#Maui Late Night

[elijones94]

🌺🌸 Moana and…Pua’s cousin?! 🐗🌴🌊

[sole-di-fragola]

Super Late but Wish redesigns and rewrite

Update: I changed Mizar’s design a little bit

I tried to recreate the 90s Disney art style in this drawing since I imagine the rewrite as a 2D movie

(Click image for better quality)

There’s some details about my rewrite (copypasted for the Notes App and modified a little bit)

Asha is the daughter of the deceased king Tomas and the royal seamstress Sakina

Rosas used to be allied with a kingdom in the sky called Al-Jady and both battled the black hole monsters who attacked their kingdom

Both kingdoms had a good relationship during the years, but when Magnifico came, Al-Jady decided to cut ties with them

Her dad Tomas and Magnifico are brothers. Tomas was wise and loyal and was a philosopher and astronomer, while Magnifico is ambitious and power-hungry and is a sorcerer. Tomas was chosen to be the heir to the throne

Magnifico’s real name is Marion

Magnifico, jealous kill Tomas.

Then he lies to Asha that her dad was killed by thieves from another kingdom, and then she is banished with her mom and grunkle

They now live in a Hamlet, in which Sakina is the matriarch

She works undercover by the name of Layla. Layla means night in Arabic and is a pretty common name, and Asha is a rare name. (Referring to Aurora’s Briar Rose and Mulan’s Ping)

Asha is a quiet, reserved and studious. But also she is snarky and quick tempered

She likes to draw, animate and learn about astronomy. Her drawing skills are shown more often than in the original movie

Layla (undercover Asha) works at the palace as the royal librarian and reads stories to children

Although Asha considers some stories, as fantasy and childish stories, including the origin of the kingdom of Rosas she likes to practice magic (probably she thinks she is more mature or realizes that these stories may be fake, idk)

Her friends live in other hamlets outside the kingdom

Her Mom and Sabino still exist

Sabino plays the guitarra morisca (or Mandora) as his instrument (to make it historically accurate)

Sabino is Asha’s grunkle

The Star being a shape shifter (like the concept art) and his name is Mizar. His appearance is like a moth creature, when he turns into a human he looks more like an Afro-Arab teenager, chubby and shorter than Asha (I make him different than the average Disney Prince)

He has a companion named Najm, he is inspired by Tinkerbell and only Mizar can understand him

Also the main couple both having sidekick has been seen in many Disney movies (ex: Ariel and Eric, Jasmine and Aladdin)

Najm was a gift from Mizar’s parents to him in his 18 birthday

Mizar can fly and transform into various living things

Mizar likes music and he can play the flute (inspired by @a-storytellers-wish’ s version of Star)

He also likes to study about The Mainland and it’s inhabitants (Yep, I called it like how the fairies in Tinkerbell called the human realm)

Najm can make animals talk and give cosmic dust to make a person fly

His inspirations includes Genie, Peter Pan and Maui

Mizar has the same powers as Merlin (shapeshift,make objects move and see the future)

Magnifico and Amaya are an evil couple (like the concept art) with a pet lynx named Lola and a daughter called Celeste

Celeste is Asha’s cousin, she is 25. She acts like a big sister for Asha

If you are a writer and you had you own rewrite, please I need your help, I’m not good at writing

Sort of spoilers of the rewrite but I will put it anyways

Magnifico summoning the blackhole monsters who are jailed and attack Al-Jady (referring to Hades summoning the Titans to attack the Olympus in Hercules)

Magnifico dies pulled by the Black Hole monsters like Dr Facilier (also referencing Kira’s death in JoJos since both have the same voice actor in Latin Spanish)

I might make a separate post about the designs, but idk yet.

(I don’t like to randomly tag users, but they inspired me to do my own rewrite, although I found the movie decent but it still has flaws and was a nothingburger movie for celebrating the 100th anniversary of one of the most historical and important studio in the animation industry. If I said my unpopular opinions about the movie, some people would probably burn me in a stake)

@rylxdreams @your-ne1ghbor @annymation @uva124 @rascalentertainments @erijuice @cerulean-crow @signed-sapphire @mythartist21 @strawbxerri (I know the last one is not in the “fandom” anymore but “Asha being a refugee monarch like Simba” is kinda similar to their rewrite and it was just a coincidence. The idea just came when I was brainstorming the AU with a mutual of mine on Twitter)

[songbirdsanctuary]

Through the Cracks

Warnings: Panic attack, minor injury's

Word count: 2,133

Grian lay curled up on the cold, stone floor of his base, shivering despite the warmth of his scarlet jumper. His breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, remnants of the panic attack that had torn through him only moments ago. They’d been happening more often lately, creeping up on him like a shadow he couldn’t escape. The weight of it sat heavily on his chest, but it was fine. He was fine. That’s what he kept telling himself, over and over, as if repetition would somehow make it true.

So what if the nightmares came almost every night now, vivid and inescapable? He’d wake up drenched in sweat, his heart hammering like it was trying to break free from his chest. But he always shook it off, forcing himself to believe that it didn’t matter. It was just his mind playing tricks on him. It was fine.

Why should he care if the panic attacks left him feeling drained and raw, like his nerves were exposed to the open air? He told himself they didn’t matter, that they would pass like they always did. He was used to this, used to the sudden terror that made it feel like the walls were closing in, used to the way his skin crawled with the phantom sensation of hands touching him where they never should have been.

That feeling never went away, no matter how many times he tried to shake it off. It lingered like a ghost, a constant reminder of a violation he couldn’t forget. But that was just his life now. He’d learned to live with it, to bury it deep enough that no one could see. He was used to it. It was fine.

He barely noticed the broken mug beneath him until he shifted slightly, and the sharp shards dug into his skin through his jumper. It should have hurt, but it didn’t. Or maybe he was just too numb to feel it. The warmth of his own blood seeped into the fabric, staining the red a darker shade, but he didn’t care. Not about the pain, not about the mess, not about anything.

All he could do was curl up tighter, trying to make himself as small as possible, as if disappearing might make everything stop. But the panic still lingered, just beneath the surface, waiting for its next chance to pull him under.

He couldn’t really hear anything. The world was muffled, distant, like he was underwater. He didn’t hear his cat, Maui, meow softly and sniff curiously at his side. He didn’t hear the gentle padding of paws retreating in concern. He didn’t even hear the creak of the door as it opened or the sound of approaching footsteps, each one growing louder, more insistent. All of that faded into the background, swallowed by the chaos in his mind.

But the voice cut through the fog.

"Grian!?"

The sudden loudness made his head throb, piercing through the haze like a bolt of lightning. The sound was sharp, too sharp, and his body flinched involuntarily. His ears rang from the volume, and before he could process anything, a hand pressed down on his shoulder.

