#I wasn’t sure if I’d seen this one translated yet but either way I always like an editing project for myself

[till-death-us-do-part]

Lord of the Lost’s first feature in Sonic Seducer’s October 2009 issue featuring an interview with Chris by Jasmin Froghy.

Photo by Gili Shani

Thanks to my dear friend Krissi for the translation help.

English edit by Me :]

🔗 [x]

[shotorozu]

you like their hands

character(s) : todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku (1/?)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific

post type : headcanons; accompanied with a small scenario [fluff, the mildest of spice not nsfw]

note(s) : i was thinking about todo’s hands today— also i’ll be adding pictures of what i think their hand looks like so.. 😳

»»————-　♡　————-««

todoroki shouto

i’d like to believe that shouto’s hands would be long and pretty— kinda like how i’d imagine akaashi and kageyama’s hands

but have y’all seen that man’s hands in the anime and manga 😳 they’re not really what i’d call them “long”

so i had to find a mid point, kinda like a fusion of both.

his hands are either really pale, or the knuckles are just really red

moving on..

you have a weird infactuation with his hands, and you were gonna tell him! but you just didn’t know when

he didn’t really get it at first??

yes, he will respect and properly entertain your interests. but.. his hands? he doesn’t get that part yet

shouto can say he takes care of them well. washing his hands at least 3 times a day, and applying lotion on them with the slightest mint scent in it

and he takes care of his hands because he needs to rely on them everytime he uses his quirk.

speaking of quirk— his hands are either scorching to the touch, or cold.

so the first time he reaches out for your hand, you just.. freeze?? you were talking about something random while walking with him

then he just suddenly reached for your hand

seeing your reaction, he’s like.. “oh. my hand must be too cold for them. gotta switch.”

then he switches hands, holding your hand with his left. and you’re still the same, and it appears to be that switching didn’t really help

scenario

“what’s wrong, love?” he pulls you aside, staring at your expression— seeing that you became stiff when he reached for your touch.

you want to downplay the entire situation, really. but shouto doesn’t budge, that’s just who he is, and he’s still left wondering what’s wrong, and if he did something.

that is until you mention his hands, and that you like them

“your hands.. are really nice i guess,” you avert your gaze “i like them.” you say in almost a whisper like tone.

he sighs in relief. and he feels better that it’s not about the fact that you hate the temperature of his hands, since they’re either abnormally sahara desert hot or cold like fresh snow on a december morning.

his cheeks flare pink for a moment, in sudden realization “y-you like my hands?” shouto asks this as a confirmation, hoping that he actually heard it correctly.

but when you nod, he takes full advantage— entertaining your interest in his hands to his best abilities

he smiles when he sees your expression change when he brushes the back of your hand with his own. then, he finally holds your hand— the coolness of his right hand is making you hyper aware

your heart only pounds faster against your chest, when he presses his lips to the back of your hand, maintaining eyecontact as he does soz

after dating you, he paints his nails with clear nail polish. it makes him feel better knowing that they’ll stay clean even with all the hectic training

to calm you down, he likes to rub his thumb against your cheek— his quirk slightly activating while he stares into your eyes

a little spicy; but whenever you eat your desert during a date, he will wipe the excess off the side of your lips, and ask you to lick it off.

is he teasing you? or is he serious? we will never know.

bakugou katsuki

SCREAMs

bakugou’s hands are big, and his veins are prominent— but not too veiny to the point it’s concerning.

he sometimes likes wearing rings but.. that’s just sometimes

his hands are strangely soft, especially the palms— but he could say there’s some rough spots here and there, but he’d guess it’s because of his quirk.

bakugou’s hands are always warm and sweaty, which he never actually cared about— until he started dating you

he’s kinda worried that you wouldn’t wanna hold his hand, but you can say it’s actually the opposite?

you really like his hands.. but you’re just scared of getting judged

so when he reaches for your hand, you try to pretend that he wasn’t? you turn your head away— trying to not look the slightest bit of dazed

scenario

“what’s up with you?” bakugou interrogates you, his ruby irises glaring into your eyes— his voice gruff

“what?” you question, the sudden action was out of the blue— and you hold in your breath when his hands cage you in, large hands pressed on the wall behind you

“HAH?” he yells, not amused by your sudden oblivion, “don’t act dumb,” he grits his teeth “spit it out, and tell me what’s wrong.”

“nothing’s wrong, suki— i don’t really follow?” you try to convince him that no, i’m totally not afixiated with something about you, even though you’re my boyfriend; i don’t wanna admit that. however— you’re not very slick.

“tch, fucking liar.” his eyes narrow, “if you hate my fuckin’ hands, then i prefer it if you were honest about it.”

“sorry, but what?” you blink, suddenly appalled by his words, “hate.. your hands?”

“because that’s what it is, huh?” he moves even closer to you, practically inches away; and you can only pray that he can’t hear the rather loud beating of your heart. “my hands are so sweaty that you don’t wanna touch em, is that it?”

you’re agitated by his misunderstanding, and you sigh; finally deciding to come clean. “fine! fine. i like your hands.”

you didn’t mean to make it sound that upfront.

bakugou blinks, the sudden tension releasing into thin air, his expression left almost as equally surprised as you.

“tch. so that’s how it is,” he smirks, and by the way it looks— you suddenly regret telling him that.

well.. not really?

he actually takes advantage of that, making sure you remember his hands nicely.

when he sits next to you on the couch, he’ll throw his beefy ass arm around your shoulders like usual. then, he’ll run his hand up and down, making sure you’re aware of his touch.

bakugou will be THAT BITCH that’ll gesture you to come over so he could kiss you,

and when you’re leaning in— he’ll pinch your cheek, a sly grin on his face.

a little spicy; but he’s the type to rest his hand on your neck when you guys kiss <3 ugh

but overall— he’s really glad you actually like his hands, and it wasn’t like you hated them at all

but GOSH he just wished you told him from the start >:T

midoriya izuku

less veins, but.. DAMN THEY’RE KINDA THICK?? not too thick but.. have you seen his hands in the manga??

of course— his hands are rough, with a bunch of scars from his quirk. which he was kinda conscious about

but he tries hard to take care of them outside of combat things in fights; if they’re damaged then.. oh well

he definitely fiddles with pencils, and when he’s studying— the chance of him having a silver’s hand is likely (the thing where the graphite smeers on the back of your hand) he hates that shit

he definitely has a writer’s callus. PROVE ME WRONG!! that man writes a lot, and so do i so 😌 twinsies

but he tries to keep them clean, and he wants to make them feel less rough— so he will invest in some hand cream

compared to the other two, midoriya’s hands are normal in temperature.

but his grip is firm but he doesn’t really realize it sometimes.

you like his hands because.. the detail on his hands leave you mesmerized

but you don’t really wanna weird him out or make him uncomfortable. since he gets really flustered quick.

and you don’t want him to just stare at his hands and think about your fascination about them. no distractions

but he gets real pouty when you pull away

scenario

“hey Y/N, do you.. hate holding hands with me?” izuku asks one day, when you guys are studying in your room

“what?” you tilt your head, really surprised by his question— since you guys sat in silence for the last few minutes. you can feel the edge in your stomach grow when he mentions his hands.

“you always pull away when i try to hold your hand.” you gesture him to continue what he’s saying, and he continues “ but i get it though! my hands are.. scarred, rough. they’re kinda ugly compared to the rest of the guys.” he’s rambling, and you can’t help but feel really saddened.

“izuku, no.” you shake your head, “your hands aren’t ugly. yeah, they may be scarred and all— but they saved a lot of people, it saved eri, and it helped you get to where you are today.”

izuku’s cheeks flush with red, and he can’t say that you’re wrong. but; though he’s provided with reassurance, that’s not the answer he wanted

“but why won’t you hold my hand?”

“because i..” averting your eyes to the wall behind him, you’re looking for the right words. “i like your hands. i didn’t want to make you feel weird because of me.”

you look at his face after the confession, and it’s just ingulfed in a red shade.

on the contrary, this makes him like his hands more. everytime he looks at his hands, he’ll be motivated by your words.

but he’ll be a little shy with acting on it at first; especially in public

but fear not! izuku may seem innocent, but he also knows what he’s doing so.. don’t be decieved

when he’s studying, he’ll write with his right hand, and feed you little snacks with his left hand— urging you to open your mouth and take the snack

after sparring with you he’ll comment on how you did so good, also while placing his hands on your shoulder— massaging any sore parts

a little spicy, but when you guys are kissing, HIS HANDS WILL ROAM TO PLACES. pulling you closer as he attacks your lips

overall— he might be a little shy at first, but he can say he’s pretty accepting of your interest in his hands. it makes him feel better about the appearance of his hands.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing, and i don’t profit off of my hobby.

do not reupload, translate, and use my work for any reading videos without my consent. do not plagiarize my work :))

[ammy246]

Ed “Sketch” Analysis Part 1: Katsuki Bakugo

English Translation: https://youtu.be/vcjRuKHrrBI

Warning: Contains future season 6 episode & manga spoilers

Note: 00:00-1:31= Kacchan, 1:39-2:49=Deku, and 2:50-3:50=Both

“I feel like it’s been so long since I have seen your smiling face. Light up the heart, in slow motion, as much as possible...”

They are in a war and people die, so Izuku hasn’t been been okay in awhile, and Katsuki has noticed, but hasn’t confronted him, because he doesn't know how.

“If this short night is our last, then I’m sure I’d go see you. That’s how even I feel, in a carefree way.”

Katsuki tried his best to be there for Izuku throughout the fight against Shigaraki and wanted to be there by his side regardless of the danger.

“Crying as we hold each other, we can’t even talk about the pain. I love you so much even with your weakness.”

Katsuki is always near Izuku but is bad with words, so he doesn't know how to give him the comfort he desperately needs in these dark times. Katsuki has grown to love Izuku despite all the flaws he always criticized him for, and has begun to see his weaknesses as something that helped make Izuku become strong.

“You should do a sketch and give it to me. Along with my feelings, please don’t laugh...“

I believe ‘sketch’ is a metaphor for a confession. I’ll go into more detail on this later, but basically Katsuki wants Izuku to confess his feelings/extend his hand and this time, he wouldn’t reject them.

“Please don’t go, I don’t want you to go either. We made carefree promises as we punched each other on the shoulder. Although one of us always failed to keep up our end, and it wasn’t me this time either.”

This is foreshadowing for Izuku leaving due to his existential crisis after Katsuki gets severely wounded protecting him. Katsuki didn’t want Izuku to go, but Izuku left him anyway, much to his dismay. He also acknowledges his past mistakes since he had left Izuku previously, but he also slanders Izuku rightfully so here saying that wasn’t the right thing for him to do and he understands that now.

“Your shaking hands were a signal yet I missed it so many times. Hey, a promise is just something to ‘keep. All I really want is to hold hands.’”

Katsuki never really understood Izuku until much later on, so he missed so much of his pain, and even made it worse on many occasions. He is now putting extra effort into doing his part, and starts by saving Izuku’s life and apologizing for his past mistakes as a hope to resolve the problems he caused between them so there aren’t anymore misunderstandings. He now wishes he could’ve held the hand of the four year-old Izuku who reached out to him, and it his biggest regret, because it caused so many years of conflict, and the current issues as well. Now, he is still waiting for his chance, and he just might get it once he comes back to life, since he’ll literally be getting a second chance at life.

[cuttoothed]

Getting this in just under the wire for day 1 of @jonmartinweek prompt “Comfy Jumpers”. I get so much joy from writing these two in s1 and thinking “lol you idiots are going to be in love some day.”

*

Martin knows that Jon doesn’t approve of the way he dresses.

It’s not exactly a surprise. Jon doesn’t approve of much about Martin: his report-writing, his Latin translations, even his very existence seems to irk Jon at times. Frankly, the feeling is mutual. Martin was perfectly happy working in the library, where his boss wasn’t an overbearing perfectionist arsehole, and if he’d been given a choice in the matter he’d still be shelving books and updating the filing systems, not getting glared at for his clothing choices. He’s well aware that Jon never wanted him in the Archives either, but they’re here now, so Mister Head Archivist is just going to have to live with it. They’re both going to have to.

Jon isn’t subtle about his displeasure; it’s difficult to miss his pointed scowls at Martin’s scuffed trainers and graphic-print t-shirts. And considering that Sasha wears jeans and t-shirts some days as well—though admittedly she tends to plain colors or muted prints, rather than retro video game characters—it’s pretty clear that it’s less about the clothes than it is the person wearing them.

Well, Jon can scowl all he wants, because everything Martin wears technically falls within the Institute’s dress code and there’s not a word Jon can say to him.

Martin has always run hot, so as winter closes in and other people are bundling up in heavy coats and jumpers, he throws hoodies over his t-shirts and zips them up only far enough that the bright graphic prints are still clearly visible to Jon’s critical eye.

Yeah, he thinks sometimes when he walks into Jon’s office, get an eyeful of Yoshi and see how you like it.

Jon, for his part, seems determined to outlast the winter in his usual dress shirt and tweed jacket combo. Martin knows that Jon isn’t particularly warm blooded—he’s seen the way the man huddles into his jacket like a tortoise in its shell until the central heating warms the basement up in the mornings—but he still refuses to add so much as an argyle sweater vest to his outfit in deference to the season.

The only concession Jon makes to the weather is a voluminous gray overcoat and a dark purple scarf, which he takes off the moment he gets into the office, regardless of how cold it is before the ancient heating system creaks to life.

And, well, it’s none of Martin’s business if his boss is too much of a pompous arse to dress appropriately for the weather. If he wants to freeze his backside off to maintain his academic dignity, far be it from Martin to intervene. Martin doesn’t feel sorry for him, when he sees Jon blowing on his fingers to warm them up, or briskly rubbing his arms while he waits for the kettle to boil and he thinks nobody else is around. Not in the slightest.

It’s below zero on the day in December when the central heating finally gives up the ghost. Even Martin can feel the chill in the Archives this morning, keeps his hoodie zipped up all the way even when he runs into Jon in the kitchenette. Jon looks miserably cold, his shoulders hunched and his movements stiff as he makes his tea.

“Morning, Jon,” Martin says cheerfully. “Bit nippy, isn’t it?”

“Just a bit,” says Jon sardonically. Somewhere overhead, there’s a metallic clanking as the heating system starts up.

“Finally,” Jon mutters, casting his eyes upward. The pipes creak and clank some more, and there’s an odd whirring sound that Martin’s fairly sure isn’t normal, and then a long, descending groan into silence.

“Oh,” says Martin. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Bloody hell,” says Jon, and storms off to his office. A while later, he sends an email to inform them all that he’s spoken to Elias and the heating is out for the whole building, and that they should all feel free to work from home for the rest of the day if they choose. Sasha and Tim waste no time packing up, but Martin lingers, agonizing over which notes and references he should take with him. He’s never before had a job where working from home was an option, and he isn’t Tim or Sasha, isn’t someone Jon trusts and actually wanted to work with. Martin needs to make sure he gets it right.

At last he thinks he has everything he needs, but still Martin is hesitating, fiddling with the strap of his satchel. Maybe he should just check in with Jon before he leaves, make sure there isn’t anything else he needs to do. Make sure Jon knows I’m going to be working today, not just skiving off.

The door to Jon’s office is standing ajar; Martin taps on it, and pokes his head in without waiting for a response.

Jon looks up as he walks in, his expression startled. He is wearing a jumper. A chunky knit jumper in a warm maroon color, with a Christmas tree and several reindeer on the front. One of the reindeer has a red bobble for a nose. The jumper is oversized, the ends of the sleeves falling past Jon’s wrists.

It’s...incredibly cute, which is not a term that Martin ever expected to associate with his arsehole boss. Attractive, in a severe, unattainable way, sure, but not cute. Yet somehow, here they are.

“Ah, Martin,” Jon says, looking flustered. “I, uh, I thought you’d left with the others?”

“I was—I just wanted to check in with you first, make sure you didn’t need anything. You should head home too, it’s freezing in here.”

“I—I’m perfectly fine.” Jon plucks at the front of the jumper, looking embarrassed. “This is, ah, I bought this for the Institute Christmas party, but it’s surprisingly warm—and quite comfortable.”

“Oh, that’s, uh, that’s not part of your usual wardrobe then?” Martin hazards a chuckle, and to his relief, Jon huffs an amused breath. He raises a hand to adjust his glasses, but his sleeve gets in the way; he pushes both sleeves up to the elbows, and oh no, that’s even cuter.

“No, not—not usually,” he says. Martin frowns, suddenly remembering.

“You didn’t wear it at the party last week, though?”

“No, it’s—it was from the previous year, when I was in Research. It-it didn’t seem appropriate this year, being in a management role. Fortunately I still had it in a box, though I, uh, I didn’t really expect anyone to see me in it.”

Martin feels a sudden pang of something that might be sympathy. He understands how it feels, the desperate pressure to be professional, to be taken seriously, the constant second guessing of what you’re doing, whether you’re giving away something you shouldn’t. It’s hardly the same, of course: Jon’s not likely to be fired for wearing a silly jumper. But...Martin gets it.

“Actually,” he lies, “I, uh, I have to meet with Sophie up in the library later, so I’m around for the day. I was just going to go out and pick up some early lunch. Thought I’d see if you want anything?”

“Oh, ah, where are you going?” Jon asks tentatively, looking surprised at the offer.

“I was thinking of that cafe just around the corner—maybe get some soup and a sandwich?”

“That would be...very nice, actually. If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did,” says Martin, and takes the ten pound note Jon offers him.

“Thank you, Martin,” says Jon, and it’s the probably the most sincere thing Martin’s ever heard him say. He finds himself smiling without meaning to.

“Not a problem.”

It’s too early for lunch, really, but Martin knows Jon never eats breakfast and he missed it himself this morning. He gets two portions of steaming tomato and basil soup and toasted cheese sandwiches from the cafe, and when he gets back, Jon’s found a small space heater to plug in, so his office is marginally warmer than the rest of the Archives. They sit on opposite sides of Jon’s desk to eat, talking about the case that Martin’s working on. It’s the first time Martin’s actually had the chance to properly discuss a case, rather than stumbling through his report while Jon watches expectantly; Jon listens, and asks questions, and even offers some helpful suggestions for Martin’s follow up. It’s...oddly nice.

(Jon also continues to look unreasonably cute in his oversized Christmas jumper, but Martin carefully ignores that.)

The heating gets fixed by early afternoon, and the Archives warm up to the point where Martin can unzip his hoodie. When he drops off his finished case report to Jon’s office, Jon is back in his shirt and jacket, the maroon jumper packed away out of sight. He looks perfectly staid and professional once again. I saw you looking cute, though, Martin thinks, and then tries to pretend he didn’t; he is not going down that route.

