down and brought out his studying materials.

Both of them shared the table in the crowded library. Ignoring the people, between them was a silent atmosphere. No one was talking as they both minded their own studies; he was reading quietly and turning pages of a huge book while (Y/N) wrote key points from the printed work and highlighting her notes. Sometimes, the other would leave to return books to their shelves and came back with new stacks. This went on for a few hours until her pen ran out of ink. She scribbled at the back of her notebook in hopes that the ink just got stuck, to no avail. She sighed, resting her head on the notebook. But she really needed to take down notes for her upcoming entrance exam.

"Hey." (Y/N) reluctantly said.

The blonde male looked at her, confirming if he's being called, "What?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt your business but... do you have a spare pen?"

He stared at her with a straight face and placed his chin on the top of his knuckles, implying his refusal to lend one.

(Y/N)'s mentally gritted her teeth. I'm just going to borrow a pen and he's making it hard for me?!

Swallowing her pride, she said, "Look, I need to finish my notes. I'll return it to you right away when I'm done. I promise. Please?"

He scoffed as brought out a pen, "An inkless pen is all it takes for you to become a less lively puppy? You better keep your promise."

A puppy?! "You didn't need to compare me to a puppy but, thanks."

She continued her work but her focus was a bit shaken. This happens whenever she's interrupted or took a break away from writing. Soon, her focus vanished and boredom took over. She tried to read a book to review ideas but her brain won't cooperate. She groaned, her head and arms fell to the table again. The blonde saw but chose to ignore her.

She closed her eyes for a second, however, her gaze fell to the blank paper in front of her face. Her hands are itching to do something other than reviewing and writing, so she put down the pen she borrowed and took a pencil out of her pocket. She placed a pile of books near her notebook so that the male won't notice what she's doing. There, she started to sketch the base of the figure.

She would observe the four-eyed guy who's busy reading some sort of article while taking notes. He has a calm expression on his face rather than an irritated scowl or a mocking grin he usually has. He wears a long blazer and probably a long-sleeved shirt inside. His blonde hair is short yet the edges are a bit curly and his upper eyelashes are prominently long. This was the first time she stared at the jerk's face who she kept bumping into random places that irked the hell out of her, but for some reason, she felt that she had seen this person before the accident in the park, albeit she doesn't know where. (Y/N) came to a conclusion; he was a little good-looking.

The girl looked back to her drawing and shook her head at her own ideas. I can't believe I actually thought that this guy is handsome. How can such a mean creature be blessed with such looks?! Ugh, don't mind, (Y/N). I'm only drawing him because he seems like a great canvas subject, it's not like I haven't done this to other people before...

She went on drawing and drew details to the sketch similar to the boy in front of her. To make the drawing more accurate, she stole small glances at him. She kept things low key because it'll be another embarrassing event if he found out what she's doing. She made the lines smoother in one swift move. The hair and clothes' folds are already well-drawn while she focuses on the detail of his eyes and glasses. She was about to shade when the male finally caught her.

"What is it?" He questioned, closing his book with a low voice and creased eyebrows.

(Y/N) froze on the spot. As much as she doesn't like it, she maintained eye contact with him, thinking of the best alibi that he couldn't argue with. Then, she remembered that she doesn't know his name.

"Uhm... nothing. I was just wondering if you have a name." While talking, her finger subtly moved to grab the nearest object it could get to cover her drawing.

"I have, but why would I mention it to you?" He cooly replied.

"It's alright. I'm not asking you to. Unless you want to be referred to as he/him or the tall, blonde glasses guy all the time?" (Y/N) countered.

He silently turned a page before answering, "Well, it's not like we'll meet every day."

"Oh," was her only reply. Looks like he will stay a nameless guy in her head for a long time. She was about to get back to her business when he spoke.

"Tsukishima Kei."

(Y/N) looked at him in surprise. "I'm not going to repeat it." He added.

She smiled, having clearly heard it right away. "Can you tell me how it is written?"

He looked at her to check for ill intentions but found nothing in her eyes. He hesitantly wrote the characters of his name on a piece of paper.

"I'm (L/N) (Y/N), nice to meet you again, Tsukishima-san." She'd like to initiate a handshake for peacemaking, but she knows how he'd only decline it. She wrote her name for him to see as well.

Tsukishima Kei. She repeated in her mind. What a nice name.

With a notebook covering the upper portion of the paper where she had drawn his portrait, she wrote his name at the bottom. She proceeded to the shading and background features. Backgrounds are one of the things she hates in art because it takes too long to draw one compared to the subject itself. Luckily it's only a sketch so she won't have to suffer. Although she doesn't know if Tsukishima had seen whatever she's doing so she's still cautious. She peered at him for the nth time so she could distract his peripheral vision. Maybe to test the social initiative skills she hasn't used for a long time too.