The touch wasn’t harsh, but to Grian, it felt like fire. His eyes flew open, wide and wild with fear. He couldn’t breathe, his mind went blank. He had haphephobia—the fear of being touched. It wasn’t always debilitating, at least not when he had time to prepare himself. If he knew someone was going to touch him, he could brace for it, let the anxiety roll over him and fade. But the unexpected touch—it was unbearable. It sent his entire nervous system into overdrive.

A scream ripped out of his throat before he even realized he was making a sound, his hands clawing at the floor as he scrambled backward, trying to get away from the touch, away from the sensation burning through him.

“Grian?” The voice was softer now, but still there. “Hey, it’s okay...”

He barely registered the words before he felt arms wrap around him, pulling him into a hug. They were trying to help, trying to ground him, but it only made things worse. Panic flooded him like a tidal wave, crashing down with suffocating force.

“STOP!! PLEASE, DON’T TOUCH ME!”

The hands let go instantly, and he collapsed to the floor, curling into himself, shaking uncontrollably. His mind was a whirlwind of terror and confusion, every nerve on high alert, screaming for safety, for space. He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could, trying to block out everything, willing the world to disappear.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, curled up and trembling, but slowly, painfully, the panic began to ebb. His breathing, once ragged and shallow, steadied into something more even, though his body still shook with leftover tremors. His muscles ached from the tension. His skin felt too tight, raw and exposed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he opened his tear-soaked eyes. The world came back into focus in blurry fragments. The floor, the scattered shards of the broken mug, and then, just beside him, crouched low and looking terrified, was Gem. She didn’t speak, but the worry and fear in her wide eyes said enough.

“Grian? Are you okay?” Gem asked gently, her voice soft and tentative, almost like she was afraid of scaring him further. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t know touching you would cause that…”

For a moment, Grian said nothing. His heart was still racing, his mind still clouded with the echoes of panic. Slowly, he forced himself to rise to his feet, though his legs felt like jelly beneath him. Every movement felt heavy, like he was wading through thick fog.

“Grian?” Gem asked again, concern lacing her voice as she stood up beside him.

“I’m f-fine,” Grian mumbled, his voice hoarse and strained from the screaming. He tried to make it sound convincing, but the quiver in his words betrayed him. He wasn’t fine, not even close, but he had to be. He had to tell himself that he was. It was fine. Everything was fine.

The past didn’t hurt anymore. It couldn’t. What did she even have to be worried about? It was just a little panic attack. It wasn’t as if the memories still had claws in him. He was over it—he had to be. He didn’t need to drag her into that darkness, didn’t need to burden her with the weight of his past. She didn’t even know about it, so why complicate things?

“You aren’t fine…” Gem’s voice was soft, almost pleading, as she bent down and began picking up the larger pieces of the broken mug, carefully dropping them into the trash bin. “Please, talk to me.”

Grian’s throat tightened, an irritated hiss escaping before he could stop it. “It’s fine!” The words came out sharper than he intended, stinging his throat just like the cuts on his skin stung with every small movement. He clenched his fists, the shards of glass still littering the floor seeming to mock his fragile composure.

Gem frowned, clearly unconvinced. Her eyes drifted to the blood staining his jumper and the torn fabric where the glass had cut through. “Let me at least clean those cuts…”

Grian instinctively drew his wings closer to his body, folding them protectively around himself as if they could shield him from the world. His feathers quivered slightly, still on edge. The thought of anyone’s hands on him, even for something as innocent as cleaning his wounds, made his stomach churn with nausea. His skin crawled just imagining it, like tiny invisible needles pricking at him.

“I can do it myself,” he insisted, his voice tight and defensive. His wings bristled with tension, and his eyes flickered with a hint of panic. Even though he knew she meant well, the idea of letting someone touch him again, even to help, made him want to bolt from the room, to put as much distance between himself and anyone else as possible.

Gem paused, her expression a mixture of hurt and worry. She wanted to help—he could see that—but she also respected his boundaries. With a small sigh, she nodded, stepping back to give him space.

“Okay,” she whispered. “But if you need anything… I’m here.”

Grian didn’t respond, too lost in his own mind. His cuts stung fiercely, but that pain was easier to deal with than the roiling anxiety inside him. He kept his wings tightly folded, trying to convince himself that he didn’t need help, that he was fine—just like he always told himself. But deep down, even as he tried to convince himself otherwise, a small part of him wondered if he’d ever be fine again.

Gem had left, and Grian sat quietly in the dim light of his base, carefully cleaning his wounds. The antiseptic stung, but it was a manageable pain—something he could control. He wrapped the cuts with a piece of clean cloth, his hands trembling slightly, though whether from exhaustion or lingering anxiety, he couldn’t tell. He let out a shaky breath, trying to calm himself down. He didn’t need help. He didn’t.

But as the silence settled around him, the guilt crept in. He felt bad for pushing Gem away. She had only wanted to help, and instead of accepting it, he’d snapped at her. But he didn’t need her help. He didn’t need anyone’s help, right? He could handle it all himself, just like he always did—

The door creaked open again, pulling Grian from his thoughts. He looked up just as Gem stepped in, this time with Mumbo by her side. His heart gave a small lurch at the sight of him.

“Grian?” Mumbo’s voice was soft, filled with gentle concern, as he stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

Grian’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t move, but his eyes tracked Mumbo’s every step, his body tensing slightly out of reflex. Then he saw Mumbo’s hand reach out, not too fast, not too forcefully, just a quiet offer of comfort. Grian felt the tightness in his chest loosen just a fraction, and with a small, almost imperceptible nod, he gave Mumbo permission to touch him.

Mumbo moved carefully, pulling Grian into a soft embrace, his arms wrapping around him in a way that was firm enough to offer comfort but never too tight, never suffocating. It was gentle, safe. Grian relaxed into it, his body melting against Mumbo’s warmth as if he could hide from the world for just a moment.

And then the floodgates broke.

The tears came slowly at first, warm and wet against Mumbo’s neck, but before long, Grian was crying in earnest. His sobs were muffled by the fabric of Mumbo’s shirt, his body trembling with each ragged breath. He pressed his face deeper into the crook of Mumbo’s neck, clutching at him as though letting go might shatter him completely. Mumbo’s arms tightened around him, still gentle but unwavering, grounding him in the present, offering a steadying force against the storm of emotion that had overtaken him.

Mumbo was one of the few people Grian had confided in about his past, about the things that still haunted him late at night. And when it weighed too heavily on him, Mumbo was always the first to come to his side, to offer comfort without needing to ask. The silent understanding between them meant everything in moments like this.

Grian had forgotten Gem was still there, standing quietly off to the side, her presence neither intrusive nor impatient. She watched, her expression soft with empathy, but she didn’t speak. This moment wasn’t for her. It was for Grian and Mumbo. She understood that.

And as Grian sobbed uncontrollably into Mumbo’s shoulder, all the sleepless nights, the panic attacks, the constant fear, and the memories he couldn’t shake came crashing down on him at once. The weight of everything pressed into him, suffocating, drowning him in a sea of overwhelming emotions. But in Mumbo’s arms, he let it all out—finally allowed himself to fall apart, knowing that he wouldn’t be judged for it.