Jon glances up when Martin comes in, taking in the “Marvin the Martian” t-shirt that’s now visible beneath his hoodie. Instead of a disapproving scowl, however, he gives a small, hesitant smile.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says as he takes the report, and something flutters warm in Martin’s chest.

Oh no, he thinks.

[cqlfeels]

@lansplaining encouraged me to finish this random meta nobody asked for, so let's talk about Meng Yao, Meng Shi, and 孟母三遷 (mèng mǔ sān qiān), a proverb about good parenting.

A warning: this is super long (even for me!) and is less quality meta and more my ADHD brain jumping around a maze of loosely related ideas. Proceed with caution!

Let me start by briefly going through why I decided to write this, because it’s important. In haunting Meng Shi’s tag in my starvation for Meng Shi content, I’ve multiple times come across the idea that Meng Shi pushed Meng Yao too hard, that she should’ve been more careful with teaching him to seek his father’s approval at any cost, and that she was too naïve. I’ve never reblogged this kind of post because 1) I personally think it’s rude to go out of your way to ramble about how much you disagree with someone on their own post and 2) if this was an isolated incident I wouldn't care either way, so I didn’t want to direct this rant at anyone in particular. It’s more to do with a tendency, primarily (as far as I can tell) from fans who haven’t had much contact with Chinese culture, to oversimplify Meng Shi and make her relationship with Meng Yao slightly disturbing, and I think part of it is due to CQL basically cutting out her entire storyline (so fans simply don’t have info about her to assess her fairly) and part is due to misunderstanding what a good parent is supposed to act like in the context of Ancient China.

[Of course, Ancient China is not a very useful historical concept, not any more than “ye olde Europe” - things change a lot based on time and place - but you know. It’s fantasy. Extremely broad trends are okay in this case.]

Anyway, the idea behind the posts I mentioned is, basically, that Meng Shi (usually through no fault of her own) is to blame for Meng Yao’s obsession with power, since his desire for approval was inherited from lessons she taught him. Just to start with, I’d argue that Meng Yao isn’t power-hungry as much as he craves security and respect, but that’s a different meta. Let’s assume that she really did teach him to be Like That. Was she wrong to do so? I’m not looking for “does that make for a happy, well-adjusted childhood?” or “would you raise your own son as Meng Shi did?” - I’m trying to figure out, would she have been considered a bad mother in the context of the society she lived in? I don’t think she would’ve.

It is surprisingly hard to find texts about the obligations of parents in Ancient China. Their main obligation is to raise filial children, but I feel like that’s not very useful: whether or not parents are good parents, children are expected to be filial, so a child being filial really says more about the child than about the parent. Maybe the parent completely missed the mark and society at large was what taught the child to be filial!

We can assume, of course, that parents were to raise good people, and that by learning what a good person looked like, we could figure out whether the parent was successful, but once again, I feel like that’s pinning things on the outcome, not on the process - the best of parents can end up with an awful kid and vice versa.

While thinking about all this, it took me a frankly embarrassing amount of time to remember the story of Mother Meng and Meng Zi, but once I did, it wouldn’t leave my mind - in part because the Meng here is the exact same Meng of Meng Shi and Meng Yao (yay! fun if useless parallel!), and in part because this is a story about how a woman can successfully raise a son by herself.

Okay, so important note: one of the most influential ancient Chinese thinkers is Meng Zi (孟子 Mèng Zǐ), who is known in the West as Mencius. If you've never heard of him - he's perhaps second in importance only to Confucius. When Mencius was still a young child, his father died, so he was raised by his mother, who is usually known only as Mother Meng (in Chinese, 孟母 Mèng Mǔ.)

Mother Meng's story is told in Biographies of Exemplary Women (列女傳 Liènǚ Zhuàn), which for around 2000 years beginning around the 18th century BCE, was the most commonly used book used to educate women. The book is divided into sections, each one showing a different way women could be honorable and good. Mother Meng's story is told in the Maternal Models section (母儀傳 Mǔ Yí Zhuàn.) The story has a few parts, some of which I'll quote, always from Kinney's 2014 translation.

Before I go on to quote it, though, I'd like to establish that Mother Meng's story is so, so famous that even if Meng Shi had never read this particular book, I'm almost certain she would've been familiar with at least the outlines of Mother Meng's story. I'm not cherry picking a suitable chapter from the book, I'm literally going with the most famous story in it because Meng Shi would be most likely to know this one if she knew no other story.

Okay, the first part of the tale takes place when Mencius is a young boy and Mother Meng is a widow raising him.

The mother of Meng Ke of Zou [a different name for Mencius] was called Mother Meng. She lived near a graveyard. During Mencius’ youth, he enjoyed playing among the tombs, romping about pretending to prepare the ground for burials. Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son.” She therefore moved away and settled beside the marketplace. But there he liked to play at displaying and selling wares like a merchant. Again Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son,” and once more left and settled beside a school. There, however, he played at setting out sacrificial vessels, bowing, yielding, entering, and withdrawing. His mother said, “This, indeed, is where I can raise my son!” and settled there. When Mencius grew up, he studied the Six Arts, and finally became known as a great classicist. A man of discernment would say, “Mother Meng was good at gradual transformation.”

According to the translator's footnote, "gradual transformation" is "a childrearing technique, whereby a child is morally formed through daily exposure to correct models of behavior."

From this story comes the proverb 孟母三遷 (Mèng Mǔ sān qiān) - "Mother Meng moved three times." It's come to mean that a parent - especially the mother of a male child - should spare no efforts to provide an environment that will give their child a good education, paying particular attention to what models are surrounding them.

I'm sure I don't need to say if Meng Shi was at all familiar with this proverb (and she would probably be), she must have been very stressed out over literally raising her son in a brothel. (Here I must mention sex workers in ancient China were often essentially owned by the brothels, so literally "moving three times" wasn't really an option for Meng Shi even if she could miraculously pick up another trade.) Meng Shi did however at least try to surround Meng Yao with the accomplishments appropriate for the son of a cultivator:

Xiao-Meng, are you still learning those things lately? [...] The things your mom wants you to learn, things like calligraphy, etiquette, swordsmanship, meditation… How are those things going? [...] His mom’s raising him as a young master of a wealthy family. She taught him how to read and write, bought him all those swordsmanship pamphlets, and even wants to send him to school.

Meng Yao actually talks a little bit about “those swordsmanship pamphlets” in the only time in canon he directly shares memories about this mother:

Lan XiChen, “Your [guqin] skills are also considered quite fine outside of Gusu. Were they taught by your mother?”

Jin GuangYao, “No. I taught myself by watching others. She never taught me such things. She only taught me reading and writing, and bought a handful of expensive sword and cultivation guides for me to practice.”

Lan XiChen seemed surprised, “Sword and cultivation guides?”

Jin GuangYao, “Brother, you haven’t seen them before, have you? Those small booklets sold by the common folk. First jumbled sketches of human figures, then deliberately mystified captions.”

Lan XiChen shook his head, smiling. Jin GuangYao shook his head as well, “All of them are scams, especially to fool women like my mother and ignorant children. You won’t lose anything by practicing them, but you definitely won’t gain anything either.”

He sighed in a rueful way, “But how could my mother have known this? She bought them no matter how expensive they were, saying that if I returned to see my father in the future, I had to see him with as much competence as possible so that I don’t fall behind. All of the money was spent on this.”

See what’s happening? Meng Shi cannot physically take Meng Yao to cultivators, but she spares no efforts in giving him the closest thing she possibly can -- figuratively, we might say she moved three times.

Of course, these booklets don’t work, but as Meng Yao says, how could she have known this? The cultivation world is very closed off - think of how the entire Mo household gathers to see Lan juniors, and how Wei Wuxian mentions once that “Cultivation families, in the eyes of common folk, are like people favored by God, mysterious yet noble.” Not just noble, but mysterious. That tracks, too - I mean, they live in inaccessible households and mostly leave to night hunt or visit each other, neither of which is an activity that would allow commoners to get much more than an occasional glimpse of them.

Now, if Meng Shi doesn’t even know that a pearl for Jin Guangshan was just a trinket, if she doesn’t know even the wealth of a major sect, how can she read booklets and decide whether that’s genuine cultivation or not? All that she sees is a chance for Meng Yao to be surrounded by the ideas and skills of the people she wants him to emulate - cultivators - and therefore she does everything she can to get him that chance. Mother Meng moved three times.

Okay, but maybe the argument is not “Meng Shi shouldn’t have pushed Meng Yao to cultivation” but rather “she should’ve pushed him, just not too hard." To that, I present another tale from Mencius' childhood:

Once, when Mencius was young, he returned home after finishing his lessons and found his mother spinning. She asked him, “How far did you get in your studies today?” Mencius replied, “I’m in about the same place as I was before.” Mother Meng thereupon took up a knife and cut her weaving. Mencius was alarmed and asked her to explain. Mother Meng said, “Your abandoning your study is like my cutting this weaving. A man of discernment studies in order to establish a name and inquires to become broadly knowledgeable. By this means, when he is at rest, he can maintain tranquility and when he is active, he can keep trouble at a distance. If now you abandon your studies, you will not escape a life of menial servitude and will lack the means to keep yourself from misfortune. How is this different from weaving and spinning to eat? If one abandons these tasks midway, how can one clothe one’s husband and child and avoid being perpetually short of food? If a woman abandons that with which she nourishes others and a man is careless about cultivating his virtue, if they don’t become brigands or thieves, then they will end up as slaves or servants.” Mencius was afraid. Morning and evening he studied hard without ceasing. He served Zisi [a great scholar whose grandfather was Confucius] as his teacher and then became one of the most renowned classicists in the world.

Notice that Mother Meng moved three times to ensure Mencius would have the highest of aspirations - to become a scholar. But just aspiration isn’t enough. Not by any means. Now that Mencius is actually studying, Mother Meng is willing to take an extreme action to ensure he's taking it seriously. Mencius doesn't have a father to smooth his path to success. He has to learn that aspiring to greatness isn't enough. He'll have to put in the effort as if his life depended on it. And if he doesn't persist in his hard work, everything he's done thus far will be useless. Sounds like a lesson imparted on young Meng Yao, doesn’t it?

A lot of fandom rage towards Meng Shi would apply to China's Best Mom Contender, Mother Meng. She gives her son big dreams, and teaches him how to go about achieving them in a society where failing is easier than succeeding. Yes, it's fair to say that Meng Shi taught Meng Yao to refuse to settle for anything less than being “Jin Guangshan's son, a respected cultivator.” Yes, it's also fair to say that she probably didn't allow him much time to play like children his age did. But unfortunately, in the world of MDZS, poor children probably wouldn't get to play anyhow, the difference is that they'd usually be working, not studying. Studying is a privilege! It’s a privilege Meng Yao could not afford but was given to him anyway, through his mother’s many sacrifices. We can even say that while she was alive, Meng Shi was trying to ensure Meng Yao would one day have a better life, at the expense of a fun childhood - and that's very Mother Meng of her, whatever our modern Western sensibilities might have to say about that.

Finally, I’d skip other tales (which show Mother Meng and an adult Mencius) and go straight to the poem that ends the Mother Meng section:

The mother of Mencius

Was able to teach, transform, judge, and discriminate.

With skill she selected a place to raise her son,

Prompting him to accord with the great principles.

When her son’s studies did not advance,

She cut her weaving to illustrate her point.

Her son then perfected his virtue;

His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.

I’d like to focus on the last verse - “His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.” All that Mother Meng wanted was for Mencius to not completely ruin his life, but he became great. You can so very easily see a parallel with how Meng Shi hoped Meng Yao would be a cultivator but he became Jin Guangyao, Chief Cultivator, styled Lianfang-zun, one of the Three Venerable, hero of the Sunshot Campaign.

Of course you can say “Jin Guangyao did many Very Wrong Things to get there, though!” Which, sure, okay, fair point. How many and how wrong depends on which canon we're discussing, and your own interpretation, but there’s no version of the story in which Jin Guangyao is 100% an innocent child uwu. But blaming that on Meng Shi is just... straight up weird? I don’t see anyone going “If Jiang Fengmian hadn’t adopted Wei Wuxian, he’d never have dared become Yiling Laozu!” and that’s pretty much the same logic. Would street kid Wei Wuxian have invented a new type of cultivation if he had never been taken in by the Jiang? Probably not, but raising undead armies is very much not something Jiang Fengmian could’ve predicted. In the same way, how could Meng Shi have predicted that teaching her pre-adolescent son “You are the son of a cultivator, act like one and earn your place in society” would’ve ultimately resulted in innocent deaths? How could she predict “You’re not destined to having the same horrible life I did, you can get something better than this” was a bad thing to teach? I quite honestly don’t know.

Finally, I'd like to point towards a much flimsier evidence that Meng Shi did great as a parent. And that is Meng Yao’s love. Nie Huaisang at some point comments Meng Shi is someone who Meng Yao "cherishes more than his life," and I think his assessment is correct.

Even putting aside the fact he built a whole temple to get his mother to reincarnate into a better life, and even putting aside how he refuses to flee the country without her remains, there's still crystal clear evidence that Meng Shi must've done something right. Because a lifetime of people using his mother to bully him doesn't seem to have made Meng Yao resent her. Had their relationship not have been very strong, odds are he'd feel bitter and/or ashamed of her. That doesn't seem to be the case. He's attached to her even decades after her death.

I want to be very careful with equating mutual affection with good parenting, though. When I was a rather rebellious teenager, my mother (in typical Chinese fashion) used to say that parents and children don't have to love each other as long as they're dutiful to each other, by which she meant that a parent-child relationship isn't informed by warm and fuzzy feelings, but by whether you'd be willing to do anything for each other. Specific to my case, she meant "I don't care if it makes you hate me, you will do as you're told because that's what's best for you." (That may also be the reason why people more familiar with Chinese culture see the Jiang family less as outright abusive and more as #complicated, but that's another meta.)

Whether your kid wants to hug you every time they see you is of no consequence to traditional Chinese thought - raising them to be the best they can is all that matters, because at the end of the day, you won't be around forever, but you can definitely set up your kid's life so that it goes smoothly and virtuously. How that's accomplished varies depending on many factors, but to have the goal be "I want my child to love me" rather than "I want to raise my child right" would've been considered selfish as hell.

So even if all that Meng Shi had given Meng Yao had been stern lessons about the need to go get his birthright, she would've still have been considered a good mother!! In fact, she would've been doing everything she was supposed to do, under extremely difficult conditions! (Remember the importance of environment? That Meng Yao grew up to want to be a cultivator despite having probably never even met one speaks wonders about Meng Shi's childrearing powers!!)

But just based off how over the top Meng Yao's filal dutifulness is, I'd go a step further and say that even as she did the impossible, she was also loving enough to inspire genuine affection. This is complicated because children who have present fathers could expect their mothers to be tender with them. The first century BCE text 禮記 Lǐ Jì or The Classic of Rites says that:

Here now is the affection of a father for his sons - he loves the worthy among them, and places on a lower level those who do not show ability; but that of a mother for them is such, that while she loves the worthy, she pities those who do not show ability - the mother deals with them on the ground of affection and not of showing them honour; the father, on the ground of showing them honour and not of affection.

But when the father figure is lacking for any reason, the mother must abandon her tenderness because someone must guide the child, and without a father, the role falls to the mother. A single or widowed mother had to be very careful to not smother their children with affection and raise useless, spoiled kids, or so it was thought. (The presence of Qingheng-jun and Lan Qiren is why Madame Lan can be so affectionate with the Lan boys, by the way - if she was raising them by herself she would've been expected to be much more practical. AUs where she just gets her kids and runs away could do very cool things with this idea. But I digress!)

Where was I? Oh, okay. Because Meng Yao seems to not just respect, but actively miss her, it seems that Meng Shi somehow managed to deal with her son on the ground of both honor and affection, to paraphrase.

So basically, all things considered, it seems not only would Meng Shi have been considered a great mom (if people could look past her being a prostitute, anyway) but she also went above and beyond the bare minimum. She truly spared no efforts on any front to make sure her son had everything your average gongzi would have - someone to teach him and someone to love him, access to education and confidence in his birthright. That she couldn't actually make him a cultivator, that she couldn't actually raise him in a proper home with no one being cruel to herself or him - that's immaterial. Even Mother Meng couldn't control what her neighbors did, only what she taught her son! The key point is Meng Shi tried. She did everything she could to educate her son right. You couldn't ask more of her, and quite honestly, you should probably be asking less.

Of course we can't err on the other extreme and say she was Perfect. Given MXTX only ever writes flawed characters, we can safely assume that if we'd known more about Meng Shi, we would've seen many flaws. Indeed, just the fact she didn't teach Meng Yao the guqin when he apparently wanted to learn it might point to some conflict we don't know enough to speculate about (maybe she focused too much on cultivation when Meng Yao's interests lay elsewhere? Maybe she wasn't able to sufficiently shelter him and he felt it'd be a burden to ask her to teach him anything? Maybe maybe maybe, go wild with your fics.) Nevertheless, I would never hold a female character to a higher ideal than a male character - if the male cast of MDZS can be a hot mess and still be admirable for what they're trying to do, then so can Meng Shi.

At the end of the day, when I look at Meng Shi - and I've made myself a document with all the references to her in the novel canon so I could easily contemplate her life and character - all I see is a woman every bit as determined and resourceful as her son, willing to do everything it took to raise her little boy into the sophisticated and ambitious man he became.

Finally, here's a fun little parallel that I'm 100% sure was unintentional but I still love. I said Meng Shi couldn't have moved three times. She couldn't, but I think maybe she taught her son he was worth moving three times for. Qinghe Nie. Qishan Wen. Lanling Jin. Isn't that super fun to think about?

Alternatively, tl;dr: Oh My God I Can't Believe We're Blaming Women For The Actions Of Their Adult Children In The Year Of Our Lord 2k21, Meng Shi Was Doing Her Best, Chill!