"Uhh, can I ask something?" She started.

"Hm?" He responded without taking his eyes off the page.

"What school are you from?"

"Amemaru Middle School."

(Y/N) hummed, thinking of another question, "Then, what school are you enrolling to? It must be an upper class one since you had to read those large books and all."

"Not really," Tsukishima closed the book, "I plan to go to Karasuno High School. They may not have a difficult entrance exam, but these readings are for decent grades and some stock knowledge."

"Decent grades, huh... you look like you could achieve more though. I'm pretty sure you'll ace it." She answered, "I was from Kitagawa Dai Ichi. I'm taking an exam in Shiratorizawa soon."

"You're going to that high-class academy? I see, I failed to notice that because you don't look like one. Have fun clashing with other elites there."

"Elites? What are you talking about, you still believe there's such a hierarchy?" (Y/N) chuckled.

"There is though. A gap between them and mere humans in terms of skills and power."

"In the end, they're still humans though. Be it numbers, hard work, or some unique strategy, those 'mere humans' you say will always struggle to step on equal levels with those on the highest rank."

Tsukishima only hummed and stared down at her, "Perhaps I was wrong on assuming you're an elite. You're clearly not."

"Are you underestimating me?" She challenged.

"No, I was just saying. Can I ask something though?"

"What?"

"Why are you suddenly talkative?"

She was caught off guard but tried not to stutter, "Me? Talkative? I'm always like this."

"Really?" He raised his brows, totally not buying it.

"Ugh, fine! I'm tired of studying!" She sighed, "I was scribbling some doodles on my notebook because I'm bored so I thought it wouldn't hurt to talk to Mr. Beanpole in front of me. Forgive me and my awkward social skills."

"Your social skills are not bad. I'm just thankful you aren't using the precious ink of my pen for drawing." He said, stacking the books he used.

She gasped, panicked inside, "You aren't looking at my drawing, are you?"

He got up to return the books,"Don't worry, it's none of my business."

She exhaled in relief, spared from another memory of embarrassment. Her eyes followed his walking figure and watched his movements. She looked at her drawing to compare and used her fingers to define lighting. When Tsukishima got back and placed new reviewers on the table, (Y/N) asked him once more.

"Do you ever get tired of studying?"

"Sometimes I take a break, but I can only do that if I have finished everything."

"What a diligent student you are."

"I hardly see any benefit in being dumb and slacking off all the time."

"Eh, I hardly see any benefit in studying Algebra and Calculus. I have a lot of questions. Do you use derivatives in counting money or salary? Do you use trigonometry in dividing pizzas or corn chips? Why do I need to find the limit of a function if numbers are infinite? Why do I need to get the formula of a certain point in each line or curve I draw on the graphing paper? What is the correct answer for?" (Y/N) complained.

Tsukishima looked at her blankly, doubting her chances of passing the Shiratorizawa's board exam. "I couldn't argue with that, I'd rather read a book composed of words than formulas, but you don't have a choice. Although, if you plan to be an engineer or something, that'll be a different perspective."

"No, thanks, I won't eat math books for breakfast. Other subjects are interesting enough to keep me awake in class, but numbers don't really entertain me."

"Then, what do you do?" He asked, writing on his notes.

"Not much. I just draw, paint, listen to music, and watch anime."

He let out an amused hum, "How about you? What do you do other than to study?" (Y/N) asked.

"I play volleyball, listen to music, and read narrative books."

"Volleyball? So that's what your height is for! I thought it's just for cleaning and reaching high places."

"That's rude."

"If I am, what do you call yourself? Besides, I don't want to make wrong assumptions."

"You just did."

"...right. I'm sorry."

The sense of familiarity took over (Y/N)'s brain, telling her that she definitely had met this Tsukishima guy before. Her face scrunched a little, trying to search her memories and connect the dots. Her eyes found his face again.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" His eyes narrowed, his annoyance towards the girl slowly rising.

"I HAD met you somewhere... before that accident, where did I see you?"

He was about to say something when (Y/N) stopped him, "Shh, I'm thinking."

He crossed his arms and frowned at her. Volleyball, Amemaru MS... She was about to say it but Tsukishima spoke first.

"Were you one of the audience who watched the middle school volleyball inter-high a year ago?"

"I was! Wait, you remember?"

"That was the only place where I could find someone from Kitagawa Dai Ichi." He confirmed.

"Correct. I was a part of the school paper where I was assigned in the sports category. I took a picture of you when my senior was interviewing you! You were the tallest middle blocker in the games! How could I forget that! So that's why whenever you irk me, it was familiar!"

"How am I annoying you? Aren't you the one who kept on talking right now?"