Mumbo held him through it all, whispering quiet reassurances, his hand gently rubbing soothing circles on Grian’s back. The room was filled with the sound of Grian’s sobs, the heavy, ragged breathing as he let everything he’d been bottling up spill out in front of the only person he trusted enough to see him like this.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Grian allowed himself to feel vulnerable, to stop pretending he was fine when he wasn’t. The weight was still there, but it was shared now, held up by someone who cared enough to carry it with him.

[fallen-gravity]

we're wasting time (pretending we're strong)

"Well...what are we gonna do?" Moana tilts her head at Maui when he meets her gaze. "Two of the most powerful demigods in all the seas..." she pauses, and pouts dramatically in an attempt to lighten the mood. "...and here we are, both struggling with nightmares."

Notes:

So, fun fact! In the novelization, Maui regains consciousness a bit earlier than he does in the movie. When he dives under the water to help/stop Moana, he actually witnesses the whole process of her reaching the surface of Motufetū, gently placing a hand on it, and then brutally dying to a lightning strike to her spine. There's a whole fun descriptive about him crying out to her as he swims desperately to catch her :')

Another fun fact! At some point before Maui gets struck by lightning, Moana tries to protect him by blowing into her conch shell to taunt the storm to come and attack her instead. They're so protective of each other it drives me up the wall ;~;

(Reblogs are encouraged and appreciated, but if you tag as a ship I'm blocking you and eating your kneecaps)

AO3

As brave and fearless as Moana’s people and the stories they tell of her claim her to be, she is still no stranger to nightmares.

She’s very familiar with the heartache and the intense anxiety that leaves her breathless as she shoots awake in the middle of the night, terrified by things that are not and never were there at all. 

They’re not frequent, per say, but the intensity of which they occur are always enough to leave her trembling.

Tonight, she fears, in her last few moments of consciousness, is no different.

This time, she stands alone on a canoe, clinging desperately to the mast as a powerful storm rages around her. Each roll of thunder is louder than the previous, and each ocean wave that the storm sends barreling towards her comes closer and closer to capsizing her and sending her under the waves. She realizes, far too late, that the canoe she stands upon is much too small to handle these kinds of waves, and when she finds a moment of balance to look towards the sail, her heart catches in her throat.

Its sail is emblazoned with the spiral of Te Fiti. 

But that’s impossible, because she never takes this canoe out on such long or dangerous journeys for the sake of nostalgia, of longing to preserve what it means to her for as long as she can. 

She doesn’t like taking this canoe out all on her own, because it sends waves of loneliness through her, a painful reminder of the three years she’s gone without seeing- 

A huge bolt of lightning streaks across the sky, interrupting her train of thought and alerting her to the sound of…bird wings? She looks to the sky, and a strained gasp escapes her.

There’s Maui, making rapid flashes back and forth between his hawk form and his regular demigod form. He’s grasping desperately to the rope attached to his hook, trying his hardest to pull something out of the water, but no matter how hard he tries, whatever it is isn’t budging. Even from the deck of the canoe Moana can tell that he’s distracted, because he keeps casting glances downward at something else in the water. Frowning, she tries to follow his gaze, and an uneasy chill runs down her spine when she realizes he keeps staring at the sail of her canoe. 

He’s still trying to pull Motufetū out of the water for her. 

“Maui!” she shouts upward to him, the fear in her chest causing her voice to shake. “Come back! It’s too dangerous! We can regroup!”

He somehow finds the time to shake his head in protest. “I can’t!” he shouts back, his voice straining with the effort. “I’ve got it!” he tries, clearly trying to assure her. “I have to,” he adds, eyes fixed on the symbol of her canoe’s sail. “I promised.”

She shakes her head, and unsticks herself from the mast as she grabs for the oar. “At least let me-”

Another bolt of lightning strikes, this time at the water in the space between her canoe and where Maui hovers.  Okay, okay, so she’s gonna need to find a much subtler way to help. Maui, also having seen, growls towards the sky the same way he’d taught her years before in Lalotai, and there’s another rapid succession of transformations as he continues on, ignoring Nalo’s warning.

Before Moana has any time to redirect her attention to coming up with a plan to help, the wind picks up noisily, as if it were screaming curses at the both of them, and a startled yelp escapes her as the next bolt of lightning hits the mast of her canoe. She barely has enough time to make sure it hasn’t caught fire from the impact (it hasn’t, thank the gods,) before Maui shouts even louder over the storm.

“I thought I told you to leave her out of it!” he screams upward, as if he’s trying to talk to Nalo directly. Maui shakes his head violently, and doubles down on his efforts. He’s transforming so rapidly that Moana has to squint to see through all of the flashing, and for a brief moment it looks as if he really is going to pull the island out of the water.

But then there’s the undeniable sound of screeching, and this time the lightning slams into Maui directly. Moana tries to scream out, but no sound leaves her mouth. It’s not long before the powerful winds of the storms sends the scent of burning hair and flesh in her direction, and she chokes back a gag as she throws caution to the wind and dives for her oar to direct the canoe to be able to catch him in case he falls.

“Stay back, Moana!” he manages to wheeze through his efforts to recover, and it makes her chest ache just how much the fear in his voice sounds directed towards her safety, rather than his own. 

It breaks her heart, but she knows neither of them can afford any distractions, so she backs away from the oar and clasps at her necklace as she nods a silent promise to him. He nods back, the tiniest hints of gratitude on his face, before he’s right back to his island-raising efforts. 

Nalo, angry at his failed attempt to knock Maui down, strikes him again, harder this time, and Moana feels sick to her stomach at the way Maui falters. It takes everything in her not to do anything to help, her knuckles turning white as she grips at her skirt in an attempt to stop herself from diving straight into the water after Motufetū to end all of this trouble herself. She can do nothing but watch, and that scares her more than anything. 

The lightning stops flashing, and all at once she wants to retract that train of thought.

She locks eyes with Maui, by chance, and it’s actually the devastated, hopeless look in his eyes that scares her more than anything. He tries to hide it behind a lopsided smile, but it helps nothing when it’s accompanied by the fact that he mouths the words I’m sorry as he finally gives up on fighting. He lets go of the rope, his hook sinking to the ocean floor alongside Motufetū, and before he even has the chance to drop into the water, Nalo strikes one last time, harder and faster than all the other times put together.

“Maui!” Moana shrieks, her voice raw and cracking with emotion. She rushes forward to dive into the water after him as he falls, but something grabs her foot and slams her into the deck of her canoe, stopping her. She kicks and thrashes, in case it’s a monster that Nalo sent after her, but her heart breaks in her chest when she turns her head and sees it’s the ocean refusing to let her go.

“No!” she cries, and no matter how hard she attempts to kick her way out of the ocean’s grip, it refuses to let go. “Let me go! I need to help him!”