[roscgcld]

HEADCANON + VARIOUS || when their siblings are evil

request: Hello, I was kinda wondering how would Gojo, Itadori and megumi react to a their younger sibling being evil but she has a reason to being that way. [Headcanon] -

note: hmm - this one is really interesting! honestly i had never thought about their reactions if their younger siblings are evil! this was an entirely new idea to me, so i definitely enjoyed writing something like this

characters: gojo satoru, itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi

pronouns: she/her

GOJO SATORU

in this sense, I feel it’s not that shocking that if his younger sister joined forces with geto

if you weren’t born with the Six Eyes like your older brother, your clan will just treat you like a slave - like maki was treated when she was in the zen’in clan 

after years of abuse and being told that you were a mistake, and that you shouldn’t have been born, and that you were a waste of space - that might crack you and made you go insane

gojo might have known this might happen, and had tried to move you away from the path of evil - because i feel like he would be a good older brother and shower you in all the love you deserve

he’d shower you in love and respect, getting you new clothes even if your parents tell him not to, spoil you rotten and even training you to use your powers under the cover of darkness

but sometimes it just isn’t enough though, and the emotional wounds are just too deep to heal - and he gets that

feel like he might end up blaming himself - what kind of older brother can’t protect his own baby sister? how can he call himself ‘the strongest’ when he can’t even protect the one person that he was born to protect?

screw the world - he’s your older brother. he should have seen the signs and stopped you from doing what you do

at the same time, he knows the reason why you left - you were sick and tired of the higher ups and their backwards thinking

the elders of your clan, the elders of other clans, the higher ups who control the jujutsu world - you hate them all, and you strive for the change that gojo wants to do as well. but with how you’ve been put down your entire life, and how underdeveloped your skills are, you went the only route you know - a route that strays you away from all you’ve ever known

if anything, he’s sort of proud - since along the way, geto definitely takes you under his wing and teaches you to unlock all the potential of your power - which will be a huge slap to the face for the rest of the clan and the higher ups

feel like he doesn’t have it in him to really take you down if he needs to, since he can see through you no matter what - how you’re scared to be on the run, how you hate being away from your older brother, how you know that you have innocent blood on your hands

yet you can’t leave, you’re in too deep now. and if you return, who exactly is there to stop the higher ups from killing you like they so desperate want to for so long?  

he’d probably spare you out of all the sorcerers that the higher-ups have branded as traitors, because at the end of the day you’re still his baby sister

and no matter how twisted your views of getting to your goal has become, you two still strive for the same thing - and that is to rid the jujutsu world of people like them

plus, if he was being honest, he’d want to keep you around as a slap to the higher ups still lol; the biggest middle finger he can give to them is by keeping you alive for as long as possible

ITADORI YUJI

yuji, being the sunshine he is, would not have known why you decided to leave for the other side of the war

it wasn’t his fault - if anything, he was the best older brother to be around. he’s what people dreamed of when they think of having an older brother

he took care of you, make sure you and your grandfather was fed, made sure you didn’t need to worry about trivial things like money or when the pay the bills - you just focus on being happy and that’s all that he needs in return

feel like the reason why you left was more because of manipulation - if you can just grow stronger, you can protect yuji from getting executed. that you can make a better world for the both of you, that you two can one day live in a happy world where curses and sorcerers were far behind you

of course yuji will be upset - he doesn’t see the appeal of the other side, and always advocates for you to realise how geto and the other curses are using you for their own benefit 

why would you give up your freedom to fight on the other side?

he’d be conflicted - this was the little girl who he used to braid her hair and cook for every day, the girl who he brought up from young to become the headstrong woman you are today. his best friend and the only person he can truly rely on during the darkest of times

how can he put that aside and hunt you down like you’re a prized animal in a hunting competition?

he’d wonder if he was a good brother to you too as well - wondering if he wasn’t giving you enough attention growing up, not as good as he thought he was at splitting his time for you

it’d take a lot of convincing from his friends that it wasn’t his fault, that you were being manipulated into thinking that this was the only way you can turn to in order to help him

since neither of you were really sorcerers to begin with - being thrown into a world where power dictates how you are treated would push anyone into a corner 

he’d use that to probably train harder - to show you that you didn’t need to do the things you are doing to make sure he’s safe, that he can protect both you and him with ease

that you two can go back to how things were before all this

if you two ever meet in battle, i don’t think he’d be able to handle it - he’d be hesitate when it comes to hitting you with full power, since he didn’t want to kill you by accident

the last he needs is to have your death on his conscience

throughout the entire battle he might still try to convince you that it isn’t too late, that you can return back to jujutsu tech and learn from the best of the best, with a warm roof over your heads and friends you can really rely on 

he’d stand in the way between you and any curse that tries to take you out, making sure that if either of you are to continue living, it’d be you

he’d lay his life down for you, even though he knows you’ve taken many innocent ones while getting to where you are today 

he still has all the love of an older brother, and nothing people say or do will waiver the vow he took when he first held you in his arms - that he was going to protect you no matter what

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

with megumi, i can see why as well - you were abandoned at a young age, growing up watching your father working with all kinds of shady people

so it was natural for you to fall down the same path; since no one was really there to teach you right from wrong 

i feel like megumi might have tried, and he really did try to show you that going down the path your father did was not the best idea - but how much can he do as a young child?

he probably feels more guilty as time goes by - child or not, he was your older brother, he should have tried harder to show you where you could have put that skill

wouldn’t breath a word about your existence to anyone, not because he doesn’t want to be associated with you. it’s more so your name will not be as well known as geto suguru - that maybe, there was a chance that the higher-ups might overlook you and you can sneak back in without causing too much waves

but the entire time, he might harbour all the guilt from not trying hard enough as a child to convince you that going to jujutsu tech was the best way to get stronger and show the zen’in clan that your father wasn’t a ‘waste of an heir’

the first time his friends will even find out you were an actual person is when you would run into them whilst you’re on a job - kill a target your client gave to steal some documents that they view as valuable

you didn’t notice them until you felt someone staring at you, to which you turn to face the person - ready to threaten to scoop their eyeballs out

“oh, hi nii-chan.” you’d greet with a casual grin as he stared at you in shock, nobara and yuji looking between the both of you curiously. “didn’t think i’d see you ever again.”

yuji and nobara might talk to you like you’re a normal person, but they kept their guards up still - something you found amusing, but still answering their question truthfully 

megumi knew better - unfortunately you’re branded as an underground criminal, and if possible, any available sorcerer that bumps into you is to kill you before you accidentally reveal the existence of sorcerers and curses

however, no matter how hard he wills himself, he can’t do it - you’re still his flesh and blood. you may have chosen a path that’s different from his, but deep down you’re still living true to yourself

you’d glance over and see the conflict brewing in his eyes, to which you’d give him a soft smile before you lean over to grab his hand in his, causing him to snap his eyes up at you

“do what you think is right.”

with that you pulled away, and with another wave to the group, you melted into the crowd; somehow managing to disappear before their eyes

both his friends will be confused, looking around for you while he stared down at the hand you had grabbed, a slightly faraway look on his face

he’d probably realise that if anything, you’re living true to yourself and allowing yourself to fly so far ahead that you’ve slowly started to outshine any of them prior to this

and he’d feel weirdly proud, because you were still his baby sister, and you still achieved things that are worth being proud of 

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[sleep-i-ness]

Love Game (James Potter x reader)

Summary: Remus has spilled the beans about you having a crush, and James is determined to find out who it is.

“So, Remus says you’re in love with someone.” Sirius came up behind you as you sat in the shady corner of the common room, reading quietly. You were out of the way, but still able to keep an eye on everything going on.

“Does he now?” You turned the page, finger tracing the words as you continued to read.

Sirius flipped a chair round, sitting down in front of you and tipping the top of your book down towards him. You finally glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Who is it?”

You gave him a confused look. “Why would I tell you?”

“Because you told Remus?” Sirius stated, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

“I told Remus because he asked me out just so he’d have a date for Hogsmeade, and I felt bad for not being able to accept.” You returned your gaze to your book, trying to signal that this conversation was over.

“So, what you’re telling me is that I need to ask you out?” Sirius grinned at you and you shook your head, knowing exactly what that smile meant. You’d seen that exact smile 5 minutes before your best dress had been covered in mud, aged 5. And then again before you got caught playing the Muggle sport ‘football’ at age 12. And yet again before you went swimming in the canal and your brothers yelled at you for a solid two hours at age 16. Nothing ever good came of that smile. “Y/N Prewett, would you do me the pleasure of going on a date with me?”

“Well that’s not very romantic. No.” You shook your head, trying to concentrate on the words on the page in front of you. You had reread this line at least 5 times and it still wasn’t making sense.

Sirius sniffled, faking tears, and you glanced up at him, giving him an unimpressed frown. “Why not?”

“Because I’m in love with someone else,” you sighed, feeling a very uncomfortable sense of deja-vu.

“Who is it? Who could this man be, that has stolen your affections away from me?” Anyone who said Sirius Black was a serious bore should see him now; he was being a right dramatic pain in your arse.

“Not telling you,” you replied in a sing-song voice. He snatched your book away and you scowled. “Give it back.”

“Not until you tell me.”

“Don’t be an arse Sirius.”

He gave you a look.

“It is so bloody obvious!” You threw your hands up in the air. “If Remus, Marlene, and Lily were all able to guess, so should you.”

Sirius thought for a second, his eyes lighting up as he finished scanning around the room. “No fucking way. How did I never notice?”

“You’re oblivious.”

“It’s James, right?” He grinned, making eye contact with someone behind you and you hushed him furiously.

“What’s me?”

You froze, sending Sirius a sharp glare. Turning around slowly, you smiled up at him as you shook your head and rolled your eyes. “My least favourite Marauder, apparently. But don’t worry, Sirius has definitely filled that spot because he’s being a right pain in my arse.”

You snatched your book back from him and settled down into your chair, focused on returning to your reading. You just wanted to finish it, for God’s sake. You only had a few more pages left and so many other books to get started on.

James stared at the two of you a moment longer, suspicion brewing in his eyes, before he lowered himself into the chair next to you. You assumed he was going to drop the subject. “So, Remus told us about someone you’ve got your eye on.”

You slammed the book on the table. “Has Remus gone round telling everyone?”

“Probably, it’s Remus,” Sirius sniggered at your exasperated expression; you’d told him to keep his mouth shut but you really should have known better. Remus had never been good at keeping secrets from his family; he always managed to blurt them out, accidentally or not.

“So are you also in love with a Hufflepuff?” James crossed his legs, the silky fabric of his trousers tensing around his thighs and your gaze flickered downwards unwillingly. You blinked, quickly looking away, as a soft flush crept up the back of your neck. Sirius grinned at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and you rolled your eyes at him. The teasing was going to be incessant. Remus had already started making snide comments.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer, and you sighed. “No, surprisingly the only thing Marlene and I don’t share is our taste in men.”

Sirius laughed again and you pulled a face. If he continued being so obvious, James was sure to guess he knew.

“Does Sirius know who it is?” And there it was. The surprise was evident in his tone, his voice tinged with barely audible hurt, and guilt shot through you. Sure, if the man in question had been anyone other than him, he would have been one of the first to know. But you couldn’t afford to affect whatever friendship you had with your silly feelings.

You nodded, sending Sirius a poisonous glare, and placing your hands flat on the table. “Sirius guessed. And I’d say it was pure luck, judging by the way he stumbled on the name.”

“So if I guess, you’ll tell me whether I’m right.” James steepled his fingers together, eyes sparking, and your own widened. If there was one thing you knew and always abided by, it was to never challenge James to a game. Although his competitive nature translated well into his work, you had seen him and Sirius fighting to win, and learnt.

But it would be unfair in his eyes if he didn’t get a shot. You could always lie if he ever guessed correctly. “…Fine.”

He grinned; teeth almost sharklike. This was a bad idea. His eyes darted around the room, appraising every guy slowly before stopping on a pair playing Wizard’s Chess. You stifled a laugh as one got splattered with slime, wiping it off his face with a grimace. “Diggle.”

You shook your head, wrinkling your nose. Diggle was in the year below but only a couple months younger than you; you weren’t into boys who still had the mental maturity to find fart jokes funny. James glanced at Sirius who shrugged in response, at least he wasn’t going to give it away.

“Is it someone close to me?” James asked, fiddling with his watch as he watched for your reaction.

You hesitated, looking to the side as you thought of how best to answer. “I don’t think I said I’d answer your questions.”

He gave you a long hard stare and you met him with equal determination. You weren’t prepared to let yourself be thoroughly embarrassed that easily. James glanced away, slender fingers tapping against the table and your mouth was suddenly dry.

“Podmore.”

“No, however, I need to go talk to Marlene,” you hesitated, fumbling with your excuse. “About my Alchemy essay, so I will see you around.”

You brushed down your skirt, tucking your book under one arm as you waved them goodbye. James looked as if he were about to say something before he hesitated and thought better of it, resorting to a nod instead. Sirius waved you a cheery goodbye, the most evil twinkle dwelling in his eyes, and you returned him a bitter smile.

You managed to avoid James for the rest of the day, darting round corners and forcing Marlene to sit in between the two of you in any shared lessons. But you knew you couldn’t keep this up for long; Lily and Mary had started to give you weird looks.

“Shingleton.” James murmured as he passed you on the way out of Potions, and you shook your head with a grin. At least he was no closer, he was suggesting people from completely the wrong House.

The next time you saw him was dinner, a vacant space left beside him. You narrowed your eyes as he patted it cheerily, waving you over. On the other side of it, a seat up from where he usually sat, was Remus and you shot him a glare, huffing out a breath. Trudging over to James’ side, you slid onto the seat, flinching as your leg brushed against his.

“Toots.”

You scoffed. Of course he didn’t want to just spend time in your wonderful company. “Nice to see you too, James.”

“Come on, please give me a hint.” He sent you a pleading look, eyes big and round, and you couldn’t help but feel a little tempted to tell him. But again, you had enough self-preservation instincts to realise that immediate rejection was not what you were after.

You turned to Remus, giving him a wry smile. “Hello Remus. How kind of you to save me a seat.”

Sirius snorted from his seat across the table, turning it into a cough as you scowled at him.

“You’re welcome. Besides, I’m really enjoying watching James trying to guess,” you raised an eyebrow, “and you squirming.”

There it was. You hated them all; this was absolute torture. You could have, in theory, not sat with them, but you knew James would have made enough of a scene to fully embarrass you either way. Lily, Mary, and Marlene were at the end of the table, where you would usually be, and you sent them longing looks. If only.

Marlene caught your eye and smirked, glancing suggestively between you and James as she wiggled your eyebrows. For Merlin’s sake, of course she was in on this ridiculous match-making plan too.

You sighed. “Remus, I thought when I told you about my crush, you’d keep your mouth shut.”

“They were ragging on me about not ever having a date for Hogsmeade, and apparently we look like we’re dating already so I should ask you out. I told them I already had and that you’d said no because you like someone else,” Remus rattled off what had happened, and you rolled your eyes. Stupid boys and their stupid pride.

“You could’ve just said that I wasn’t interested. And left it that.” You knew why he hadn’t, that was obvious, but it still infuriated you. You’d said it in confidence, feeling a little guilty, but knowing that you were doing the right thing by not leading him on. Now you strongly regretted it.

“Stebbins?” James interjected, having been barely paying attention to the conversation. He’d been too busy scoping out the room for potential crushes, dismissing them for being too ugly, not good enough for you, too dim, too dull, and soon made his way around the room without finding anyone that fit his criteria. So he had to go back round and lower his standards for who you might like, although they clearly weren’t worthy. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much that you liked someone who he thought was miles below your league.

“Nope.” You barely spared him a look, deep in conversation with Remus. For some reason that stung.

The plates in front of you filled with food, but even the delicious meal couldn’t distract you from the bitter mood you’d settled into. You pinched roast chicken between the tongs, ladled peas onto your plate and settled on baby potatoes to make up the rest of your meal. It looked deceptively bland, a white hunk of meat and boring vegetables but you could barely stomach this.

“Gravy?” Sirius offered you the spoon and you shook your head, prodding at your plate. James looked at you weirdly, but you brushed it off as you used the food as an excuse not to talk.

You decided to skip dessert, main course being sufficient to sustain you for the rest of the evening, and headed back to the Common Room. Slughorn had set you yet another essay, this time on the properties of Angel’s Trumpet Draught, so you’d already taken out a couple of the thick tomes in the library that might contain information. The rest you hoped was in your class textbook; you really couldn’t be bothered to trawl through book after book to find enough information to fill the required space.

You set yourself up quite nicely in the corner of the Room, books spread out around you and taking up the whole table. You hoped that was enough of a hint to leave you alone. To add to that, you had your back to the room so that you really looked unapproachable.

Remus was first back from dinner, making a beeline for you as soon as he stepped through the portrait hole. “I’m sorry about dinner.”

You groaned, shaking your head. “It was awful, it was so unbelievably awkward.”

“Yeah, I could tell.” Remus, not taking the hint from your piles of work, settled into the seat next to you. He grimaced. “James is so oblivious.”

Laughing, you nodded in agreement, quickly scribbling out notes on a relevant paragraph before returning your focus to Remus. “Tell me about it. James was just listing off all of these names and I can’t believe he can’t see that he’s the one I like.”

Remus’ eyes darted to something behind you, and you turned round, expecting to see Sirius pulling a face, or something of that kind. He was insufferable in that way. Instead, your heart dropped.

James stared at you, mouth dropped open, making it abundantly clear he’d heard your conversation. Oh Merlin. You swallowed, feeling your eyes prick and heat rise up the back of your neck.

“I’m going to my dorm.” You swept everything off the table into your arms, ignoring how pages bent and parchment crumpled. Side-stepping James neatly, you ducked your head as you passed Sirius and Peter, and headed up to your room. That was mortifying. You couldn’t ever show your face again.

You heard James shout behind you, but you just picked up the pace. You were not going to get rejected in front of your entire House. His shouts grew louder as he caught up with you, but you hopped on the stairs before him, breathing a sigh of relief. As a boy, he wouldn’t be able to reach you; the stairs were charmed to make sure he couldn’t go up them.

Your feet slipped from underneath you. But of course he knew a way around that.

You slid down on your stomach, papers and quills spilling from your grasp. Tumbling into the grasp of two broad arms, you took a moment to reorient yourself before quickly breaking free. James had been the one to catch you and he now helped you up, stacking your sheets untidily.

“Y/N, please don’t run now.”

You blinked, breathing harshly as you pursed your lips. You nodded, feeling eyes on you from all around.

“Go on, scram.” Sirius yelled at the onlookers, who were mostly from younger years, and even if they weren’t, they were scared enough of the Marauders and their tricks to obey instantly.

James grabbed your hands, waiting for everyone to leave, as he rubbed a calloused thumb over your skin. “I heard what you said.”

You smiled waterily, breathing out a laugh. “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, James, you don’t-”

“Wait,” he interrupted. “Let me talk first. I like you too so will you go on a date to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday?”

“You like me too?”

James almost chuckled at your gobsmacked expression, before realising that probably wasn’t the right response. “Yes, you fool. Have done since about fifth year, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh,” you breathed, speechless. Your lips moved soundlessly as you tried to think of what to say, mind blank with surprise.

James brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, hand moving down to cup your cheek. “The only thing I want to know is if you’ll go on a date with me to Hogsmeade.”

“Yes,” you grinned. “Of course!”

-

-

hp taglist: @missmulti @dreamer821 @1marvelavengers1 @samnblack @neymarlionelmessi7 @okkulta @gredandforge @yourenotafailureoverall​ @milkshakelol @natblidaclexa

james potter taglist: @methamphetaminee @thefernandasantana @uglipotata72829 @lozzybowe @persephonehemingway @sunandmoonchild158 @blisfvlll @mads-bri @fific7 @ccosmic-illusion @icareabouteverythxng @blackblossomqueen @wheezyreads @tugabooos @atomic-chickenwings @its-evita-here @inkandpen22 @rue-123 @emilianamason @mesmerisedalien @frecklesandfirecrackers @aspiringsloth20

be added here

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol. 2 Sakamaki Shuu [Track 5 + Epilogue]

Original title: 愛しうる限り & エピローグ

Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 2 Sakamaki Shuu

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Toriumi Kousuke

Translator’s note: This CD really did deliver near the very end and tugged onto my heartstrings BIG TIME. Shuu being honest with myself and realizing just how much he loves the MC is honestly one of my favorite things in the world. ;w; He definitely solidified himself as nr. 2 in my heart once more. (Sorry Shuu, Subaru will forever be number one. <3)

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 5: As Long as our Love Lasts

Shuu is playing the violin again.

( At some point, I grew tired of counting, or even thinking about how many times I had played the same song, or how many days - or perhaps even months - had passed since she fell into a deep slumber. )

*Snap*

“Oh...The string...I haven’t taken care of this thing for a while, so I guess this was bound to happen. ...In the end, my song never reached you, huh?”

*Thud*

He walks over to the bed.

“I’ve honestly seen enough...of this never-changing expression. I wish I could have seen a glimpse of your past self for one last time, but I guess it can’t be helped.”

He takes a seat.

*Rustle*

“I’m sure you’re aware, but I always hated being waken up from my naps. Therefore, hearing your approaching footsteps was the most annoying sound in the world to me. However, having your face be the very first thing I saw when I opened my eyes after you interrupted my sleep, honestly wasn’t half bad. ...Just the fact I felt that way, means that you must have at least meant something to me. 

...If you were to ask me the same question you did before, then I would probably give you the following answer. ーー You are special to me. Not because your blood is delicious. You are the only woman on this planet who I wouldn’t want to lose, even if your blood were to disappear, If only I had said these words to you back then...”

Shuu suddenly collapses onto the sheets.

*Rustle* 

“...Ah...The effects are finally kicking in, huh? ...I haven’t been getting a wink of sleep as of late...So to ensure I can finally get a sound sleep...Cough, cough...”

*Cling*

“I drank a certain drug from this bottle earlier...You’re not going to wake up anyway...So you don’t mind if I sleep alongside you, right? Even if that is an eternal slumber...When you’re with me, I don’t mind. That’s just how much Iーー...”

He scoots closer.

*Smooch*

“...love you. ...Ugh...Cough, cough...Haah, haah...I finally gave you the words you’ve been dying to hear...yet you’re missing out on them...You foolish woman...Hahaha...I guess I shouldn’t say that, huh...? Ugh...”

Shuu loses consciousness.

*Shatter*

( I lost the feeling in my limbs, before my mind went blank as well and before I knew it, I was unable to think of anything. I couldn’t fight back against my heavy eyelids. Now I can finally get some rest again. ーー That’s what I thought, yet...Aah, there it is again. I can hear her voice again. Per usual, she’s calling my name as if her life depends on it. I’ve heard this voice a million times, but in the end, it’s nothing but my mind playing tricks on me. Even if I wake up, you won’t be there anyway. Therefore, I chose eternal sleep. )

*Rustle* 

( You’re persistent...Guess you’re stubborn even within my dreams, huh? )

You continue to call his name.

( Oh come on...Just let me sleep... )

You persist.

( Like I said, pipe down. Don’t shout my name over and over... )

*Rustle rustle*

“Nn...Hm? ...Ugh...”

*Rustle*

“What do you want? I was having such a nice nap...”

*Rustle*

“Ah...Oh? You...are awake? So that wasn’t just a hallucination right now? Or rather, why are you crying?”

You tell Shuu you thought he had died.

“Died? ...Oh, right. Why am I alive as well? Did you do something?”

You continue to sob.

“I can’t tell when you’re bawling like that...Hm? The taste of your blood...lingers inside my mouth.”

You explain.

“...You frantically tried to feed me your blood thinking that might be able to bring me back to life? I won’t deny that my wounds heal quicker when I have your blood...but I didn’t think it could serve as an antidote as well. Your blood really is something else. Well, you still won against it though. ...Oi, I don’t mind if you’re crying, but give me a good look at your face.”

*Rustle*

“I’m asking you to move closer. My body still feels heavy, I can’t move. Come on, scoot over.”

You move closer.

“How long has it been...? I’m actually reflected in your eyes.”

Shuu embraces you.

“Haah...”

*Rustle*

“Keep still. I can’t put in much strength since my arms are still numb.”

You ask Shuu what happened.

“I’m the one who wants to know what happened. Honestly, what made you suddenly wake up? Is it because I finally genuinely admitted my own feelings...?”

You tilt your head to the side.

“You know, you’ve been asleep this whole time, remember?”

You look at him in surprisement.

“Don’t tell me, you didn’t have a clue?”

You nod.

“Well, it happened out of nowhere, so I guess it’s obvious considering you were unconscious as well. ...No, it’s fine if you don’t remember. That was a nightmare anyway.”

You ask him if it was rough.

“...Yeah.”

*Rustle*

“A lot happened...It was one hell of a ride. But right now, rather than letting you go...”

*Smooch*

“Haah...Come on, don’t get all surprised over a little kiss still. However, I don’t dislike that side of you either. When you were asleep, you wouldn’t react no matter how many times I did this after all.”

*Smooch*

“...What? Don’t panic.”

You note his behavior seems off.

“Weird? You’re the last person I want to hear that from though. I told you, remember? I went through a lot. That being said, it doesn’t matter. It’s just...I came to realize a few things.”

You tilt your head to the side. 

“How you felt, for example. Or how important it is to put things into words every now and then. ...And what you mean to me, I suppose. ...I believe you woke up because I finally understood those things. Well, you don’t seem to realize that yourself though. Oh, right...I should apologize while I can. I’m sorry for acting indifferent towards you up till now. I deeply regret it. Soーー”

*Rustle rustle*

“...Please don’t get upset and fall into a slumber again, it pains me”

You tell him you never meant to do that to him.

“Even if that wasn’t your intention, it still happened. And it was much more wicked than having you lash out at me or run away from home. Not to mention it was extremely bothersome. I had to look after you 24/7, right? In that regard...you really are a handful.”

You apologize.

“Haha...You don’t need to say sorry, really. I’ve already accepted it. I’m to blame for falling in love with such a woman.”

Your eyes widen in sheer surprise.

“...What?”

You ask him to repeat himself.

“I said I love you, what about it? I said it earlier as we...Ah, right. I guess you didn’t hear me back then since you were still asleep. ...Haha, look at those rounded eyes, your face looks hilarious. ...I really do prefer seeing you like this.”

*Smooch*

“I understand you are having trouble believing me. I’ve only got myself to blame for that. However, I’m sure you’ll soon come to realize. I already had plenty regrets while you were asleep. From here on out, I’ll tell you these words until you’ll be tired of hearing them ーー How much I love you, that is.”

*Smooch*

Track 6: Epilogue

“...Hey.”

You turn around.

“You’re ogling way too much. It looks shameless, so come here.”

You run over

“Is an instrument store really that special to you?”

You nod.

“Well, I can imagine you have little affiliation with these places. When I bring up the name of a composer, you usually look at me as if I’m speaking Chinese. Although despite that, you seemed happy to visit this place.”

You explain.

“Ahー So that’s why. Honestly, it would have been much easier to just come by myself, but I’d rather not make you upset again by ignoring you.”

You smile, thanking him.

“...I see. Whatever. ...Anyway, I requested a full maintenance along with replacing the broken string, so it might take a while. We’ll get in the way if we wait here, so let’s go over there.”

The two of you move to another room.

*Creaaak*

You look around.

“It’s a test room. Customers can use this place to test out the intruments before purchase. There’s nobody here right now, so the owner said we can make ourselves comfortable.”

You ask Shuu if he plans to buy a new violin.

“No, I’m not buying anything. I like my current violin.”

You seem confused, wondering why you’re here then.

“You really are a fool, aren’t you?”

Shuu pulls you closer.

*Rustle*

“To kill some time, obviously.”

You get slightly flustered. 

“It’s a perfect way to combat the boredom, no? It’s muh more comfortable than having to wander around outside. On top of that...This place is soundproof. You can scream as loud as you want, nobody will hear. I’m sure you like the sound of that as well? ーー That being said, we have to think about your health. I doubt you’re already back in top shape, so I won’t do anything if you don’t want me to.”

You hesitate. 

“Hm~? In that case, you want it?”

You go quiet.

“Cat got your tongue? I seem to recall a certain someone was displeased because they were being ‘used’?  Clearly tell me what you want. Right now, I can actually live up to your wishes. ...What do you want from me?”

You ask for his fangs. 

“Hehe...I hate being ordered around, but hearing you beg for it isn’t bad at all. Especially when it’s the words ‘Suck my blood, please’.”

Shuu bites you.

“Mmh...Nn...I said you could make all the noise you want, remember? It’s not like anyone but me can hear.”

You get embarrassed. 

“Heh. First you beg for it and now you get all embarrassed. You’re kind of contradicting yourself there, no? Well, it doesn’t matter. In that case, I’ll go for one of your more sensitive spots so you won’t be able to suppress your voice. Mmh...”

*Gulp*

“Hah...Exactly...Let me hear more...Why still hesitate at this point?”

You explain. 

“You’re worrying for nothing per usual. You no longer need to be scared that I’ll find you annoying or get tired of you. Well, I won’t deny that there’s times I get a little irritated by your behavior. I’m sure I might be a little grumpy when you disturb my sleep as well. 

However, I would never grow to dislike you over something like that. I already know what kind of woman you are. You’re the type to beg for my fangs in a place like this. On top of that, a loudmouth who loves to meddle with other people’s affairs and quite the handful at times. To be honest, too much of a bother to keep by one’s side. 

You puff out your cheeks. 

“Haha. It’s the truth, no? However, despite all of that, I don’t want to let you go. So don’t worry. Just let out your voice to your heart’s content, giving yourself over to me all you want. I’ve already decided I will love every side of you after all.”

*Smooch*

ーー THE END ーー

[littlemixnet]

To me, a good ally is someone who is consistent in their efforts – there’s a difference between popping on a pride playlist or sprinkling yourself in rainbow glitter once a year and actually defending LGBT+ people against discrimination. It means showing my LGBT+ fans that I support them wholeheartedly and am making a conscious effort to educate myself, raise awareness and show up whenever they need me to. It would be wrong of me to benefit from the community as a musician without actually standing up and doing what I can to support. As someone in the public eye, it’s important to make sure your efforts are not performative or opportunistic. I’m always working on my allyship and am very much aware that I’ve still got a lot of unlearning and learning to do. There are too many what I call ‘dormant allies’, believing in equality but not really doing more than liking or reposting your LGBT+ mate’s content now and again. Imagine if that friend then saw you at the next march, or signing your name on the next petition fighting for their rights? Being an ally is also about making a conscious effort to use the right language and pronouns, and I recently read a book by Glennon Doyle who spoke of her annoyance and disappointment of those who come out and are met with ‘We love you…no matter what’. I’d never thought of that expression like that before and it really struck a chord with me. ‘No matter what’ suggests you are flawed. Being LGBT+ is not a flaw. Altering your language and being conscious of creating a more comfortable environment for your LGBT+ family and friends is a good start. Nobody is expecting you to suddenly know it all, I don’t think there’s such a thing as a perfect ally. I’m still very much learning. Even recently, after our Confetti music video I was confronted with the fact that although we made sure our video was incredibly inclusive, we hadn’t brought in any actual drag kings. Some were frustrated, and they had every right to be. You can have the right intentions and still fall short. As an open ally I should have thought about that, and I hadn’t, and for that I apologise. Since then I’ve been doing more research on drag king culture, because it’s definitely something I didn’t know enough about, whether that was because it isn’t as mainstream yet mixed with my own ignorance. But the point is we mess up, we apologise, we learn from it and we move forward with that knowledge. Don’t let the fear of f**king up scare you off. And make sure you are speaking alongside the community, not for the community. Growing up in a small Northern working-class town, some views were, and probably still are, quite ‘old fashioned’ and small-minded. I witnessed homophobia at an early age. It was a common thought particularly among men that it was wrong to be anything but heterosexual. I knew very early on I didn’t agree with this, but wasn’t educated or aware enough on how to combat it. I did a lot of performing arts growing up and within that space I had many LGBT+ (mainly gay) friends. I’ve been a beard many a time let me tell you! But it was infuriating to see friends not feel like they could truly be themselves. When I moved to London I felt incredibly lonely and like I didn’t fit in. It was my gay friends (mainly my friend and hairstylist, Aaron Carlo) who took me under their wing and into their world. Walking into those gay bars or events like Sink The Pink, it was probably the first time I felt like I was in a space where everyone in that room was celebrated exactly as they are. It was like walking into a magical wonderland. I got it. I clicked with everyone. My whole life I struggled with identity – being mixed race for me meant not feeling white enough, or black enough, or Arab enough. I was a ‘tomboy’ and very nerdy. I suppose on a personal level that maybe played a part in why I felt such a connection or understanding of why those spaces for the LGBT+ community are so important. One of the most obvious examples of first realising Little Mix was having an effect in the community was that I couldn’t enter a gay bar without hearing a Little Mix song and watching numerous people break out into full choreo from our videos! I spent the first few years of our career seeing this unfold and knowing the LGBT+ fan base were there, but it wasn’t until I got my own Instagram or started properly going through Twitter DMs that I realised a lot of our LGBT+ fans were reaching out to us on a daily basis saying how much our music meant to them. I received a message from a boy in the Middle East who hadn’t come out because in his country homosexuality is illegal. His partner tragically took their own life and he said our music not only helped him get through it, but gave him the courage to start a new life somewhere else where he could be out and proud. There are countless other stories like theirs, which kind of kickstarted me into being a better ally. Another standout moment would be when we performed in Dubai in 2019. We were told numerous times to ‘abide by the rules’, which meant not promoting anything LGBT+ or too female-empowering (cut to us serving a four-part harmony to Salute). In my mind, we either didn’t go or we’d go and make a point. When Secret Love Song came on, we performed it with the LGBT+ flag taking up the whole screen behind us. The crowd went wild, I could see fans crying and singing along in the audience and when we returned it was everywhere in the press. I saw so many positive tweets and messages from the community. It made laying in our hotel rooms s**tting ourselves that we’d get arrested that night more than worth it. It was through our fans and through my friends I realised I need to be doing more in my allyship. One of the first steps in this was meeting with the team at Stonewall to help with my ally education and discussing how I could be using my platform to help them and in turn the community. Right now, and during lockdown, I’d say my ally journey has been a lot of reading on LGBT+ history, donating to the right charities and raising awareness on current issues such as the conversion therapy ban and the fight for equality of trans lives. Stonewall is facing media attacks for its trans-inclusive strategies and there is an alarming amount of seemingly increasing transphobia in the UK today and we need to be doing more to stand with the trans community. Still, there is definitely a pressure I feel as someone in the public eye to constantly be saying and doing the right things, especially with cancel culture becoming more popular. I s**t myself before most interviews now, on edge that the interviewer might be waiting for me to ‘slip up’ or I might say something that can be misconstrued. Sometimes what can be well understood talking to a journalist or a friend doesn’t always translate as well written down, which has definitely happened to me before. There’ve been moments where I’ve (though well intentioned) said the wrong thing and had an army of Twitter warriors come at me. Don’t get me wrong, there are obviously more serious levels of f**king up that are worthy of a cancelling. But it was quite daunting to me to think that all of my previous allyship could be forgotten for not getting something right once. When that’s happened to me before I’ve scared myself into thinking I should STFU and not say anything, but I have to remember that I am human, I’m going to f**k up now and again and as long as I’m continuing to educate myself to do better next time then that’s OK. I’m never going to stop being an ally so I need to accept that there’ll be trickier moments along the way. I think that might be how some people may feel, like they’re scared to speak up as an ally in case they say the wrong thing and face backlash. Just apologise to the people who need to be apologised to, and show that you’re doing what you can to do better and continue the good fight. Don’t burden the community with your guilt. When it comes to the music industry, I’m definitely seeing a lot more LGBT+ artists come through and thrive, which is amazing. Labels, managements, distributors and so forth need to make sure they’re not just benefiting from LGBT+ artists but show they’re doing more to actually stand with them and create environments where those artists and their fans feel safe. A lot of feedback I see from the community when coming to our shows is that they’re in a space where they feel completely free and accepted, which I love. I get offered so many opportunities to do with LGBT+ based shows or deals and while it’s obviously flattering, I turn most of them down and suggest they give the gig to someone more worthy of that role. But really, I shouldn’t have to say that in the first place. The fee for any job I do take that feels right for me but has come in as part of the community goes to LGBT+ charities. That’s not me blowing smoke up my own arse, I just think the more of us and big companies that do that, the better. We need more artists, more visibility, more LGBT+ mainstream shows, more shows on LGBT+ history and more artists standing up as allies. We have huge platforms and such an influence on our fans – show them you’re standing by them. I’ve seen insanely talented LGBT+ artist friends in the industry who are only recently getting the credit they deserve. It’s amazing but it’s telling that it takes so long. It’s almost expected that it will be a tougher ride. We also need more understanding and action on the intersectionality between being LGBT+ and BAME. Racism exists in and out of the community and it would be great to see more and more companies in the industry doing more to combat that. The more we see these shows like Drag Race on our screens, the more we can celebrate difference. Ever since I was a little girl, my family would go to Benidorm and we’d watch these glamorous, hilarious Queens onstage; I was hooked. I grew up listening to and loving the big divas – Diana Ross (my fave), Cher, Shirley Bassey, and all the queens would emulate them. I was amazed at their big wigs, glittery overdrawn make-up and fabulous outfits. They were like big dolls. Most importantly, they were unapologetically whoever the f**k they wanted to be. As a shy girl who didn’t really understand why the world was telling me all the things I should be, I almost envied the queens but more than anything I adored them. Drag truly is an art form, and how incredible that every queen is different; there are so many different styles of drag and to me they symbolise courage and freedom of expression. Everything you envisioned your imaginary best friend to be, but it’s always been you. There’s a reason why the younger generation are loving shows like Drag Race. These kids can watch this show and not only be thoroughly entertained, but be inspired by these incredible people who are unapologetically themselves, sharing their touching stories and who create their own support systems and drag families around them. Now and again I think of when I’d see those Queens in Benidorm, and at the end they’d always sing I Am What I Am as they removed their wigs and smudged their make up off, and all the dads would be up on their feet cheering for them, some emotional, like they were proud. But that love would stop when they’d go back home, back to their conditioned life where toxic heteronormative behaviour is the status quo. Maybe if those same men saw drag culture on their screens they’d be more open to it becoming a part of their everyday life. I’ll never forget marching with Stonewall at Manchester Pride. I joined them as part of their young campaigners programme, and beforehand we sat and talked about allyship and all the young people there asked me questions while sharing some of their stories. We then began the march and I can’t explain the feeling and emotion watching these young people with so much passion, chanting and being cheered by the people they passed. All of these kids had their own personal struggles and stories but in this environment, they felt safe and completely proud to just be them. I knew the history of Pride and why we were marching, but it was something else seeing what Pride really means first hand. My advice for those who want to use their voice but aren’t sure how is, just do it hun. It’s really not a difficult task to stand up for communities that need you. Change can happen quicker with allyship.