"I've figured out that there's no kind bone in you. And the way you keep on stuffing the spikes from the opposite team. It was never-ending that they didn't have a chance to score properly." She pouted.

"What do you expect from a middle blocker? It was my job to block spikes."

"You could've gone easy on them."

"The game would lose it's sense if that's the case."

"Fine. You're not wrong." Their conversation was cut short after she ceased talking. At least she found out where she first met Tsukishima. She finished the portrait sketch. Grinning, she believed that she captured his features accurately in her drawing. She'd like to hold it near him and compare to make sure though. Satisfied with her work, she went back on turning pages.

"So, you've finally decided to continue to study?" Tsukishima prodded.

She smiled, "I guess. Thank you for talking to me. That was a great stop."

Both of them worked quietly, but now, the irritation they felt towards each other lessened. After some time, a person in the speaker announced that the library will be closing before 6 pm. Tsukishima returned all the books he borrowed and packed his things.

"You're going home?"

"I don't want to come home late. You aren't finished with your notes yet?"

"Yeah, maybe I'll leave five minutes before six."

"Alright. I'll get going now." He swung his bag over his shoulder.

"Hey, wait! Your pen!" (Y/N) abruptly remembered seconds after.

"I don't need it anymore. It was useful, apart from its close on running out of ink."

"But it's yours and you told me to keep my promise!"

"Whatever. Keep it or throw it." He walked out and wore his headphones, having no intention to listen to anyone.

She sighed and checked the ink. More than half of it is gone, but she can use it again if she wishes. (Y/N) placed her fist to her cheek while writing.

Random Tsukishima Kei facts:

In the second prototype chapter (unserialized, one shot, the first idea of the author on how haikyuu will go) Tsukishima was a second-year, which was changed in the serialized version where he's a first-year. His initial height in the prototype chapter is 184cm, a little shorter than his official height (190.1cm). In an extra sketch, Furudate commented, "Tsukki and Tanaka being in the same year would spell chaos!

©4aloysius.porteu.2021. please do not repost, copy, or edit. plagiarism is punishable by law. 

[willow-salix]

(Fluffember prompt: Name)

Day 4 of isolation on Tracy Island 2.0

"I don't care, you're coming with me," I told the love of my life, who wasn't looking very happy about it. 

"Why me?" he whined, and if you've never heard John whine before, or don't actually believe he's capable of it, let me assure you that he is very capable and it's very pitiful. But I am immune (mostly) and continued to stand my ground. 

"Because I can't leave you alone with them, you can't stand up for yourself and they can't be trusted."

"That's not true! I can…" he saw the look on my face as I mouthed 'mattress' and trailed off, admitting defeat. "Fine, but just the one shop."

Now, I know they say never take your husband shopping, but I honestly, TRULY thought that mine would be an exception. He's the organised one, he's the sensible one, the one that correlates all the data and sorts out all their problems. 

How wrong I was. 

It was actually quite pleasant to be alone for a few hours, it hadn't been that long since I'd made my less than dramatic return to the island but since the world was nowhere near normal we hadn't had that much time to ourselves lately, so I was going to take full advantage. 

"What do we need to get?" he asked in that long suffering tone that all husbands adopt when faced with the prospect of a trip around a shop with their woman. 

"Not that much," I assured him. I was lying. 

"Show me," he ordered, knowing I was lying. Must work on my 'believe me' voice. 

I lifted up the list, which unfurled itself into something roughly the length of Alan and watched as his eyes tracked its descent. I also watched the life drained out of them as he faced his doom head on. 

"Really?" 

I nodded, folding the list back up again. "It won't be that bad," I promised him. "It's one massive shop, we should be able to find everything there."

"Why didn't you take Virgil instead? Why must you torture me?" 

"Because you're my man and it's your job, plus I want to spend some alone time with you."

"I can think of much better ways to spend alone time," he grumbled under his breath as he steered the plane towards the landing strip. I declined to comment. 

                 ***

"Now, whatever you do, don't wander off," I reminded him, looking up from the list where I had sensibly been highlighting different categories of products so we could hit the different areas in order. 

I almost laughed when I saw that my poor, put-upon man was slumped against the plane, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast like he was fully expecting the grim reaper to show up any second and whisk him away from my evil clutches. Keep on dreaming, boy. 

"I'm not Alan," he sniffed. "Or Scott, I don't wander off, you wander off."

"I do not!" 

"You're the one that didn't tell me you were going to look at the meerkats when we went to the zoo."

"Babe, it's meerkats, you should have known I'd wander off to look at them, that's just common sense. I didn't need to say it."

He looked at me like he thought I had no idea what common sense even was. He's probably right, since I agreed to both marriage and staying on the island again. 