Nothing. No response at all.

High above her, he falls, limp and unmoving.

“Maui!” she screams again, and squeezes her eyes shut, not sure she’ll ever be prepared for the harsh sound of him hitting the water.

She waits, and she waits, but the sound never comes. 

When Moana opens her eyes again, she’s staring upwards at the ceiling of her fale. The gentle chirp of crickets and the moonlight poking through her window are her clues that it’s still the middle of the night. She sits up, taking a deep breath to try and calm the shake in her shoulders, and her eyes fall to the oar tucked into the corner by the doorway.

She sighs.

It’s not the first time she’s had a nightmare about Maui.

Three years ago, she dreamt of Te Kā. She dreamt of discovering the spiral on her chest too late, of Maui giving all he had to spare her some time, and her losing everything as a result. She dreamt of Lalotai, of Tamatoa seeing right through her tricks. He’d crushed the algae-covered pebble in his pincers, and decided that the best punishment for keeping Te Fiti’s heart away from him was to kill Maui first, just to make her watch. Something about making her suffer before taking her life, just for the dramatics of it all. 

She dreamt of drowning. Of diving into the water to save something, someone, and not being able to reach out and help them no matter how hard or how far she kicked.

Those times, she’d only assumed it was because she was missing him.

Those times, she could find comfort in knowing there was no truth to them.

Moana shivers as she stands to her feet, and grabs her oar on her way out the door. She’s not really planning on going anywhere where she’d need it, but the feeling of the carved wood in her callused hands always brings her comfort. She drags it along the sand as she heads to the beach, and gently places it beside her as she sits down.

The ocean’s always been there for her. It’s always been there to listen, even if she knows it can’t respond. The sound of its gentle waves always brought her solace in ways the company of others could not. The ocean could not judge, or try to sway her emotions one way or another. It’s her first and longest friend, always there, even when others she cares for cannot be there.

As if it were hearing her thoughts, it pokes its head out of the water and gently wraps itself around her ankle, as if it were attempting to hug her.

“Thanks,” she smiles, wiping at her eyes with her wrist. She hadn’t even realized that she was crying.

It’s embarrassing, really. She knows she’s got nothing to worry about! Maui’s all all-powerful demigod. The last thing he needs is someone like her worrying about him all the time. He’s strong and resourceful and he’s probably gone through much worse than one lightning storm and came out stronger than ever. He’s challenged gods before and she knows that he’ll probably challenge dozens more in the future. 

He doesn’t need someone like her. He can take care of himself.

And yet…

She closes her eyes, and flinches when the images from her nightmare come rushing back to her.

…She wants to protect him. She wants to do everything she can to keep him safe.

How ridiculous is she?

The sound of approaching footsteps snaps her from her thoughts. She recognizes the source of them without even turning her head. The ocean, seemingly recognizing them as well, slowly retracts itself back into the sea to give them space.

She smiles. “You know, for a demigod who stole fire from the underworld,” she teases him with an embellishment she only could’ve picked up from him, “you’re pretty awful at sneaking around.”

Maui laughs as he sits down beside her. “So are you, Curly” he teases back easily. “I could see you bounding down to the water from halfway across the island. Don’t you think it’s a little late to take off exploring?” he says, and then flashes her with a fake pout so sad and blubbery that it nearly rivals Simea’s. “…without me?”

Moana bites down on a laugh that would surely wake up half the village, and slugs him on the shoulder.

Ever since everything that went down at Motufetū, he’s become a comfortable regular in her everyday life. She’d been prepared to say goodbye again once she and her crew were ready to sail back home to Motunui, but he’d told her there on the shore that he was finally gonna make good on an old promise and come back with her. Even then, she was certain he was just being sentimental, and that he was gonna take off and take care of other more important demigodly things after a number of days, but as more and more weeks went by, it became clearer and clearer to her that he had no plans of leaving any time soon.

Soon after, the village of Motunui seemed to follow. It took time, but he eventually started to be seen as less of the all-powerful Demigod of the Wind and Sea and more as just one of their own. He was given his own honorary fale, invited to feasts and ceremonies across the island, and eventually just invited to participate in the island’s day-to-day regular.

Moana smiles to herself at the thought, and inches closer to him in the sand. “It’s not like that, I promise” she says, giving him a pat on the arm full of mock sympathy. She then brings her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around herself in a self-hug. “I, uh…” she starts, “I had a nightmare.”

“...Oh,” Maui responds quietly, all of the playful bite in his voice fading out to sea. Something gentle takes its place as he tries to find his words. “Do you, uh…want to talk about it? What was it about?” 

Moana doesn’t respond right away. She tries to direct her gaze elsewhere to try and gather her thoughts and find a way to explain it gently, but it’s just her luck, because she somehow ends up locking eyes with Mini Maui. The little tattoo tilts his head at her, pacing back and forth and tapping at his chin like he’s trying to put the pieces together himself, but then he stops in his tracks and frowns sympathetically as he seems to realize something. He gestures upwards at Maui with his thumb, a little question mark popping up over his head. 

Him?

She nods, and he grimaces. 

Moana tries to look somewhere else, like down at the water or up at the stars or at the leaves of the coconut trees swaying in the gentle breeze a little ways down the shore, but she’s got this burning feeling that someone is staring at her, so she sucks in some air through her teeth and looks back to Maui, because she owes him that much.

He’s staring at her, eyes wide in shock. “Me?”

“I know, I know,” she tries to wave off that look on his face with a wave of her hands, but it still doesn’t do much to help how dumb and awkward she feels. “It’s stupid.” She rests her chin on her knees, pulling her eyes away from his burning gaze. “We were at Motufetū again. Well, not everyone. Just us. You and I.” She runs her hand along the wood of her oar to give herself something else to focus on. “And we were on my old canoe, right? The one we took to Te Fiti? So it wasn’t built for Nalo’s storms, because it’s so small, and we…well, actually just me, I was the only one on the boat, kept almost capsizing. I look up, because, you know, I don’t remember how I got there, and I see you, and…you’re still trying to pull the island out of the water.” 

She shakes her head. She can’t have the tears coming back to her eyes, not now. “...and I kept trying to shout out to you and tell you that it was okay if you couldn’t, and that we should try and regroup and come up with some other plan where we’d both be safe, because whatever you were doing wasn’t working. But, uh, you kept shouting back at me that you didn’t want to, something about old promises, and you wouldn’t let me help you no matter how angry Nalo got at you. I kept trying to help anyway, but then the ocean started stopping me too, so all I could do was sit back and watch. You just…wouldn’t stand down, no matter how much I begged you to come back, and…” she trails off, her voice dropping to little more than a whisper. “I had to watch Nalo tear into you all over again.”