Jade Thirlwall on the power, and pressures, of being an LGBT ally: ‘I’m gonna f**k up now and again’

[shotorozu]

putting eyeliner on them

— *♡∞:｡.｡ 2k followers special —

character(s) : multiple characters (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used— well,, reader sure does love makeup! strong quirk but the details aren’t specific

headcanon type : fluff, and the mildest of spice

note(s) : again, another followers special! i had this in my brain since january, but i wanted to wait for this exact moment to write it out! i hope it’s worth it. again, thank you all for 2k! 🤍 also i have 2-3 more things to come out later and there’s no proof-read whejdjwdk

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

midoriya izuku

↛ he loves the idea, really. you’d assume that midoriya would know how to put on eyeliner, because he’s quite the writer— but no. those hands are wobbly as heck, and his hands move with speed. so as much as he’d want to try eyeliner, he couldn’t. so, when you propose the idea of applying eyeliner on him, while sitting on his lap, he’s quite estatic— but izuku can’t help but blush when he realizes how close you guys are. he can only hold in his breath in anticipation, but he’s also quite worried about messing it up. when you show him the result, izuku’s happy! pressing a quick kiss on your lips, as he admires his eyes in the mirror but he’s probably going to smudge it in a hour

bakugou katsuki

↛ he’d say no at first, because he already knows how to put on eyeliner. why would he need your help? but when you offer to sit on his lap while you do his eyeliner, he’s scoffing— pulling you on his lap, and he’s already asking if you’re done yet but not even a few minutes has passed. and no! it’s not because he gets to be closer with you, and no, it’s not because he could intensely stare at you with that look, hands pressed against your back. he just wants to get it over with— totally. but he sure does love the outcome. we’ve only seen him wearing eyeliner under his mask, but he won’t be afraid of wearing it alone (because his talented s/o did it!) he’s smirking, complimenting you on how well you did, hands still on your thigh— basically asking you to stay. he’d fight anyone that would try to touch the eyeliner, he’ll have it as long as he possibly could.

todoroki shouto

↛ probably the person that knows the least about wearing eyeliner. compared to the others, he’s seen you do your eyeliner— and he’s really fascinated by it, so he just goes ahead and asks you! but when you mentioned sitting on his lap for better accuracy, it was like hitting two birds with one stone. not only could he get eyeliner, but he could also get closer to you so !! he didn’t seem that affected by the experience on the outside anyway, but he loved how his eyes looked with eyeliner— and the fact that you’re just so close to him didn’t really help the blood rushing to his cheeks. either way! he’s glad you were willing to put on eyeliner for him, and he could only repay you back with his affection 🤍 he’d probably learn how to put on eyeliner, so he could return the favor in the future. but the catch is that you still have to sit on his lap. he loves it, okay?

kirishima eijirou

↛ another person that has worn eyeliner in the official art! we love that. anyways, eijirou has probably worn eyeliner once or twice before— but that was pretty much it for him. he’ll watch you do your makeup most of the time, but he’ll especially pay attention to the eyeliner part. he’d ask, sure! but he’s afraid of wasting product, so he holds back from asking you :,) when you tell him you want to do his eyeliner, he’s excited! and he starts immediately preparing himself for the eyeliner. with every single stroke of your hand, he’ll excitingly ask if you’re done— showing off his signature smile, as he tries to keep still. when you finally show him, he’ll be so happy :)) but now you have to do excentric eyeliner styles on him, just do it please, he just loves how it looks! and eijirou’s just so lucky to have a talented s/o. whenever someone would ask who did his eyeliner, he’ll smile, and say your name ever so proudly.

kaminari denki

↛ kirishima 🤝 kaminari ‘ceos of wearing eyeliner in the official art’ kaminari has probably worn eyeliner a few times here and there, but that was really because mina helped him put it on. he’ll sit down beside you and watch you put on eyeliner, commenting out loud about “how the hell did you do that so easily??” it’s sorcery to him. because his hands are also quite wobbly, and his eyeliner never comes out as sisters— but rather distant cousins 💀 anyways, when you mention wanting to try colorful eyeliner on him, he was so excited— and when you sat on his lap, he’ll basically be like :0 my s/o is sitting on my lap omg afterwards, he’ll be really blushy— but he’s happy for sure. he’s pressing kisses all over your face as thanks, and he’s quick to take pictures his eyeliner— just for memory sake. but denki’s probably going to smudge the eyeliner in 30 minutes rip

shinsou hitoshi

↛ it,, never really crossed his mind. no offense to you, really. but he has some intense dark circles under those pretty eyes, and because of that— he always assumed it wouldn’t look the best on him :,) luckily, being with you has made him believe that it wouldn’t look so bad (and that he’d need to stop being so down on himself) hitoshi is never really the one to oppose to the idea of you applying eyeliner on him, it’s not like it does any harm to either of you! but when you offer to sit on your lap— he’s quite accepting, immediately pulling you closer and closer, hands placed on the small of your back, and on your waist. turns out, hitoshi looks superb with eyeliner! it just accentuates those violet irises of his. afterwards, he’ll nibble on your soft skin- and omg the way he looks at you is enough to hypnotize you. for payment, he’ll take as many pictures as he could, (for emergency purposes. if you were sad, he could literally send you one of those selfies, and you’d cheer up.)

amajiki tamaki

↛ it’s sad because he thinks he’d look terrible. it wasn’t like shinsou’s way of thinking— where he was like ‘eh, i’d look bad. but i’m not very opposed to it.’ no, it was like ‘omg i’d look so bad, and i’d waste your ink/product and onwhdnwks’ so, you also have to reassure that it’ll be fine, and that he’s not wasting your product. when you straddle him, his cheeks will go red. like,, really red, to the point that you’re worried if he’d collapse or pass out. anyways, after 5 minutes (which felt like 5 hours to tamaki) he looks in the mirror— and he feels,, happy. he loves it because you did it, and tamaki feels a sense of relief, because it turned out just fine. he’s thanking you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck— rocking you back and forth softly. he’d be really bashful if mirio or nejire complimented him and his eyeliner. the attention is something he’s still not very used to. he’d be really sad, if he smudged the eyeliner by accident, you might have to comfort him :,)

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likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby.

do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works for audio readings without my permission :))

[penwieldingdreamer]

Falling for you

The second installment of my drabble series. Let me know what you think about it. A big thank you again to @fortheloveoffanfic for being my beta 💗 Happy reading everyone

Also here are the songs played at the pub:

Bean Pháidín , Tell me Ma-Gaelic Storm , Galway Girl - Fiddler's Green

Summary: A few weeks later finds the reader in all kinds of embarrassing situations - mostly tripping over stuff or falling over people - right in front of Lee

Warnings: none, besides fluff, clumsiness and a little tinge of jealousy

Words: 2231

Another day on the set of the second installment of the Hobbit series and already you felt like the clumsiest of all people on set. Either you’d slip, trip or let stuff fall to the ground. But it wasn’t random, it only happened whenever you were around Lee or in his close proximity.

James and Martin had made fun of the fact that it would only happen with the tall actor, but you waved them off and of course Benedict chimed into the scheme.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re falling for the King, luv.” he said one time while the four of you had been granted a break from filming. “You make a fool out of yourself because there’s that one person that makes your heart skip a beat.”

Angrily shuffling your food around the plate, you glared at the British actor. “Well thank you for the vote of confidence. If you hadn’t said it I wouldn’t have known I was such a joke on set.”

“What Ben means to say, dear,” James started, putting his hand on your arm. “is, that when you feel something for another person you get clumsy, do crazy things or fall all over yourself because you can’t concentrate around them. All three of us went through that when we met the women we knew would one day be our wives. It has nothing to do with you being bad at your work, the opposite, actually.”

Reluctantly you nodded your head, feeling like you just made a fool out of yourself again in front of those that were your friends. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve never been like that before and I fear if this happens more Pete will get tired of me messing up. I don’t want to lose this job.”

“You won’t,” Martin said with so much conviction, you couldn’t help but give him a small, teary smile. “Peter isn’t like that. He values your work as part of the crew and how you bring up new ideas or possible changes. Now if you were to set the whole place on fire that would be another case.”

Ben and James laughed softly and you couldn’t help the giggle escaping your lips when you listened to him. You were very lucky to have friends like them or you’d probably would have resigned after the first incident. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I needed this.” you said sending them a grateful smile. "But now I got to head back to work. The king on his throne is waiting for me."

All three laughed before Martin called after you. "Be careful up there and if you fall, fall in his lap, that's a lot more comfortable than the ground." he joked when you had turned back to the three actors but waved him off with your own middle finger. You knew he had a knack for putting his fingers up for the camera when he shouldn't and you were sure there were some scenes he snuck his middle finger in, just like he always did.

A chorus of laughter followed as you righted your work bag and made your way back to the set with Thranduil's throne.

Orlando stood underneath it, grinning up at Lee dressed up as the Elvenking and waited his turn. "Looking good, dad." he called with a chuckle and you could see the tall actor grin.

"Thank you, son. I feel very good up here." he answered leaning back on the chair, trying to fix his robes and wig as best as he could while a few strands were hanging in the branches of his crown.

Peter saw you emerging from the mass and called you over. "Ah, Y/N, good that you're here. Lee's just had a bit of a stumble up the stairs but we'll be doing a few headshots of him and well, you see the mess."

"Sure, I'll get right on it." you told him, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself so you'd be as relaxed as possible while working on fixing the actor. When he saw you approaching, Lee stood up and made to walk down, but you halted him with a motion of your hand. "Stay, I'm coming up so there's no repeat of that."

He stayed standing, watching you make your way up the stairs. Thank God there were handrails just in case. "If you insist

I could have come down, didn't want you to fall to your doom, dear mortal."

"Charms get you everywhere, huh?" you asked him with a grin as you ascended to the Weta built throne, pointing to the seat so he would sit back down again, keeping his long legs tugged to chair so you could start your work on his hair.

"So far it worked out rather well, I think." He told you, smiling as you gently pulled a strand away from the branch of his crown.

You couldn't help the small smile forming on your face as you listened to his jokes while you freed the last of his hair and righted his crown. A final touch of powder over his nose and you were finished. "Now, you're all done and you're looking regal again." You packed up your bag and turned to descend the stairs when you lost your footing and if it hadn't been for Lee's swift reaction, you would have tumbled down.

Short puffs of breath were leaving your mouth when you held on tightly to his shoulders, his arms circling your waist as you had fallen into his lap with that move. "Hello there." he whispered, watching your shocked face, eyes blown wide with fear. "You okay?"

Biting your lip, you couldn't help but enjoy the feel of his hands on your hip, the warmth spreading through your clothes. "I-I'm sorry, I, the stairs…I guess…missed steps." you brokenly mumbled, apparently having forgotten how to talk when you looked into his blue eyes. The contact lenses only intensified his gaze.

"Yeah, they're dangerous." Lee agreed, his head leaning closer, the rest of the world around you forgotten.

Yet before he could close the gap, Peter interrupted you with a loud whistle. "If you two turtledoves are ready, we'd like to continue." he called out to you with a chuckle. Of course everyone had seen that and you already felt the heat of your blush rising all over your body.

Carefully, yet hastily you scrambled off of Lee's lap and made your way down the stairs and to the back of the set. You would have loved for the ground to swallow you up when Benedict had come over and grinned at you.

"So, I don’t think you will tell me what that up there was.” he said matter of fact, knowing you wouldn’t even be able to describe it.

“Nope,” you said, eyeing the actor and PJ going over the next scenes with a dummy. “I’d rather leave it like it is. This is just too embarrassing."

He put his arm around your shoulders pulling you close. Martin was just walking around the corner having seen the whole thing and he instantly knew you'd be shutting down, only doing your work and nothing more, keeping your distance from Lee. The Brit found the eyes of his friend and co-Sherlock-actor, nodding once, then twice. They were your friends and could see that the sparks between their fellow actor and you were there, now they only needed to kindle the fire.

"Oh, this is wonderful." you gushed, looking around the Irish pub everyone decided to visit at the eve of their day off. "It's been too long since I had so much fun besides being on set."

Already the ciders and beers and whisky were flowing and everyone was laughing and singing with the band that played that night. James had decided to take a row of tables next to the musicians so the cast and crew that wanted to go there would fit into the seats.

"You all deserve a time off after the amazing work you did." Peter said, raising his pint of Guinness for a toast. You all followed suit, calling out a shout of "Hear, hear."

Laughing and listening to all the stories everyone was telling about their time on set, you enjoyed the feeling of warmth that spread through you. Not because of the alcohol but because of your family away from home.

"Are you enjoying the music?" James asked after a short while, himself listening to the tunes and words from his home country.

Nodding your head, you clapped your hands to the rhythm and smiled as a few people started to dance to the songs you couldn't understand the lyrics to. “What is she singing about?” you asked him, leaning in so he could understand the words with the louder music.

"It’s a really old Irish song, dating back hundreds of years in Ireland. This is one of the funny old Irish songs that is sung by a woman, and she sings about another woman." the Irish actor tried to explain over the loud music. "Back in the day women would get together and sing this song about the woman in town that was married to the man that they all wanted to be married to. ‘It’s a pity that I’m not Phaidin’s wife,’ and this woman who’s married to him, they hate her, and as the verses go on, they talk about what they’d like to do to her, like they want to break her legs and get rid of her and do anything to be this man’s wife. It’s a fun song. Irish music is like that. When you translate the words, sometimes it’s like gruesome and dark, but they’re meant in a lighthearted way."

You were always blown away by the way such a story could be shown in a nice tune. "The music is so lively, you'd never guess it's such a sad and dark story behind it."

"That's just the way the Irish are." James grinned at you before another song was starting.

"For our next song we'd love for you guys to get up, dance some more and just have fun." the female singer announced and waved to all patrons in the pub. The violin, banjo and drum began to play the first chords before the singer joined in. "Tell me ma when I go home, the boys won't leave the girls alone."

Benedict and James smiled at you, holding their hand out and pulled you from your seat and onto the provided dance floor where others had already started twirling around. "Let's dance and have some fun." the Brit said, giving you a twirl.

You couldn't help the smile that found its way on your lips as you danced around with the two actors, unbeknownst of the dark blue eyes following your moves. The dance was exhilarating and both James and Ben led you through the steps, jumping and twirling with other patrons until you were out of breath and another song was over.

When you came back to get something to drink you saw one of the seats being vacant. Lee was missing from the group of merry friends and you leaned over to Orlando, who had been sitting besides him. "Where did your dad disappear to?" you asked him, mirth coloring your words as you took a large sip of your drink.

He turned to you and smiled, patting the seat next to him, so you didn't have to stand. You were grateful for that with your feet aching from all the dancing you did with his fellow actors. "He said he needed to get back to the hotel, his flight back to the States is taking off early." Orlando said and your face must have shown your confusion as you didn't know Lee was needed back in America. "Shooting for Guardians of the Galaxy is starting in a few days and he wanted to get back earlier so he arranged it in the last few days. Peter knew about it, I'm surprised he didn't tell you."

"Oh, no, I really didn't know and Lee hadn't mentioned anything before." the disappointment colored your words and you sank back down in your seat. You couldn't help the feeling that it was something that recently happened and especially something you did or he would have been open enough to talk to you.

The British actor patted your leg and grinned. "Don't worry, he'll be back before you know it. Once he's done with that movie Lee's going to annoy us again with his dad jokes."

Nodding your head, you tried to feel confident, but still you didn't know why he didn't at least wait until you were back at the table to say his goodbyes. No he just left without so much as a word. Of course you were only there doing his make - up and hair but you had hoped that in the time you worked together you at least had become friends. Giving the dark haired actor a small smile you made your way back to your corner seat, staring off into space and trying not to get too drunk on your cider while thinking about why not even Peter had bothered to tell you his Elvenking was leaving the set sooner than planned.

Taglist:

@fortheloveoffanfic @toomanystoriessolittletime @omgkatinka @fuck-yeah-hope @wholelottatiffy @axshadows ​@a-really-bi-girl @madbaddic7ed @maggiemoo1892 @pinkzsugar @agniavateira @mary-ann84 and everyone else who wants to read this.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 150

I think for the time being, I am going to quit calling myself ‘late’ posting as long as I get the chapter up on the right day of the week *facepalm*.  Bc I am barely keeping ahead, much less remembering to queue things up.

I am so, so sorry about that....

Fair warning before anyone @s me: The French is a joke, so if I got it super wrong I am equally sorry to the degree of which it’s wrong.

Unless it’s obscene. Then I want to know so that I can laugh with you, and I am LEAVING IT.

As always, shouts out to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog!

Heaving an enormous Dutch oven onto a burner, I turned on the heat low and started chopping vegetables. After the first celery stalk, I glanced up at Derek, who sat across from Maverick in our living room.  The quarters were shaped differently, which had distressed Derek initially, but the addition of his favorite blankets to the sofa had helped.  Currently, he was completely distracted from even Mac: staring off into space, his fingers flying and flicking with a feverish, almost convulsive movement.

Maverick glanced up at me with a smile before following my gaze. “Yep, the cyber siege continues.  He’s doing well, from what Zach told me.”