"Come on," I held out my hand, wiggling it in invitation, "it won't be that bad."

He sighed and took my hand. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" 

"Probably. Now, masks on, sanitiser at the ready, grab that trolly for me and let's do this thing."

                        ***

You know how it is when you're mostly in a shopping daze and can't focus on anything but getting in and getting out as quickly as possible? Like you're so focused on the list and making sure you don't forget anything and trying to locate the actual items you need versus the ones you suddenly want and can't do without? That was me. 

So it took me a few minutes to realise that I'd lost John. I don't know how it happened, I don't know when and I couldn't say in good faith that he hadn't been kidnapped by aliens, it was that kind of day. 

He'd shuffled along behind me, pushing the cart into which I was throwing all manner of things that I could tell he thought were useless and unnecessary. How little he knew. 

"You can put some things in too," I reminded him as I tossed a loaf of fruit bread over my shoulder towards the cart. He didn't answer. The bread landed on the floor with a soft flump. 

"John?" I turned around but he was gone, the cart too. 

"What the heck?" Where was he? I fumbled in my bag for my phone. Where was it? Why was I losing everything important today? I had a sudden mental image of my phone sitting on the coffee pot where I'd propped it while making breakfast, I'd been watching YouTube videos and needed both hands…

"Damn it." I didn't have my comm with me either, I only ever took that out with me when I wasn't home. Which would be now… "DAMN IT!" 

In my defence, I hadn't thought that I would actually lose him. I thought he was more sensible than that. 

I retraced my steps, going back down four aisles to the place I knew for certain I'd last seen him behind me, pushing the trolly like it was a protective force field against shop workers and old people that didn't know the meaning of social distancing and kept getting up in his face asking him to reach the high shelves for them. 

"John?" I called, sticking my head around the corner. Nothing. 

"Bugger."

Where the heck could he be? 

"Jooooohhhnnnnn!" I yelled a bit louder, starting a full sweep search, marching down the center gap between the aisles and glancing down each one. Nothing. 

"Excuse me, young lady."

I skidded to a halt, almost flattening an older man. 

"Hi, yes?" 

"Have you lost someone?" 

"Yep. Lost, one gorgeous ginger dumbass, if found please return to the witch in aisle 26." The man looked at me like I was crazy, but I'm used to it. 

"Oh, I thought you might be Mrs Tracy."

"No, Grandma's at home."

He gave me a funny look and I stared right back, I didn't want to be impolite and just walk away but yeah, kinda on a mission here, Grandpa.

It was then that I heard it, a voice coming over the tannoy. 

"Can Mrs Tracy please come to lost property at Customer Services."

It's a little surreal to hear someone calling you when you don't expect it and it took a few moments for it to register and my brain to process the information. 

The old man looked at me again, head tipped to one side. 

My brain clicked over. 

"Shhh…ugar! That's me! Lost husband! Thank you," I screamed over my shoulder as I hot footed it to the customer service desk. 

"Hi," I gasped, slightly out of breath (it's a very large store) "you…called," I gestured up to the ceiling and circled my finger like that would make sense to anyone but me. "Tracy…" I slumped, panting. 

"Oh," the lady at the desk finally lost the blank look on her face, figuring out what I meant. "He's in the lost child room."

I frowned, the what now? 

I dutifully followed behind the counter and through the door marked 'employees only'. 

"A customer found him standing alone in the bread aisle looking confused and lost so they alerted us."

She pushed open the door to a cheery yellow room with dancing clowns on the walls that looked like they wanted to eat my soul. 

"I'm sorry, I think there's been a mistake, I haven't lost a ch-" I stopped dead, blinking to make sure I was indeed seeing this correctly. 

"Where have you been?" John demanded. 

He was sitting forlornly on a chair that was so small it looked like it should have belonged in a doll house. His knees were higher than his chest. Some helpful soul had given him a colouring book but he'd ignored it although he was wearing a sticker that told me that he had been a super brave boy. 

"You left me!" 

"I did not!" 

"I turned around and you were gone! I tried to call and Scott answered!" 

"My phone's at home."

"I know that now! Because you abandoned me!" 

"I…I…" I splutted, not knowing what to say to that. 

"May I suggest a leash next time," the woman from the counter said as I dragged him to his feet. I couldn't tell with her mask on, but I'm pretty sure she was smirking. 

"Babe, you're fine, it's just a mega shop." 

"It's hell."

"You're being dramatic." 

"I'm never coming shopping with you again," he grumbled as I thanked the lady and towed him back into the shop. 

I have no idea where he lost the trolly, neither does he. I bought him a sausage roll in the cafe to appease him, leaving him there with his phone while I shopped on my own. Some things are just not worth the hassle. But I do know that next time someone calls my name in a shop, I'll pay attention.