She squeezes herself again, hoping the self-hug will be enough to stop the trembling from returning to her body. “It’s stupid,” she keeps on, before he can intervene, “because I know it’s just a dream, and it’s stupid, because we both know you don’t need anyone looking out for you. You’re a demigod, you don’t need saving, you don’t need protecting, and yet every time that image repeats itself in my head, I get all of these thoughts that are like, I should’ve done better, I should’ve done something to prevent this from happening. It’s like…why do I want to protect someone that doesn’t need it? What could I possibly do to keep you safe and prevent that sort of thing from happening that you couldn’t already do yourself?”

She scrubs her hands down her face. She’s just rambling at this point, she’s sure of it. “I’m sorry,” she sighs. “I’m probably not making any sense. It’s such a specific problem to have, wanting to protect someone you know doesn’t need it in the first place.” She tries to laugh at herself, but it comes out sounding a lot sadder than she intends for it to.

Silence. 

She figured that’d be the response.

She uncurls from around herself, and leans over to rest her head on Maui’s shoulder. Even though he’s really awful at the whole comforting words thing, she is happy he’s so willing to listen to her babble on, at least. She means to convey that sentiment, she really does, but a little flash of movement out of the corner of her eyes distracts her before she can.

She looks, and sees Mini Maui’s running over to Maui’s arm, right near where her hair is squished against it, and starts patting the space, as if he were trying to give her a comforting pat on the head despite being little more than a little tattoo.

That gets a genuine laugh out of her. “Thanks, little buddy. At least I know you’re trying,” she teases in an attempt to get a rise out of Maui, but then the little tattoo is shaking his head. He waves his arms in the air to keep her attention, and dashes off to another part of Maui’s chest. She follows him with her gaze, and blinks in surprise when he runs to Maui’s tattoo of her. He sits down on the deck of the little inked canoe, and even more surprising, Mini Moana lowers her arm from its usual frozen position and sits down beside him. She winds an arm around him as she looks up at her large counterpoint, her little inky eyes looking oh so sad.

They’re both trying to tell her something that Maui isn’t. 

“Maui, what are you trying to…” she tries, but her voice fades off when she turns to meet his gaze.

He’s staring at her with this distant, far-off look, almost as if he’s not really looking at her at all, something akin to grief in his eyes. If she looks closer, she realizes he’s not even looking at her face, but instead at…her arm?

…Her tattoo of Motufetū.

Every time she tries to remember what happened that day, she gets a splitting headache and the ghost of burning pain running down her spine. She remembers what happened to Maui, of course, but there’s nothing but static when she tries to remember what happened to her. She remembers diving into the water, the sound of thunder and lightning crashing around her, the sensation of her fingers brushing against Motufetū, and then…nothing.

The next thing she remembers after that is waking up…on the ocean floor? No, somewhere else, because the ocean wasn’t suffocating her, it was creating a protective dome around her. She remembers realizing, with a start, that Maui was holding her in his arms, and that there was a whole world of emotions on his face as he helped her to her feet.

Grief. Disbelief. Uncertainty. Euphoria.

She remembers the crushing hug that nearly knocked the wind out of her that he’d given her sometime later, when there was time for it. She remembers the voyage home, where she found herself repeatedly poking at her tattoo, wondering in the back of her mind if she’d ever earn one symbolizing what she did for Te Fiti. She remembers the first time she traced her fingers along the new patterns on her oar, making a mental note to see if they matched the symbols on Maui’s hook or if these patterns were uniquely her own.

She remembers having the smallest inkling of what had to happen for her to deserve everything that came after, but never finding the time to ask, always too afraid to bring up such a touchy subject.

…Oh.

Does he have nightmares about what happened to her?

She shifts herself in the sand so she can meet his eyes better. “Maui?” she whispers, hesitant to reach out and touch him out of fear that he’ll shatter to pieces.

He snaps himself from his trance. “Sorry,” he replies haphazardly, and it’s so uncharacteristic of him that it makes Moana wince. He shifts in the sand before Moana has a chance to say anything. “Look…” he starts, fumbling over his words before they’re even out of his mouth. “I get it. I know you don’t really need the protection either. I’ve seen what you’re capable of! You’re certainly much stronger and more resourceful than any other human I’ve met.” He shakes his head. “You’re actually probably even more than I give you credit for, given that the gods, you know…” his voice drops, “...saw you as someone worthy of being saved. Means that even they see something in you that’s strong and powerful and nothing to sneeze at. The gods have faith in you. They know you’re perfectly well and capable of seizing anything you set your heart on. I know firsthand that you’re capable of seizing anything you set your heart on!”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes starting to go cloudy again. “But…after everything, you know, watching you go limp on the surface of Motufetū…” he pauses, taking a deep breath to try and gather his composure. “My mind can’t help but wander, and…” his gaze turns to her. “It’s hard not to see you as someone I want to keep safe.” He laughs self-deprecatingly at himself, as if it were a ridiculous thought to be having at all. “You’re just as much of a demigod now as I am, Curly. You deserve more credit than that.”

Moana’s chest aches. It means the world to her that he understands, and that he’s trying to bring her comfort, but it breaks her heart to know they’re both struggling with this. She hadn’t even considered for one moment that he had watched her die, but she realizes with a grimace that it’s exactly the sort of thing Nalo would’ve forced him to do for trying to break his millennia-long curse.

She’s not sure what to say. She’s not sure what she could say.

…But maybe, she realizes, she doesn’t even really need to say anything at all. If she feels immense comfort just knowing that he’s there for her, even without the proper words for it…

Moana inches to Maui’s side and silently winds an arm around his back. She can’t reach all the way across, not even close, but even she doesn’t miss the way that her fingers brush gently against the tattoo of his mother, the age-old reminder of how long he’s been forced to feel abandoned and alone. Moana can do nothing now but hope that he understands her silent promise.

He does, instantly, and the exhale that escapes him is deep and shuddered. Wordlessly, he returns the gesture, winding an arm around her shoulders and gently pulling her closer to his side.

For a few moments, neither of them speak. Moana closes her eyes, allowing her to focus on the gentle sounds of the ocean and the chirp of crickets. She focuses on the feeling of the cool, soft sand beneath her feet. She focuses on the warmth of her home island’s air and Maui’s arm around her. She focuses on these little reminders that she’s still alive, and she exhales.

A few more moments pass before she opens her eyes. “Well…what are we gonna do?” She tilts her head at Maui when he meets her gaze again. “Two of the most powerful demigods in all the seas,” she pauses, pouting dramatically, “and here we are, struggling with nightmares.”

Maui laughs at that, genuinely. It’s boisterous and familiar and more comforting than Moana’s willing to admit.

“Time heals all, O Chosen One” he replies, waggling his head from side to side as if he were poking fun at the stiff formality of the gods he grew up with. “But…” his gaze softens and his voice drops to little more than a murmur, “It does help wonders knowing you’re not alone.”

The true weight of those words are not lost on Moana. She throws herself at him in a hug, and he laughs again as he catches her without a moment’s falter or hesitation, almost as if it were a practiced motion. She grins unabashedly at that thought as she buries her face into his shoulder.