“I thought he was only supposed to attack human-managed systems,” I grumbled, thinking back to the cold shower I had been subjected to that morning. Turning back to the vegetables, I made short work of the celery before taking my frustration out on the carrots. Scooping the diced vegetables into a bowl, I started measuring out paprika, sugar, salt, pepper, basil, and oregano into another bowl.  “Where’s Sam, by the way?”

“On the way,” Maverick promised. “With Terran-style tomatoes, he swears.  And Derek is only attacking systems we manage.  When BioLab 2 was set up, we had to take over water management, to protect the lab from any sort of contamination.”

The knife in my hand, brandished at three cloves of garlic, clattered to the work surface. “Seriously?” I glared at the tap, suddenly suspicious.

“Probably get water from the console,” he winced, nodding briskly at Derek, who nodded in confirmation without stopping his tapping and flicking gestures.

Groaning, I shook my head and crushed the garlic, removed the skin, and started mincing. All that was left was to wait on the tomatoes from Sam.  The garlic was potent enough, and I wanted to avoid cutting any onion until absolutely necessary since Derek was clearly parked for the duration.

I was saved about fifteen minutes later when Conor and Sam stopped at the door.  Sam waved cheerfully and held up the requested vegetables while Conor removed his boots. A quick shuffle later for Sam to remove his own shoes, and both came to the food prep area - too small to be considered a proper kitchen - to greet me. 

First, Conor gave me a big, smelly hug and a kiss on my hair. “Did you already slice the bread?”

“Ew, you gorilla!” I laughed. “And I haven’t sliced any bread yet, I wasn’t sure how long I had and I didn’t want it to get too stale.”

“They’re toasties, love.” He shook his head with a grin before swatting me on the butt. “No one cares if the bread was a bit stale before you started.”

Over his shoulder, Derek’s head bobbed side to side. “I think someone disagrees.” I looked meaningfully past him.  To Conor’s credit, he looked sheepish.

Sam squeezed around and handed me the tomatoes and gave me a hug. “Thank you for making soup.”

“I know it’s our favorite,” I winked before shooing him out of the area. “Not enough room for more than one in the kitchen. Y’all go unwind out there, and make sure you warn Derek that I’m about to start cutting onions.”

As he held up his hands and jokingly scurried away, I turned to the stove and started cursing myself. I’d forgotten to start boiling water. Snagging a small saucepan, I got a carafe of water from the console and started rectifying that, tossing in a generous pinch of salt.  Gently, I cut an X into the bottom of each tomato and set them aside before peeling and dicing the onion.  Immediately, the onion, carrots, and celery went into a food processor.  “Derek, I’m about to be loud,” I called softly before counting to ten to give him time to cover his ears or step into the corridor.  A quick blitz later, the vegetables were perfectly between a mince and a puree.

A quick swizzle of oil went into the already-hot dutch oven before adding the mirepoix and giving it a quick stir. As if on cue, Tyche and Antoine breezed through the door, noses twitching.

“I smell food,” she announced, stalking into the kitchen.  One look at the ingredients was all it took. “Ooooo you’re making the tomato soup.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “I am, and you know I don’t have room in here for spectators, unfortunately.” Arching an eyebrow, I pointed the spoon in my hand at the table.

She wasn’t having it. “One of these days, you’re going to show me how to make that. May as well be today.”

“Nice try, but I need some secrets. Besides, the longer I argue with you, the more likely the vegetables are going to scorch. Scoot!”

She scrunched her face at me but acquiesced. As I scooped the garlic into the pot, I heard her change topics. “How much longer is the stress test? My music keeps getting mixed up with Antoine’s. I don’t mind it, but…”

Antoine smiled softly and shook his head. “But it is quite a shock to expect classical music and instead her rock starts playing.”

Personally, I liked both, but still shuddered at what he was talking about. Carefully lowering three of the tomatoes into the now-boiling water, I glanced at the sauteing vegetables and gave them a quick stir to check. “We have about six more days before the repairs start, maybe four more after that?”

Conor sighed. “I wish we could ask if anything important was being hacked, not just annoying environmental controls.”

“Plants aren’t dead yet,” Sam pointed out, tipping his bottle of water toward Conor in a practiced gesture.  Everyone laughed when, rather than being reassured, Conor leapt to his feet to check on his ‘babies’ in the room.

Cursing, I dipped the tomatoes out of the boiling water and dropped them immediately into an ice bath.  A couple pokes with my trusty spoon showed they weren’t overcooked, thankfully. “None of my information for work has been acting up,” I admitted as I started peeling them. “But Pranav advised that more critical data would either go completely missing or not show any signs of infiltration.  We won’t know until after the test is over.”

“Lovely,” Tyche drawled as she watched Conor fretting over the plants. “So it’s all or nothing.”

I shrugged and dumped the tomato paste - admittedly, from the console - into the pan of other vegetables.  When I stirred, I was satisfied that the carrots, onion, and celery had cooked down to where they were soft. “In a weird way, it makes sense. They’re testing for catastrophic data breaches, which would pull everything down, or for data theft, which you wouldn’t want to leave traces of.”

The corner of Antoine’s mouth quirked up as I dropped three more tomatoes into the pan of boiling water. “No hidden boba tea this time, that is reassuring.”

Hands still moving without hesitation, Derek whipped his head toward Antoine, paused, and turned back to where he had been staring. Derek’s version of a glare.

“That was Charly,” I responded in unexpected unison with Maverick and Conor.  I smirked while dumping the already-peeled tomatoes into the processor with another pinch of salt. “Seriously, Derek had nothing to do with that other than divine retribution.” I paused for a moment. “Although I do have to admit that the cold showers do seem to track with what Charly reported.”

That only got a shrug from Derek, which was as good as an admission.

The conversation shifted again - something Conor and Sam were working on in the aeroponics labs that I had already heard multiple details on, plus repetition.  Tuning it out, I pulled out the last three tomatoes, dropped them in the ice bath, and took a platter with a loaf of bread, sliced cheese, and butter out to the table. “Mav, can you start setting up the sandwiches?”

He went to stand, but Tyche shooed him back down. “I got it. She may not let me help make the soup on this one, but I can prep a grilled cheese with the best.” Staring me in the eye, she started cutting slices from the loaf defiantly.

I just laughed it off. This was the only tomato soup either of us liked, and she had been chasing me for the recipe for ages.  It had become a running joke at this point, so without hesitation, I moved back to the food prep area, peeled the remaining tomatoes, and gave another warning that I was going to be loud.  Some more blitzing later, the now-pureed tomatoes went into the pan of veggies along with the spices I had already measured out, the juice from one lemon, and enough water to fill the pan three-quarters full.  Leaving that to boil, I moved the boiling water off the stove and swapped it for a grill-pan.

“Sophie!” Conor cried from the armchair where he perched. “You’ve seen the plants we’re growing in the lab! Tell them we’ve managed a crop of roots!”

I winced. “Jury’s out… I’m not sure how aeroponic potatoes are going to turn out, but I can confirm they are in the process of finding out?”

Tyche’s knife fell to the table, and she moved her mouth silently in a very accurate imitation of a fish before managing to sputter. “Air-grown… potatoes?”

The confusion on Antoine’s face was painful to look at. He started to speak before stopping himself and instead pulling up his datapad, jotting a message, and flicking it out to the room.

When I read the message, the confusion was so clear that I hurt my sinuses snorting. Des pomme de terre en l’air? Pommes aeriennes? Talk about being lost in translation…. “Conor, Sam… I think Antoine has the perfect name for those if they work out. Just sayin’”

Tyche snorted and shook her head before handing me the platter, with a stack of perfectly buttered bread, two slices of cheese between every other slice of bread.  The soup had just come to a simmer, so I was stirring intently and just nodded for her to start grilling sandwiches.  Several appreciative sniffs and twenty minutes later, six bowls of soup and six matching sandwiches - three cut vertically and three cut diagonally, because it mattered and was not a battle I was willing to fight - hit the table.  Tyche politely placed the salt cellar and a pepper grinder on the table, although the glare she dished out to the collected group promised strong retaliation to anyone who touched them.

I held up half of my grilled cheese in a mock-toast. “To soup night!”

“To air potato soup, soon!” Maverick offered up with a grin, only for everyone to echo his sentiment with the exception of Derek - who just held up half of his sandwich with one hand and tapped away with the other, not even relenting to eat.

Frankly, as long as he spared a hand to eat, I couldn’t bring myself to care.  He took these tests very seriously, and generally only stopped when he was completely asleep.

Everyone dug in, but it was only after my first spoonful that I spoke up. “Considering how long it took to make sure the tomatoes wouldn’t be poisonous, I’m not sure the potatoes will be ready before we get to Von.”

Conor and Sam nodded, as did Tyche and Antoine, but Maverick stopped with his bowl halfway to his mouth.  Setting it down gently, he angled his head. “What do you mean, poisonous?”

“They’re nightshades,” Conor told him, as calmly as if he was telling us that water was wet. “Tomatoes are the only edible berries of that family, and potatoes are the only edible tubers, so we have to be extra careful.”

Maverick’s eyes grew wide and turned toward his soup. Tyche just reached out and patted his hand. “You’ve eaten this soup for years, and you love tomatoes. They’re safe, I swear.  And Sam won’t let Sophia near the new ones until he’s completely sure they’ll be okay to eat.”

Sam nodded, shoving a soup-covered wedge into his mouth. “We’re growing them in simulated Von-light, hoping that keeps the roots from creating chlorophyll.  If we’re wrong, there’s a forty-three-point-six percent chance they won’t grow at all, ten-point-five percent chance they will give you a stomach ache, eighteen-point-four percent they won’t taste good, and twenty-seven-point-five percent they will taste good and be safe to eat at the same time.”

“Meaning they won’t kill you, you might get a tummy ache, but most likely for this generation, they just won’t grow,” Conor translated.

“Hang on,” I held up my spoon. “What kind of stomachache are we talking here?”

The mad botanists looked at each other and made a few thoughtful faces. Finally, Conor nodded and Sam spoke. “Unripe apples,” he stated flatly. “But just unripe apples.”

“Oh, that’s not too bad,” I shrugged and crunched into my sandwich.

Derek finished his half-sandwich and blindly reached for another. He had it halfway to his mouth before he looked at it and dropped it back to the plate in alarm. You would have thought it tried to bite him rather than vice versa.

Antoine shook his head and reached past the vertically cut sandwich Derek had dropped and delicately handed him a diagonally cut one. “Here you go, friend.”

Glaring at the sandwich like it may betray him, he bit it viciously before going back to the screen he could only see in his mind, seemingly satisfied that the sandwich would not change into the offending shape.

I told you, it matters.

<< Prev  Masterlist  Next >>

[alittlelove4u]

haikyuu boys proposing

including: Tendou • Iwaizumi

WARNINGS: manga spoilers, post time-skip

NOTE: Should I make a part2 ??

masterlist

Tendou Satori

The two of you went to Paris after high school for a trip and that was when he fall in love with the city. You visited all the cities across the country. Nizza, Reims and Paris, wich was your last destination. Satori and you spend the whole day wandering around and doing all the tourist stuff everyone does. When it started to get late, you decided to head back too your hotel. Satori thought it would be a great idea to walk to the hotel and that’s how you got lost. None of you knew the city or any French and both of you were hungry and tired. Around 12 p.m you were still walking through some alleys, looking for an open restaurant or at least a cap.

,,Satori, I’m tired,“ you put your head again his chest while he was translating some street sings on his phone. He put his phone away and pulled you closer to him, so he could kiss your forehead.

,,There are some benches, let’s sit down for a moment.“ He put his arm around you and lead you to the benches near a bridge. There were a flew streetlights and someone was playing music in their home. The two of you sat down and you laid your head on his shoulder.

Satori looked down on you. You seemed so tired, your eyes were barely open and he wanted to punch himself. It was his fault that you were lost. ,,I’m sorry, Y/N,“ he whispered, worried you could see the fear in his eyes when you looked up.

,,Satori, it’s not you fault.“ You assured him with a smile and placed a kiss on his lips. Of course you were tired and a little annoyed but it wasn’t his fault. No one could have known you’d get lost.

,,I love you, my paradise.“ He kissed you again, but this time longer and more passionate. Satori still can’t believe how lucky he is, that you love him. The last couple of weeks felt like a dream and he had to pinch himself a flew times to make sure it was real. To make sure you were really with him in France. These weeks were so beautiful and he didn’t want to ruin them.

,,Stand up,“ he said with a smile and offered you his hand. You were confused but took it and let him pull you closer. Satori put his arms around you and started moving to the music wich came from one of the open windows.

,,I love you.“ You giggled as he spinned you around yourself and pulled you against his chest.

There were only a flew lights but it was enough for him to see you and good god, you looked so beautiful. Your skin was glowing under the yellow lamp and you bright smile made him fall in love once again. You were his and he was yours. He loved you and you love him and he wants to spend every day with you. That’s all he could think of that moment.

He pulled you into another kiss. His hands around your face and you on your toes, with music in the distance and the light behind you. ,,God, I wanna marry you.“ He slipped as you placed your hands your his.

,,What?“ You asked still shoked. The two of you never talked about something like that. Good god, you just graduated from high school. And yet...you liked the idea of spending the rest of your life with Tendou.

Satori‘s smile disappeared and anxiety took over his body. He didn’t meant to say it out loud. Of course you wouldn’t want to marry him. He probably just destroyed your trip, maybe even your relationship.

,,I...I didn’t meant it like that. I-I mean maybe one day, i- if you want,“ he stuttered anxious and didn’t dare to look into your eyes. He was too afraid to move or even breathe and when you kissed him he almost suffocate in the air.

,,To bad, because I just wanted to say yes.“

Satori didn’t say anything. He just bit his cheeks as hard as he could. Maybe he was dreaming or hallucinating. Maybe he died in the plane on the way to France. But even when he tasted blood, he was in Paris with you and you just kind of accepted his proposal. ,,Really?“

,,Well, if we were in a romantic city, maybe like...Rome or Paris, and if you’d ask me to marry you...I might say yes.“ you smiled at him cocky and that’s when he realized you were serious.

The red haired boy stepped away from you and went down on his knee. ,,Y/N Y/L/N, would you like to marry me?“ he asked still a little anxious but also smiling.

,,Tendou Satori, I’d love to marry you,“ you answered with a smile and pulled him back on his feet. Satori covered your face with kisses and even a tear rolled over his cheek. ,,I love you, so much,“ ,,I love you too,“ he whispered as you whipped away the tear. He repeated these words so often, in the end you were yelling it through the streets of Paris.

It took the two of you another hour to find your hotel and the next morning Satori woke up before you. He looked at you and once again he pinched himself. You were sleeping in his arms, with your head on his chest and fingers intertwined with his. It was probably already noon and the sun was shining in your room and he still couldn’t believe his luck.

Tendou Y/N

You really accepted his proposal. You’d really get married. Maybe not now but soon, he thought to himself and smiled.

Y/L/N Satori

It would take some time for him to fully believe this.

Iwaizumi Hajime

You and Hajime just moved into your first apartment. It was your last year in college, but you’ve been together since Highschool anyway.

It was during your first week and you still haven’t cleaned up everything. There were some boxes and you didn’t have a dining/coffee table, wich is why you were studying on the floor of your living room. It was late and Hajime was supposed to bring food and when he finally came home you were starving.

,,Where have you been? I’m starving.“ Your anger disappear as soon as you smelled the delicious pizza.

,,The Professor couldn’t shut up and I missed the train. Sorry, Babe,“ he replied and kissed your cheek. Hajime had an exhausting day but even now your smile let him forget everything bad in this world.

,,Well, you’re home now, so let’s eat.“ You smiled at him and brought the pizza into the living area, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

He came home... Home?

He knew this should feel different but it didn’t. It wasn’t anything new he felt, when he enters the door, to the new apartment. He realized it didn’t felt like home either when he moved into his dorm or when he visited his parents and came through the front door. When he was younger he often thought to himself, he wanted to go home, even when he was in his own room this thought crossed his mind. It always felt nice going home to his parents but it never felt like home. He never could fully let go of everything. There was always some kind of discomfort.

Hajime was too tired to think about something like this. He grabbed the drinks and followed you into the living area. You were already siting on the floor and waiting for him. Your books were piled up behind you and the whole room smelled like pizza. A soft smile appeared on his face. You were sitting in your first home as a couple and dear god you looked so beautiful.

He never felt homesick when he was with you. He never wanted to go home when you were around.

,,How was your day?“ he asked you and sit down across from you. The two of you talked for hours, telling each other about your day and even though it wasn’t anything special Hajime felt like at home. It was just you and him. You knew everything about him and had seen him in every mood and you loved him anyway. He didn’t have to think about anything when he’s around you. No masking or lying or pretending to like something.

That night Hajime fell asleep as soon as he felt your presence next to him in the bed. He always felt safe when he knew you were there and it filled him with some sort of pride that you always fell asleep in his arms. You felt safe enough with him to let your guard down. Hajime put his arms you and pulled you as close as possible. He probably would have lost his mind if it wasn’t for you. No matter how hard it could get, you would let him forget everything.

That night he had a nightmare. It wasn’t a nightmare in particular. Everything seemed normal. His apartment, his friends and family, his job. Every was fine but you weren’t there and this feeling ate him from the inside. Knowing he let you go shattered him.

When Hajime finally woke up, it was around 5 a.m and the first rays of sunshine appeared behind the horizon. You were still sleeping next to him with your legs intertwined with his and you face on his chest. He let out an relived sigh and took your hand in his.

You woke up to some loud noises coming from the living room. Hajime was gone but you heard him cursing and the light was still on. You quickly got up and followed the noise. Hajime was sitting on the floor, surrounded by open boxes and countless stuff that should be put away. He didn’t notice you at first, his eyes we’re glued to something in his hands.

,,Hajime?“ You asked worried and turned on the light in the kitchen. Your boyfriend looked up to you with panic in his eyes. He knew how weird this must have seemed. ,,What are you doing?“ You came closer and sit down in front of him.

,,I was looking for something,“ he replied and looked down to his hands. A couple of months ago, on his birthday, his parents visited and his mother gave him something. It was her old engagement ring, his father gave to her. She smiled softly at him and kissed his cheek. ,,You’ll need this one.“ she said to him and looked at you, who was talking with his father.

,,Y/N, I love you.“ He finally looked up to you and smiled softly. You were starting to get worried. ,,I love you, too,“ you replied a little confused, yet you waited for him to say something.

Hajime finally sat up and took you hand in his. ,,Y/N, I want to spend the rest of our lives together...Would- would you like to marry me?“ His voice was shaking and he never looked more scared, than at this moment. He started doubting himself. He should have waited. Valentine’s Day is coming up and in a romantic restaurant you’d maybe say yes. 

,,Yes.“ you smiled with tears in your eyes and pulled him closer into a kiss. ,,Yes, I wanna marry you,“ you giggled happy with your forehand pressed against his. Hajime smiled like a little boy and kissed you again. Both of you were losing a flew tears and giggling between the kissed.

When the two of you finally let go of each other, he tried putting the ring on your finger, but apparently his mother has very lean fingers and so it didn’t fit.

A couple of weeks later, on Valentine’s Day, you went on a date. Hajime proposed again to you. This time the ring fit and it was in a romantic restaurant. He wanted to make it right this time.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Logical Epilogue

Epilogue to The Logical Progression

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader Rating: Mature Warnings: Cursing; sexual innuendo; Nathan being Nathan Notes: Honestly was kinda stunned that so many people asked for an epilogue 🥺 Sorry it took so long!  Just as a note, the painter mentioned in this piece is entirely fictional Summary: At first, it was exciting.

Berlin worked.

Berlin worked for a while.

You settled into your new position, your new office. Your new boss, Mark’s replacement, was out in California, and the time difference was a little bit of a bitch, but you made it work.

You made it work for a while.

You saw Nathan most weekends, at first. Most, because he got consumed with his work so often, and so did you, sometimes. Truth be told, you couldn’t always take the time out of your schedule to take the two hour flight from Berlin to Oslo, and then the hour long helicopter ride from the airport to the drop zone near the estate, and then the forty five minute hike from the drop zone to Nathan’s house.

At first, you did.

At first, it was exciting. At first you were optimistic, and in love, and brimming with hope because this was a compromise—and sure, it wasn’t something that the two of you had come up with together; it had been your idea, but he had said yes. Yes to your idea, yes to Berlin, yes to your new title – in his company. You had carved out your own place in his company, gotten to where you were by your own merits. You were happy. He was happy.

It worked at first.

After the first few months, though, the bloom was off the rose.

It started with the travel. 

Four hours was a lot one way – and that was four hours if everything was running on time and the weather permitted. It was eight hours all told, round trip. Eight hours every weekend, back and forth, was a bit much. So after a few months, every weekend became every other weekend – and it was still a lot. Of course, any time you mentioned that to Nathan, he was unapologetic at best.

“If you’d just moved in with me like I’d planned, you wouldn’t be tired.”

The first couple of times, you’d laughed. The fifteenth time, it wasn’t so funny anymore. You finally stopped mentioning it to him.

Then, it was the work.

It took you four hours to get to his house. Four. Three flying and an hour of a hike – sometimes through the snow. Silly you, you’d thought the man might stop for more than a kiss and a, “Hey, honey,” when you got there.

At first, the two of you were fucking like rabbits. And then your visits became more infrequent, and even when you were there, Nathan was sometimes too locked in to whatever it was that he was doing to give you the time of day, so much so that you felt like his damn Jackson Pollack: you were around to be looked at occasionally, contemplated, and then left to your own devices.

You’d made the mistake of mentioning that to him, too.

“I’d have more time for you if you were here, honey.”

That had started as a tease, too, but you knew Nathan. Every little joke and jab had a thin layer of saccharine shielding the spike he really wanted to stick you with.

And it stuck.

It didn’t help that your work had felt stagnant since you’d moved. Blue Book was still flourishing; your performance reviews were all positive; the Berlin office was thriving, but… But ever since you moved, you just felt so disconnected.

-- 

“You’re not coming this weekend?”

Nathan’s voice didn’t manage to lose any of its petulance despite how tinny it sounded through your headphones.

“I can’t, we’re going through tissue sessions for the pitch on Monday,” You told him.

“I haven’t seen you in, like, a month.”

“Oh, you noticed that?” There was a pause on Nathan’s end before he dryly asked, “You driving at something, sweetheart?” “Look Nate, I’ve got work to do,” You retorted, “I’ll call you later and try to make it out next weekend, alright?” Nathan let out a scoffed laugh and hung up. No ‘goodbye’, no ‘sure’, no ‘noon will be fine’. Looking back, that should’ve been a warning. With Nathan, there wouldn’t be a goodbye. There would be a drift. The time between your trips to see him became longer and longer, and your countenance in one another’s company became more and more icy, more static. The trips stopped, the calls stopped, and then a box with the things that you left at Nathan’s place showed up at your door. No note, no letter from him, nothing. His Maya console was right at the bottom. He’d finally ripped it out of the fuckin’ wall. Mommy and Daddy had broken up and you got full custody. -- 

The decision to leave Blue Book wasn’t a result of the break up. You’d had other job offers before - Nathan knew that-- No. No, you told yourself to take Nathan out of the equation as you handwrote your resignation letter. Handwrote, because you were still under NDA, and you didn’t want the drafts of this to be caught in one of the regular data audits that Blue Book did. 

You weren’t leaving to join Google, Apple, or IBM, or any of the other companies that had offered you positions with them over the years.  One of the reasons that you had moved up in Blue Book as quickly as you had was your ability to look at a product release and translate the jargon-heavy language into something the average person could understand. You’d done it for a few friends in the tech industry on the side now and again, when they were getting started with their own companies. And as much as you liked Blue Book, you liked the idea of being your own boss more. -- Your last night at Blue Book was no less than a fiasco - you’d been there a long time, so they made an effort, a fuss. They threw a party at a swanky art gallery in Berlin. People had come up to you all evening, asked you what your plans were, if you were excited, what you would miss. You’d told them - you were going to become a freelance writer, focus on technical writing. You already had a number of jobs lined up. You were incredibly excited, but a little nervous. Blue Book had been one big cyber safety net. You’d be alone.

“You hear Bateman was here?” It was a whisper behind you - from one member of the sales team to another, but loud enough for you to hear, loud enough to distract you from the conversation that you’d been in the middle of. There was no way. You hadn’t heard from the man in months - four of them, if you were going to be precise. There was no way he would turn up at your going away party - to do what? Make a fucking splash? All eyes on him? You wondered exactly how much shit you’d get for leaving your own party. You heard the ping of Blue Book’s messaging system on your phone and you pulled it out of your pocket, going cold when you saw the message. N. Bateman: Ferrar room.

No. No, you wouldn’t let him do this. This motherfucker wouldn’t get the chance to just swan back in and sweep you back off of your fucking feet after he was such a shit. -- “So you haven’t plugged Maya in yet.” “...Well between my phone, laptop and the NDA, I’ve kinda already got enough of your spyware in my apartment.”

Nathan chuckled, still wandering around the little back room of the gallery. You’d had to ask an attendant where the Ferrar room even was - but it was full of some of the most vibrant work you’d ever seen. So maybe, for that reason, you’d briefly forgiven Nathan for not even turning to look at you since you’d walked in. And yeah, it had stung, but considering everything that had happened and-- and not happened -- considering the things that the two of you had never said and the fights that you’d never had, and the compromises that he’d never made and every single compromise that you had made, it was no wonder that the man didn’t bother to turn and look at you when there was canvas after canvas after canvas of life in vivid color all around him. “Armel Ferrar,” Nathan said, “French painter, born in Peillon in 1868. Moved to Paris in 1885. Heavily influenced by Seurat and Cézanne -- more Cézanne than Seurat. You can see it in the color use, but… the way he plays with light, that’s all Seurat.” You weren’t looking at the painting that Nathan was looking at. Hell, you weren’t even looking at the paintings. You were just looking at him - at the back of his fucking head. At the back of his fucking head, and the slight tapering that you could see of his beard; at the way his shoulders sloped, and where his hands were tucked into his pockets. Your eyes drifted up his back again, over his neck, his head. The painting he was looking at, whatever painting it was, had bursts of yellow - wheat, maybe, or stars, or the sun, it was difficult for you to tell at that distance. From where you stood, it was as though the man was haloed and framed. Bright and shining and on display, this man that liked to keep to himself and spent his days underground in his office. “Stayed in Paris, too--” He was still talking, of course he was still talking, “Most of his life, or what was left of it. Never married, had one kid outta wedlock… Died in 1891, same year as Seurat. His daughter, Marie-Thérèse, married a military man that moved her to Berlin after the second World War. She brought his paintings with her, that’s how they wound up here.” 

Nathan went quiet for a few moments before, “What do you think?” “...I’m wondering why you had me come back here when you very well could’ve given that TED talk to an empty room. Or better yet to any one of the people out there that are utterly fascinated with you. Either would suit, considering how much you love your own voice.” You had already turned yourself to look at a painting, made yourself distracted by the time you answered, because you’d known that that would get a look from him. You were right, too; you saw him turn to look at you out of your periphery. “Can we skip this part?” That bored tone was back. You dug your nails into the palms of your hands, letting your eyes hone in on the vivid splashes of red on the painting in front of you - petunias. “Which part would that be?” You asked. “The part where you tell me what I did wrong and I pretend that you’re right so that I can say sorry and we can get back to what we were doing.”

You laughed. You actually laughed. Not a fake one, not a haughty one, but a real peal of laughter left you in shock. “Wow,” You sighed once it had passed, “I forgot what a dick you are, you know that? I actually kinda managed to forget.” “Look--” “No,” You turned to face him, holding a hand up to stop whatever he was about to say, “If you came to fake some sincere bullshit, or to tell me that everything would’ve worked if we had done things your way--” “They would’ve--” “Shut the fuck up, Bateman,” You snapped, “You don’t know that, alright? You don’t. I don’t care if you have it in your head that it would’ve all been perfect because you said so.” 

“You really think my way would’ve been worse?” “Well, we’ll never know,” You shrugged, folding your arms over your chest. Nathan was quiet for a single, blessed moment. Then-- “Why are you leaving Blue Book?” “I don’t wanna sound egotistical here, but I kinda refuse to believe that you didn’t read my resignation letter.” “I did.” “Then you know the answer.” “Were those the only reasons?” You looked over his face for a few moments. “... It wasn’t you,” You shook your head, “I don’t know if you wanted it to be, or didn’t, but it wasn’t you.” “Why the fuck would I want it to be?” “Because you think the universe revolves around your beard.” 

He seemed to fight a smile for a moment, and your stomach twisted. You’d seen that look - the way he had to work to pull down the corners of his mouth - in the first video he’d ever sent you, yelling at Maya to remove you as an admin. Maya, which was still sitting in a box in your apartment, because you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of the damn console. You didn’t want to plug it in, but you couldn’t just fucking throw it out. “...So, this new job,” He approached you slowly, and you were careful to hold your ground - not just because backing or turning away felt like weakness, but because stepping backward would mean knocking into the work of a French artist whose life sounded pretty fucking tragic. “Yes?” “You staying in Berlin?” You were quiet for a few moments before you shook your head. “I don’t know. I can do it from anywhere, so I haven’t really decided what my next move is going to be.” “Anywhere?” Nathan repeated. “Whatever you’re thinking, un-think it.” “Can’t unscramble an egg, honey.” “Don’t.” “Don’t what?” “Bateman, I’m serious. You think I’m just gonna crawl back to you?” “Who the fuck is doing the crawling? I’m here!” He snapped. “Oh, look. Nathan did one thing,” You cooed mockingly, “Nathan put on something other than sweatpants and left his estate--” “It’s a four hour trip--” “Oh, you cannot fucking tell me about the travel, Bateman, don’t you dare. I did that for months and you acted like it was nothing, you acted like I was nothing!” 

And then Nathan stopped. Nathan stopped and lowered his chin to his chest for a moment. “You’re not,” He spoke softly - so softly you almost didn’t hear, “You’re not-- You know that. That's your insecurities talking--” “Knowing and feeling are two different things. I’m not a console, I don’t run an OS, I can’t just go in and fix the buggy code that tells me differently,” You had to work to keep your voice steady and get the words out, “What you just did once to get here? I did that for months, Bateman. And that’s after I pulled my whole life up and moved to a new country. That trip, two days a week, every week, and half the time I was there, you acted like I wasn’t. I may as well have not been, so I stopped going.”  “You could’ve talked to me.” “...You know what, I’m not even going near that one, because I really don’t want to yell in here,” You managed through gritted teeth, eyes diverted to another painting. Nathan lifted his head then, looking you over before he stepped forward, muttering, “Stop that.” “What?” “That.” He reached out, taking hold of your hands from where they were crossed under your arms. He ‘tsk’ed softly as he uncrossed your arms and unfolded your hands, running his thumbs over the small half-moon dents that your nails had left in your palms. “... Alright, maybe gatecrashing wasn’t my best idea,” He glanced toward the door to the room before his eyes scanned your face. “I don’t think it even breaks your top five.” “Would you care to list that top five now?” “I would not, at the risk of puffing up your beard.” You heard him chuckle, felt his thumbs continue to smooth over your palms. “...You remember that first Rise of AI, when I told you why I’d pulled you up on stage to give that presentation?” He asked. You frowned, turning to look at him again. He was watching you closely over the top of his glasses, eyes knowing and dark. “You wanted to see what I'd do if you threw me in the deep end.” He nodded. “That was Blue Book, something we both knew. This…” He wrapped his hands around your, gave them a gentle squeeze, “This is new for the both of us. We jumped into the deep end and uh…Starting in the kiddy pool might’ve been better.”  “Did Nathan Bateman just admit defeat?” “No. No,” His gaze went stern, then, “Because kiddy pool or not, you’re still in the fuckin’ water.” You looked down at where his hands were holding yours still. “I want to try again,” Nathan crowded closer to you, “And I know-- I know that I am an asshole and that I fucked up, and you know what, I’m probably going to fuck up again,” He raised one hand to cup your chin, raising your head to meet his eyes, “But I wanna give it another shot. I just… I just need to know if that’s even an option here.” When the box of your things had arrived at your place, you’d told yourself that it wasn’t. You’d told yourself that Nathan was an asshole, and a shitstain, and a dickwad, and a douchecanoe, and a host of other derogatory names that you’d dreamt up in your most frustrated moments. Because, yeah, he could be those things. But that didn’t change the fact that you still had feelings for him. It didn’t change the fact that you’d made mistakes in that relationship, too. “So?” He prompted you as you looked at one another, “How do you think we’d do in the kiddy pool?” You gave him a small smile and murmured, “Swimmingly.” The force of Nathan’s kiss nearly knocked you off of your feet - your head would’ve hit a Ferrar if his hand hadn’t come up to cup the back and cushion it. (The gallery owner saw the two of you and was horrified.) (But Nathan bought that painting and like five others, so they got over it.)

Tag list: @spider-starry​ ; @mylittlelonelyappreciation​ ; @grogu-pascal​ ; @blueeyesatnight​ ; @kid-from-new-zealand​ ; @revolution-starter​ ; @kindablackenedsuperhero

[tundrainafrica]

that moment when you realize levi's last memory of hanji was her laughing - her last laugh. oh and levi would never have a body to bury. Also, I was wondering if you have done an analysis of the solute that levi did - you know keeping his hand over her heart. I personally headcannon that levi meant hanji to give her heart to him, to be his and that's why he kept his fist over her heart. (sorry if it sounds cheesy lmao)

OKAY SO WE’RE ON THE TOPIC OF CH. 132 AGAIN. So imma assume you guys really wanna hurt yourselves more so allow me to drop this really amazing animation of 132 which really captures Hange and Levi’s facial expressions well along with a lot of symbolisms about Hange so please, even if you’re not gonna read the whole meta I have down under. Please watch it. You won’t regret it. It’s beautiful. Here’s the link (The lyrics are good too, so I’d recommend you check the English translation out, the second verse all the way to the chorus, it really fits.)

that moment when you realize levi's last memory of hanji was her laughing - her last laugh. oh and levi would never have a body to bury. 

How are you so sure that Hange’s last memory was her smiling and laughing?

I actually like to entertain the possibility that Hange and Levi made an extremely conscious effort to avoid looking at each other, especially in the eyes. Why is that?

Maybe, the scene in 126 was that much of a profound scene relationship wise that they couldn’t look at each other after that? But I can’t help but think the Levi and Hange’s dynamics were particularly distant in 132? Especially if you compare it to just a few chapters ago where Hange couldn’t even leave him right? Like she was always next to him on his sleeping bag. 

That’s why I really hc-ed that maybe when she was changing his bandages, particularly removing the ones covering his mouth, they had a conversation. And I wrote out my take on it in this fic.

There are just way too many panels about them talking about so many deep things and in all of them they’re looking away from each other.

You can say, towards the last panels, of course he’s not looking at her, he knows she’s going to sacrifice herself, why put her to the pain?

And even the dedicate your heart scene right? He wasn’t looking at her. 

So the point is, do you really think his last memory of her was her smile? 

And was it really her laugh? Personally, when I see people smile, I don’t look at their mouths, I look at their eyes. I’m an eyes person. I think eyes talk more than someone’s mouth. 

And Hange wasn’t smiling at all, look at those eyes.

And do we really count a ‘haha’ as a laugh :’). Do you think Levi... who has seen Hange laugh so many times before, and had seen that same wonder in her eyes before and how she constantly smiles with both her eyes and her mouth, do you think Levi would have counted that as a laugh?

Anyway, I like to headcanon the last clear vivid memory Levi had of her was when she was changing his bandages back in the ship. They were avoiding each othe rtoo much, Levi was really avoiding looking at her this whole chapter and I really suspect there was a deleted scene, a conversation in the ship which changed their whole dynamic in that chapter before Hange chose to sacrifice herself. 

Anyway, moving on to the next question:  

Also, I was wondering if you have done an analysis of the salute that levi did - you know keeping his hand over her heart. I personally headcannon that levi meant hanji to give her heart to him, to be his and that's why he kept his fist over her heart. (sorry if it sounds cheesy lmao)

Omg, that is such a cute headcanon I didn’t think about. Thank you for sharing that <3 I’ll add that to my own personal list of headcanons that I’ll be sharing below. 

Before I move on to sharing it, I just have to say: 

I love the original Japanese translation.

For most western languages, you have to mention the “your” in Dedicate your heart because it just doesn’t flow well to say “dedicate heart” nor would it be consistent with Erwin’s iconic statement being constantly translated to “Dedicate your heart” suddenly being translated to “Dedicate heart” which is wrong grammar anyway. 

With 心臓を捧げよう, we only know there is an unspecified number of hearts which are to be dedicated. 

So Levi’s message could be translated to either “Dedicate your heart.” or even “Let’s dedicate our hearts”

So as a Levihan shipper I could headcanon this in so many ways. 

1. I’ll drop the vanilla one first.  “Dedicate your heart” okay Hange while sacrificing yourself, make sure to dedicate your heart okay, fight to your heart’s content, which is the most conventional interpretation. 