“You’re right,” she says, voice muffled, and she gives him one more good squeeze before she lets him go and drops back down into the sand. She leans her head against his arm, and turns her gaze out towards the horizon. “It does help wonders.”

[theyuniversity]

💡🧠 Grammar Lesson: Collective Nouns

A collective noun is one that is structurally singular but refers to a plural. Examples of collective nouns include the following (but there are countless others):

group

collection

litter (of animals) 🐈🐈🐈

herd 🐄🐄🐄

flock (of birds) 🐦🐦🐦

school (of fish) 🐟🐠🐡

family 👨‍👩‍👦

trio

pair

team

Notice that each of those nouns is singular (the words do not end with -s) but refers to more than one item.

In American English, collective nouns are generally singular except for “people” and “police.” (In British English, collective nouns are plural.) For example, a football club (soccer team) is considered a plural entity in British English, whereas in American English, it is treated as one singular unit:

Image via EnglishClub

Proceeding in American English, the following are correct:

My family is going to Maui during winter break. 🏝🐳

Our football team is exceeding expectations this year; it might actually compete for the league title. 🏈🏆

A flock of birds flying in perfect synchronicity is a sight to behold. 🕊

The trio of appetizers appeals to my younger brother. 🍠🥙🥑😋

The group of contestants expects the judges’ results by next week. 🤞

⚠ However, there is one big exception:

“A lot of [x]”, “a bunch of [x],” and “a number of [x]” are all considered plural. The most basic reason for this is that all of them essentially mean ‘many’ (and “many” is always plural). For example, all of these are plural:

A lot of movie-watchers were disappointed by the director’s latest film. 🎬👎

Lately, a number of dogs have been barking at odd hours of the night. 🐕

A bunch of children are looking forward to receiving Christmas presents from Santa. 🎅

💡 Pro Tip: If you are concerned that you might misuse “a lot of,” “a number of,” and “a bunch of,” just replace them with easier synonyms, including “many” and “several.” 👌

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[vasyandii]

Hi love! Here I am again annoying you <3

For the OC ask game thingy:

4, 9, 10, 14, 23, 24

If you don't want to answer all of them you can just choose! <3

Yes hello hello!! Sorry it took so long for me to get to this ask ;0;;; I always want to make sure I include a lil thank you doodle so it took a while xD

(( The OC Ask Game as a refresher ))

4. When scared, does your OC fight, flee, freeze or fawn?

Despite prioritizing her own safety over others, Phayvanh is stubborn. If it comes to it, she's going to fight until she has an opening to run or until another person comes.

So.. kind of a mix of Fight AND Flee xD

9. Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

Oooh Definitely this one quote

“The dog that weeps after it kills is no better than the dog that doesn't. my guilt will not purify me.”

10. What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

Ooooh boy. I have alot of Aus but here's a list of my favorites.

1. KruegerNak Fantasy Au where Nak is a Naga and Krueger is a Nachtkrapp (Night Raven)

2. Avatar Last Air Bender Au where Krueger is a Dai Li Agent, Nak is a Fire Nation Soldier

3. Boxing au!! Krueger is a Professional Boxer, Nak is a Professional Mauy Thai Fighter

4. This one Super cringe Ice Skating Au: Nak is in a women's Hockey team, Krueger is a figure skater

These are all Aus I want to explore more but never really have the time since it doesn't.. really fit with the military setting I like. But it's some I like thinking about!

14. How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

She wants to be seen with improvement. That she's trying so hard to be better. Her words and actions have hurt people in the past and she wants to prove that she won't make the same mistakes again.

On a lighter note, she wants to be seen as girly. She really adores and admires women. She wants to dress pretty and be pretty like the women she looks up to (Syd, Iskra.. etc.) Because she didn't have the chance to be feminine back in Laos.

23. What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

Guilt and Grief. Nak is FILLED with guilt and grief.

The more she improves as a person the more she feels guilt for her actions in the past, she doesn't know if she is able to apologize because how could she? Would it be too late? Some of them are long dead so she can't apologize.

Guilt is an emotion she can explain, Grief isn't.

Grief is in her very core. Nak grieves for her mother for giving birth to her, for giving her up. So much so that Nak doesn't know why she feels like this, she misses and yearns for her mother so desperately. However Phayvanh doesn't believe she should be feeling this way, she doesn't deserve it. After all..

"How can someone miss a person they never knew? Touch? Seen? That person could not be real for all they know."

This is an emotion she doesn't express besides from finding mother figures in older women.

24. What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

Her alternate life path would be controlling Naga's Drug trafficking Ring.

If Nak never fled Laos and took up Naga's family business she would most definitely be dead by now. Her temper and stubbornness would've run what her uncle built up to the ground. Naga knew that.

Joining Chimera was the best thing that could've ever happened to her.

Aaand thats all I can say for now, I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing this :3

[kaziwi]

Hi, ◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉ!! (Is this how I request?)

Sorry if this sounds awkward, I was thinking of a Maui (from Moana) Reader (gender nuetral) being a demi-god. Any power (the shapeshipting etc.) can be up to you! I was thinking of a small oneshot (anythings fine really) that's similar to the song "you're welcome" in the movie, so like, Reader is stranded alone on the island, desperate to leave, they can't swim cuz the ocean hates them (curse from Te Fiti), and then they meet the Straw Hat Pirates, and either want to leave with the crew or just steal their whole ship. Something along the lines of that?

Hope you have a nice day!!

Hi! This was a interesting request, I hope you enjoy!!

Strawhats Save Stranded Reader

Character(s): Strawhats

WC: 392

Its been about 2 years since you've been stuck on this island, and you were getting desperate. You wanted to get off this island as soon as possible and go back to living your normal life as a demi-god. Your powers have grown weaker while you stayed on this island, and you just wished you were at full power again.

You were sitting on the beach, bored out of your mind, when you noticed a boat approaching. It was a big pirate ship with a lion head on the front. Its been so long since you've seen a ship you jumped up in joy, signaling them to stop here.

The ship's crew stopped on the island and went to greet you. You learned they were called the Strawhat Pirates and that they stopped here wondering if there was a village they could restock at. You told them no, but desperate to get them to stay, you said the island was full of resources that they could take. You decided not to tell them about your powers for now...just in case...

While a few members of the crew left to explore the island, you stayed back with the members that you learned to be Nami, Chopper, and Franky. You explained to them about how you were stranded here and you desperately needed to leave. They were sympathetic towards you and the big cyborg even started crying after hearing your story. They invited you to join them for dinner tonight, and you graciously accepted. While you were excited for dinner, another thought popped in your head, what if you stole their ship...it would be the perfect get away!

Later that night, you sat on the lawn of their ship, The Thousand Sunny, listening to one of the crew members, Usopp, tell a story about his 8,000 men. It was growing late, and you knew this would be the perfect time to use your demi-god powers to overpower them, when the captain, Luffy, turned to you.

"Nami told me about your problem, so how about you join us for awhile, we can drop you off at any island you want!!"

You looked at him shocked, even after knowing you for less than a day they offered to help you. You accepted excitedly and partied the rest of the night celebrating your escape from the island.

[writing-with-yours-truly]

Writing Guidelines- RED LIGHT

I will not write for the following fandoms and characters:

Dream

Wilbur Soot

Controversial public figures

Hazbin Hotel

Helluva Boss

Star Wars

Percy Jackson

Any minors in a romantic setting

I will not write the following settings:

Smut

Rape

Incest

Uncanon ships

NSFW

Writing Guidelines- ORANGE LIGHT

In the future, I may write for the following fandoms and characters:

Wicked

Hunger Games

Writing Guidelines- GREEN LIGHT

I have wrote/will write for the following fandoms and characters:

Across/Into the Spiderverse - Nothing yet, try asking!

Bruce Wayne - Nothing yet, try asking!

Chris Redfield - Nothing yet, try asking!

Ethan Hunt - Nothing yet, try asking!

Gaurdians of the Galaxy- Nothing yet, try asking!

Ghostbusters- "You said you don't dance"(Lars)

Hamilton- "To my dearest" (John Laurens)

Javier Rivera- "They're gone..." , "Sick Day" , "Fluff Alphabet" , "The Dog Days Are Over" , "Am I Okay?" , "Always Been You"

Knuckles the series- "Christmas baking with you" (Wade Whipple) , "Lowkey Burnout" (Wade Whipple) , "Grounded" (Knuckles) , "Little Interruptions" (Wade Whipple) , Headcanons (Wade Whipple)

Marty McFly- "I think I met my dad in 1955" , "Earth Angel"

Marvel- Nothing yet, try asking!

Mario- "Rainbow Road"

Maui- Nothing yet, try asking!

Mean Girls- Nothing yet, try asking!

Mike Schmidt (FNAF)- Fluff Alphabet

New Girl- Nothing yet, try asking!

Noah Diaz- "Late Night Gaming"

Patrick Mahomes- Nothing yet, try asking!

Pixar films- Nothing yet, try asking!

Red One- Nothing yet, try asking!

ROTTMNT- Nothing yet, try asking!

SELECT MCYT- "We stole Mr. Beast's Car" (Quackity)

Simpsons- Nothing yet, try asking!

Sing- Nothing yet, try asking!

Sonic 1, 2 & 3- "Coming to Earth" (Sonic), Headcanons (Sonic)

Sonic Boom- Nothing yet, try asking!

Sonic Prime- Nothing yet, try asking!

Squid Game- Nothing yet, try asking!

TMNT- "'Til Death Do Us Part" (Ronin! Raphael)

TMNT Bayverse- Nothing yet, try asking!

Top Gun- "G-LoC" (Maverick) , "Final Fight" (Maverick) , "Returned Favor" (Maverick)

Tommy boy- Nothing yet, try asking!

Transformers Bayverse- "Meeting Noah Diaz"

Trolls- Nothing yet, try asking!

I have/will write for the following settings:

Songfic

Angst

Fluff

Letterfic

Alphabet Fluff

Headcanons

Romantic for characters over 18

Platonic

[elijones94]

🌺🌸 Moana and two palm leafs 🌴🌊

[foxes-that-run]

Have you done a Hunger analysis/can you do one

Hi, I haven't, I love that song though. So here it is:

Hunger

It is about Harry looking back on a relationship he is not over. It was leaked in 20 April 2022, the week he played Coachella. See 2022 timeline if you subscribe to the thought the leaks are timed.

When it was written is less important because it's quite reflective, but based on 'one year into two', if I had to guess, I think this song is from the first week of January 2017:

4 January 2013 - Blue dress on a boat

6 January 2015 - Harry and Taylor were ambiguously dating (and touring) since Valentine's Day 2014. Harry arrived in LA on the 2nd and neither was seen for a few days. Taylor posted this photo with 'This Love' Lyrics. Harry then reappeared. Things seemed tense at a birthday on the 19th and Taylor went to Maui with the Haim sisters while Harry stayed in LA. Taylor started dating Calvin a few weeks later.

6 January 2016 - Harry posted this photo of rain on a window. Out of the Woods MV was just released, it aired NYE 2015 in the same show as the last 1D TV appearance.

5 January 2017 - The leak Lately included that it was written on 5 January 2017, He flew to LA on the 6th. Lately was leaked on 6 January 2024. That is one year turning two from 2015:

Lyrics

Candles burnt down to the floor Wearing less than you wore before Shoes sitting by the door never put them on We would stay in my house for days Spilling breakfast on pillowcases Your stuff don’t taste the same Now that you’re gone

The first verse is reminiscing of the good times, of enjoying spending time together in a hedonistic way.

To me the first lines are on New Years Eve 2012 which Taylor also included in New Years Day "Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor / You and me from the night before". If written in January the shared NYE memory would have been timely.

I love the line "shoes sitting by the door" it sounds to me like they were to go out but stayed in to be together.

"Your stuff don't taste the same" to me is her music, especially Red and 1989, I imagine hearing them after they were actually over would hurt with how much the themes of 1989 especially are "built to fall apart and back together again"

I guess I’m prone to overthinking One thing goes wrong and I can’t adjust I’ve lost the taste for the good in us And I’m sorry

The second verse is talking about feeling sad that Harry wasn't able to keep the relationship and his engagement with it.

"Lost the taste for the good": reminds me of the Two Ghosts, "We're not who we used to be". Two Ghosts was written around Valentines Day 2015, soon after this break up. To Nick Grimshaw Harry said about it "sometimes things change, and you can do all the same things, and sometimes it’s just different, you know". I think this is a similar detached loss of connection, later to Zane Lowe Harry said he was 'just coasting.'

I think with more time for reflection this song has matured to see with regret why he lost the taste for the good in what he lost, which Two Ghosts doesn't get into.

"Prone to overthinking" is interesting, Harry seems like he would. He uses this word again in Grapejuice about Taylor, he acknowledges she worries about other girls and assures he doesn't want anyone else "You're always there, so don't overthink, I'm so over whites and pinks"

We had a hunger then only each other then Couldn’t get enough when we started Always a hunger then now it’s just emptiness We were in love, we were starving We had a hunger then

To me, the song title and chorus has a double meaning:

In the first half of the chorus Harry is singing about Hunger in the sense of an insatiable desire for each other. The bliss of a new relationship where you just want to be together all the time.

This ends with 'now there's just emptiness. He uses emptiness as an analogy for being emotionally depleted in Ever Since New York also "There's no water inside this swimming pool" and in Two Ghosts "We're just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty"

I hear a second meaning with "we were in love, we were starving." The theme of the song is reflecting on where it went wrong, I think he is referring their mental health and wellbeing at the time as being a factor for why it didn't work out.