2. The next one is: Let’s dedicate our hearts. This could mean that he feels the war is reaching it’s climax and if she’s ready to die, Levi is willing to join her soon and he will dedicate his heart the same way. Since Japanese tenses in relation to time aren’t specified and future tense doesn’t exist in Japanese, it makes it vague enough to even foreshadow Levi’s own intentions to really dedicate his heart like his own comrades did. And the fact that Levi said see you later Hange? That only supports this headcanon. 

3. Another head canon I have is Levi figuratively left his heart with her with that salute and in that moment, maybe he was talking to himself when he decided to dedicate his heart to her. With that dedication and with Hange’s impending sacrifice, Levi showed his readiness to lose his heart and have it die with her. 

4. This is actually an analysis I read a while back from a Japanese website I’ll leave the link below and it’s definitely one of my favorites for this scene. 

So to summarize the analysis, the Japanese fans see it as a symbolism of unity for Hange and Levi. 

Remember Hange was betrayed by the Jaegerists a few chapters back probably less than a few days ago manga time. Hange is one of the few people who have this idea that what Eren is doing is wrong, the violence, the rumbling. And with Zeke, Flock and Yelena all explicitly disagreeing with her, she was living with this idea that she was doing things wrong especially since only recently a majority of the survey corps actually betrayed her. Yet Hange still continued to hold on to her idea that their ideas are all wrong, there must be a more peaceful way to end all this. Also, remember even do Hange had such an idealistic way on how she wanted it to end, no one explicitly agreed with her. 

Thus, she was lonely. And with that ‘dedicate your heart’ scene, Levi recognizes that loneliness and by saying “let’s dedicate our hearts” he’s telling her he is dedicating his heart to that same cause she is fighting for. And even if no one agrees with it, he agrees with her cause. 

He’s empathizing with it, he’s affirming it and he’s telling her what she’s fighting for isn’t wrong and he wants to clear her of any doubts in her final moments so she can fight till her hearts content. 

And I think that’s beautiful. I got the analysis  here.  

The “dedicate your heart” could mean one of all the things above but it can also mean all the things above at once. I like to hurt myself by thinking, Hange and Levi talk more with gestures than words and maybe Levi meant to say everything up there. 

And maybe with this face Hange gave we can see... 

She might have gotten all five messages before she sacrificed herself. 

Anyway, thanks for reading!

[tinyboxxtink]

“The Man Of Your Dreams”

Y’all. Y’ALL. 

I was gonna make this a series but then I was like “Aw nah I can wrap it up neatly in one go”.

And that “one go” took 3 and 1/2 hours and 10 pages!!!!!!!! (on GoogleDocs anyway...) 

I went with my “keep dreaming about a man and then you go off to find him” idea.

The dating app one might be for a longer series, idk yet.

But this, this is my baby.

Like I said, I had this dream. Specifically the first and last scene. And ya’ll while I wrote the crescendo, I played Tyler Blackburn’s “Can’t Love Me.” Specifically starting at 2:11. I highly recommend playing it as you read from:

“Until out of nowhere--“Y/N???””

But that’s just me. I replayed that scene with the music about a thousand times in my head, I won’t lie to you.

I hope you love this as much as I do!!

Tag List

@wanniiieeee

@dumauier

@word-scribbless

@objection-argumentative

@chasingeverybreakingwave

------

“Oh no it’s happening again.”

“What?! No not now,”

“Yeah I feel it, the pulling,”

“Dammit! No no no…” He grabbed you on both of your sides and pulled you into his chest as tightly as he could, but you knew it wouldn’t help; You were fading, and the last words you hear were:

“I will find you!!” 

----------------

Suddenly, you woke up in your bed in a cold sweat. 

“Dammit...not again,” You shook your head. “No, no no no NO!!!!” You let yourself have a moment of breakdown, before immediately grabbing the pencil and giant pad of paper from under your bed. You had to get it down before it faded, again. The face, HIS face. You furiously filled in the lines on his face you had missed before, and you finally got the dimples on his mouth right. However, it was the eyes that drove you most insane.

Half filled in while the rest of his face was taking shape, his eyes were the one thing you could never quite get. Not that you hadn’t seen them enough, you had been having dreams about this man for over a month straight now. Every night, the same man. But it didn’t feel like dreaming, not in the slightest. It felt very much like being awake in this world, everything was so real.

He was so real.

And so, after a week of these “episodes”, you decided to yourself that this couldn’t be a coincidence, that it was NOT a mix of your subconscious making up scenarios in your head, it was real. This man existed somewhere, and you were going to find him. 

However the question of “How” was still very annoyingly present. Sure you and this man had talked about everything, seriously EVERYTHING. Likes, dislikes, career, life stories--- well, at least you were pretty sure you had.

 Some conversations in your dream world were completely crystal clear in your mind-- 

When he was six and all he wanted was a red bike, and come Christmas morning it wasn’t there. He had stormed around his mom’s apartment having a total temper tantrum until his abuelita asked him to check if she had left her keys out in the hall from last minute shopping. He opened the door to reveal a brand new, shiny red 10 speed bike propped against their doorway.

“We lived on the 10th floor, with no elevator. My mom and abuelita carried that thing up 10 flights of stairs just so I’d have a happy Christmas morning,” He had told you with tears in his eyes.

And then others, containing any real information about where to find him, were a blur. Specific details like his name, his job, even where he currently lived-- they sounded like garbled nonsense when you tried to recall them.

The Universe is a sadistic bastard.

But that conversation about the bike-- it was so specific and so detailed that there was no way your mind could have made it up. No way. But all you knew was that at some point in his childhood he lived with his mom and abuela in a 10th story apartment somewhere in New York City. That’s it. 

And one more thing that you couldn’t shake-- his touch. 

There had been a dream where he had asked to kiss you, to which you happily agreed. He had pulled you close into his arms, his hands ran through your hair as he pressed his lips against yours. And every dream since then, you two were always either holding hands or holding each other, or touching in any capacity-- as if you were both trying to memorize what it felt like.

Of course this still being “a dream”, a lot of the times your “dates” with this man were just playing out themselves, and you were blissfully unaware that they were even dreams. So you’d never think of asking “real” questions like where to meet or something. Only those few moments before you would wake would you realize “Oh that’s right, this isn’t real.” And by then it was too late.

But today was the day. You were sure of it. You had finally finished your drawing of your “dream man”, apart from the filled in eyes. Only an eyeline shaped hole rested in the middle of his perfect face. 

“Okay, that is just horrifying” You heard your roommate’s voice behind you.

“What? It’s perfect, Shi!” You defended your drawing. 

Sure you had hesitated telling your best friend of 10 years about your “situation”, but once you decided that you were going to find him, you knew you’d need her help. And so, after a very long conversation over a LOT of drinks, you had convinced her to help you. Well, reluctantly help you. 

“Well it’ll be no problem trying to find a guy with NO EYES,” She giggled.

“Shut up, I just...I can’t get them right,” 

“Can’t get them right? Girl have you or have you not told me that you have studied that man’s face EVERY night for the past 6 weeks?” 

“Yeah but….they’re so...perfect,” You sighed-- the gaping eye hole was mocking you. It was like the Universe saying “Good luck finding him without THESE!!!!” 

But you knew, you just knew in your heart of hearts that if you saw his eyes in real life, you’d know. You’d know instantly. You had this-- look, between you. The way he looked at you, the love and passion in his beautiful green eyes.

You couldn’t draw that on paper.

“Well just how do you expect us to make a “missed connection” flier with a demon looking guy like that?” 

“Look Shiloh, it’s a start ok?” 

“It’s not! You need those eyes, eyes are the most distinguishing trait on a person’s face!” She shook the paper at you.

“I know that!!!” you scoffed.

“Alright well...just, try again tonight yeah?” She put a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah alright,”

----

The next night you did all the nightly rituals you had read and researched up on how to “lucid dream”. Eating certain foods, meditating before bed, repeating mantras as you fell asleep-- sometimes they helped you take control of the dreams, sometimes not.

But this has never happened.

-----------

You were suddenly “awake”, in a park. Wait, this wasn’t just some generic “Dream” park. You knew this park. You immediately started scanning the sights around you-- kids playing and running around, people talking on a fountain-- The fountain. You knew that fountain. Your eyes darted quicker around the scenic picture for a statute, and there it was.

This was Central Park. And not just Central Park, a very specific part of Central Park that you passed most days on your way to work. Could this just be the “coincidence” normal dream stuff seeping in? Just images of your day being played out in your REM cycle? I mean he wasn’t even--

“Dream girl,” His voice came from behind you. 

You spun to face the fountain and saw him in an off white cream colored suit, with a pink tie. His hair was in a coif, and for the first time maybe ever, you noticed him carrying a briefcase. 

“Hey you,” You smiled, pulling him into a long, deep kiss. 

“So, Central Park today huh? You know you could’ve told me that beforehand I wouldn’t have paid an Uber to drive --- blocks.” You noticed the blurb in his number. Wait, wait this wasn’t happening.

“Wait, what?” You were suddenly “awake” .

“My office? It’s just about ---- blocks that way,” He pointed forward-- South. 

His office was south from Central Park, only a few blocks away. Within walking distance.

“What else?” You grabbed him.

“What else? Baby are you ok…?” He backed up one step in concern.

“Dammit, snap out of it abogado!!!” You snapped at him, leaving you both in shock-- but for two different reasons. 

He was suddenly “awake” in this world too, but you had just called him a name in spanish that you did not know the meaning of.

“Since when do you know spanish?” He asked.

“It’s spanish? QUICK tell me what it means!!!” You shook him.

“Abogado means--” 

-----------

And he was gone. It was gone. You had been pulled suddenly from your dream world, something that had never happened before. It wasn’t even morning yet, the sun was barely peeking out from the skyline. You had never gotten that close to getting details from him, NEVER.

Maybe the Universe was catching on. 

You grabbed your phone from the charger beside you and furiously typed “Abogado” into google translate. And there it was, in black and white:

Lawyer.

This guy was a lawyer, who worked a few blocks south of Central Park. If he was real. You sighed to yourself as you put your phone down and went back to sleep.

-----------------------------

And you were in the park again. 

“Hey, there you are! Where’d you go?” the “abogado” asked you with his dreamy smile. Wait, was he “asleep” again? And why did you pick up here? He knew you were gone? WAS THIS PLACE REAL?

“ABOGADO,” You shouted at him like a crazy person.

“...You don’t know spanish, why do you know-- Oh my god,” The man was suddenly cognizant of everything.

“Baby! Aw, baby girl I’ve missed you..” He pulled you into a kiss. You let him for a second, then pulled away quickly.

“Look, I don’t know what’s happening but this--” You gestured around the park. “This is near where I live. In reality,” 

His eyes widened as he recognized where you were. “This is a few blocks from my office-- in reality,” 

“Really? Really.” You were becoming frantic.

“I mean, if this is at all real, and you’re real--” He began looking around the park.

“I’M real, are YOU real?” You couldn’t believe he was questioning YOUR existence.

“I think the fact that we’re both questioning each other’s existence, might be either brain death or some kind of reality where we both do indeed exist,” He smirked.

“God you’re smart, why did I not know this before?”

“...I don’t know, we don’t really get into details usually, do we?” 

“No but now-- oh my god, NOW,” You grabbed him again excitedly.

“Now what? Oh, I love that guy’s suit…” He peered over your shoulder.

“Rafael will you FOCUS?” You both stopped and stared at each other as soon as the name left your lips.

“...I-I’m sorry, what?” He was turning pale

“Rafael...w-why did I just call you Rafael?”

“....Rafael’s my name,” He stared at you in disbelief. He actually looked shocked that you knew his name. 

“Y/N,” He finally spoke.

“Y/N is my name!!!!” You squealed. “This is happening, this is happening Rafael!!!!” You grabbed him in a hug but he still stood there in a daze.

“Oh god are you fading?” 

“N-No, I just...you have a name,” 

“...I..yeah?” You scrunch your nose. “Did...do...do you not think I’m real?” 

“No!” He shook his head. “I mean I do think you’re real, I just...this...this hasn’t happened before,” He stroked your cheek with his thumb, staring at it while he did it. Like he was memorizing the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I know, this is the most detailed “episode” we’ve ever had,” You pressed his hand harder against your cheek, memorizing the feeling of his hands over yours. 

“Tomorrow,” He stopped stroking your face and looked at you very seriously. 

“What?” 

“I-I feel it, I’m waking up-- damn early court time,” He grumbled. “But tomorrow-- er, today,” He grabbed both of your hands and squeezed them as hard as he could.

“If we are both real, we’ll meet here at this exact spot at 3:30 today, yeah?” You could see his body slowly disintegrating in front of you like Peter Parker at the end of Infinity War.

All you could do was nod as you felt yourself waking up, but you gave everything you had to grab him in one last kiss….

-------------

BEEP BEEP BEEEP!!!!!!

Your alarm was yelling at you, but you were already wide awake. Today was the day. Today at 3:30, in Central Park, you were going to meet your dream man.

If he was real. 

-------

The minutes passed by like hours, he would pick the day you have off so you could just sit there and stare at your phone obsessively all day. Of course after you had taken at least 2 hours to make sure you looked absolutely perfect for your man. 

You wanted to look like his dream girl. 

Finally, it was 3:20. Shiloh had come home early to walk with you to the park, there was no way she was missing this. You wanted enough time to make sure you’d be there exactly at 3:30, not a minute after. You held hands with Shi as you entered the park’s gates and just a few yards away was the fountain area you had been in last night. 

“So...this is it,” Shiloh dropped your hands.

“I know....What time is it?” You shuddered with excitement.

“3:29-- you know maybe he’s not a stickler for time like you and needs to be obsessively early everywhere babe,” 

“He’s a lawyer, they’re usually pretty punctual,” You raised an eyebrow. “Plus, if he’s as excited as I am he will be here on time,” You were bouncing on your heels like a little girl.

“Well, it’s 3:30 now…” You both began to look around the area. You had brought the drawing so Shiloh had an idea of who she was looking for, although she still deemed it impossible without his eyes.

“Y’know he said he had court today, maybe it’s further away from here,” You spoke out loud, still scanning every inch of the park. You didn’t know who you were trying to convince more, Shiloh or yourself.

Every second that passed by, your heart broke into teenier tinier pieces. You felt sick to your stomach, you were shaking-- you needed to sit. 

Shiloh came and joined you on the side of the fountain and held you in her arms as the park suddenly began filling very quickly. There was some sort of event happening soon, and people were getting “good seats”.

“Wh-What? No, no you guys can’t be here!” You frantically began circling people. “How is he supposed to find me if you’re all surrounding this damn fountain? HOW?!”

“Y/N….Honey, chill…” Shiloh tried to pull you away, but you jumped onto the fountain to get away from her as the area continued to fill with people, even police began to survey the area-- they stared at you, whispering things into their walkies. They were going to ask you to get down. They were going to ask you to leave. They were going to make you lose your chance forever--- and you couldn’t have that.

“RAFAEL!!!!!!” You started screaming into the crowd. Several members of the crowd began turning and staring at you as you repeated the name over and over again, walking around on top of the fountain as you did. 

“Are you nuts you’re going to get us arrested!!”  Shiloh hissed, pulling on your arm.

“I don’t care--- RAFAEL!!!!!” You knocked her hand away and started screaming again.

“Ma’am, you’re going to need to come with us,” A Park Ranger started for your hand but you evaded it as you continued circling and screaming like an insane person.

“NO!!! I CAN’T!!!!! HE’LL BE HERE!!!! RAFAEL!!!!!!”

-------

“I mean, are you SURE it was this end of the park, Rafa?” Olivia Benson circled the same spot her and Rafael had been walking around for several minutes now. 

“Yeah, I’m sure! There was a statue--”

“There are a LOT of statues in here, Rafa. Did you see anything else in this ‘dream’?” 

“Look Liv, I appreciate you coming with me even though you don’t believe in this at all, but the snarkiness is not helping,” He folded his arms with a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I’ll--” Olivia was cut off mid-sentence by her walkie going off. “Benson.”

“Yeah hi, this is the CP patrol-- We heard you were around here, and I think we’ve got a-- what do you call it, special victim? This girl’s running around crazy yelling for some dude, I think she might be a few circuits short of a circuit board,” 

“Where are you?”

“The South Entrance by Lootney Fountain,” As those words rang out through her walkie, Rafael’s eyes widened. 

“The fountain…” He muttered, beginning to sprint across the park. “I forgot about the fountain!!!!!!”

-------

The CP Patrol had gotten you off the fountain and were trying to calm you down, but you wouldn’t stop yelling Rafael’s name. Until out of nowhere--

“Y/N???”

You’d know that voice anywhere. You jumped out of the cop’s reach and back onto the fountain where you could see over the crowd. Your eyes frantically searched when you saw a man running towards the fountain; from across the park, and then you saw his face.

It was Rafael.

The second you locked eyes, you both just stopped moving entirely. You were pretty sure you had stopped breathing. You could see everything in those big beautiful green eyes you had the hardest time putting down on paper. You saw the same thoughts running through his head as yours:

He was real. You were real.

“Y/N!!!!!!” He finally yelled, making the crowd turn to face him. He disappeared into the sea of people as you jumped down and began tearing through them like mad. 

“RAFAEL!!!!” You screamed, knocking people over left and right. He was sprinting across the lawn, more desperate to get to you than anything in his entire life.

“Y/N!!!!!!” You heard his voice again, and this time it was so much closer. So crisp and clear, just like it was in your dreams-- But this was real. It was really happening. You gave one last push through a group of stragglers to come upon a man huffing and puffing in a cream colored suit, with a pink tie. But he seemed to lose all signs of fatigue as you hurled yourself into his arms-- his real, open arms. He spun you around and kissed you deeper and harder than he ever had in any of your encounters. 

And it was real.

You felt it even more than the most detailed of dreams, his taste, the feel of his touch, his smell. You stood there locked in a kiss for several seconds, while Olivia waved off the coppers and Shiloh had broken through the crowd to see your very real dream man.

Finally, after convincing yourself to pull away from him, you looked into his eyes. His real, green eyes. You stroked his cheek while he kept the tightest grip around your waist, as if you were going to float away if he let up one second. 

“You’re real,” You blinked back tears.

“So are you,” He held back his own tears, stroking yours away from your cheeks. 

“I love you, Rafael,” You whispered, still scared to death you’d wake up at any moment.

“I love you, YN-- my dream girl,” He smiled back, pulling you into another long kiss.

That night you had normal dreams, which you didn’t mind in the slightest; because you slept in the arms of the man of your dreams.