We could ruin a perfect night On my birthday I made you cry You told me you learned to drive I guess you lied I could never get sick of you I just bit off more than I could chew And as one year turns into two I’m still not over you, still not over you

As the song says, they are still not over each other.

You told me you learned to drive

This could be read two ways, as many anons have said to me today :)

Taylor used driving as a metaphor for their relationship in Treacherous and throughout 1989 and Harry did in Keep Driving. The line is saying that she told Harry they could make it work but she lied and they didn’t. I really like this interpretation, it reminds me of Fools Gold where he also called her a lair for him feeling like his commitment to their relationship wasn’t reciprocated

This reminds me of of a Gatsby quote Jordan says to Nick: “You said a bad driver was only safe until she met another bad driver? Well, I met another bad driver, didn’t I? I mean it was careless of me to make such a wrong guess. I thought you were rather an honest, straightforward person. I thought it was your secret pride.”

On my birthday I made you cry

Taylor also refers to this in Coney Island the male part sings "Were you standing in the hallway / With a big cake, happy birthday". Sadly there are options for this, I think the big cake is a metaphor for an special gift:

2015, he threw a big party with lots of famous people in LA just before he left for tour. After possibly break up 6 January, on the 17th Taylor shared a photo of her kitchen with the framed Temper Trap Lyrics on her stove, (below). She then went to Maui with the Haim sisters, on the 23rd - 30th (I wonder if Harry was meant to go). On Harry's birthday she was in Nashville.

2013 Taylor had Temper Trap write and sign the correct lyrics/Arm Lyrics/Tattoo and framed it for his birthday, but they broke up before she gifted it. She included it in the photo again in 2015. :( The blue dress on a boat was 4 January, however she was in London on the 21st and rumoured to see him. There were reports she had booked a week in Italy as well as other gifts. Harry had a wild 19th birthday with a £5k bar tab and strippers.

I could never get sick you

I hear "I could never get sick of you" as responding to something said directly to Harry. However, in November 2015 Taylor used those words to Vogue. It's an interesting comment that was foreshadowing the Reputation era. If this song was written in early 2017 it would have been the thick of that:

"I'll need to give people a certain breather from me because at a certain point they're going to get a little sick of hearing about me, so then I'll need to go away for a while and then depending on my gauge on how sick of me they are I'll decide when to put out the next album,"

I just bit off more than I could chew

I think this is the crux of it, Harry was quite young when they started dating and the One Direction schedule of a tour and album every year was intense. In his more recent interviews he's talked about mental health, and his band mates have also spoken about the toll it took on them. I think Harry was not available or ready to provide an older partner who was also anxious the support she was looking for. In his words in To be So Lonely, he "Wasn't ready for it all".

[pickles4nickles]

Rotating some ideas in my mind about doing some sketch commissions for charity 'cause the fires on Maui are hitting literally and figuratively extremely close to home.

I'm thinking they'd be for like Aloha United Way or Hawai'i Foodbank because I've known those two charities for forever and they've been vetted, so-

I'm not exactly sure how I'll go about them just yet, though, 'cause my spoons for all of this is kinda low but uhh if anyone is interested in something like that, here's a casual late night interest check.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

I woke up this morning and wore my Ohana hat from a store in Hanalei in the house where I'm staying off Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles. Ohana means family in Hawaiian, and I'm not talking bloodline, though of course it also means bloodline.

I woke up this morning and tried to reach my friend Kat again who lives up country in Maui because they don't have water or electricity and I did not hear from her yet.

I woke up this morning missing Conor and Mika. Last time I returned to Kauai from Los Angeles, five year old Conor asked me what it was like to miss me.

It makes me wonder why as adults we go so long without wondering. How we decide so much before we ask questions.

I went to get a coffee at Erewhon in Pacific Palisades, a health food store where Margaret Cho cut in front of me in line two days ago to order her post workout protein drink with her entourage.

I got into the checkout line and my cashier was a beautiful American Indian man with a moon face and long gray hair to his shoulders and gentle eyes, and he asked me if I was a member of the store.

No, I don't live here, I said, I'm not a member.

Where do you live?

Hawaii.

When I spoke Hawaii, he stopped what he was doing - put my groceries down and reached across the counter for both my hands. His fingers were ringed with turquoise and silver.

He asked me if I was alright.

Yes, I don't live on Maui, I said, but...well, of course I have friends who do, and no - nobody is really alright there at all.

Right there, in the middle of a store on Sunset Blvd. with peonies and sunflowers and eucalyptus leaves in extravagant bouquets, with six kinds of exotic mushrooms and every kind of fresh sushi and nut milk ever made - a place where a protein drink is named after Hailey Bieber -

he blessed me - and everyone on Maui.

I felt a warmth rush through me, and all of humanity between us - the women buying the $300 t-shirts next door and the homeless man with the matted hair being followed by security last night.

The American Indians who have so much suffering in their DNA, they know what a Land Grab is, they know how the government conspires to take and not serve the people...

His name was Joseph and he blessed me, and in blessing me and the people of Maui, he also blessed you - you who are reading this. Whatever illness you are healing from, whatever pain you have endured, whatever laughter and joy you grab when you can and savor....

his blessing was also meant for you.

I'm helping a dear friend heal from an injury and teaching and hiking and weeping and writing and listening to stories about home, because that's our topic in the writing group - love of home.

Los Angeles is not my home anymore - Hawaii has been for fifteen years, but the Santa Monica canyon and Will Rogers park live inside of me, and always will.

Each morning I walk the dogs and take in the morning sage.

Each night I walk the dogs again and listen to the owls talk to each other across the canyon.

Each night I stay up late on my computer learning what I can do to help Maui.

[...]

I'm sure somebody close to you needs help. Sometimes all we need to do is cook for someone and share a meal and pick up groceries, or share a story.

Even take out their trash.

Let's give and give to each other until it's a way of life again. I promise you it will create a ripple wave that will reach as far as Maui, and create the feeling of Ohana all over the world.

Yesterday on Abbott Kinney, I stood in front of a gallery window staring at this painting of The Last Supper by Johan Andersson. I took a photo of it, when a family walked in between me and the painting - they paused.

We all discussed what it meant. At the table is someone snorting drugs, an exhausted mother not paying attention to her baby, a prison inmate, two people making out - someone with a machine gun.

Finally, the mother in the group looked at me and sighed.

It means Jesus loves all of us, she said.

Yep - All of us, I echoed.

Take someone's hands today you love and pass the blessing on.

[...]

To honor all the houseless people on Maui today, and all over the world, I give you this last stanza of a Mary Oliver poem - "On Losing a House."

Goodbye, house. Goodbye, sweet and beautiful house, we shouted, and it shouted back, goodbye to you, and lifted itselfdown from the town, and set offlike a packet of clouds acrossthe harbor’s sandy ring, the tossing bell, the untowned point— and turned lightly, wordlessly, into the keep of the wind where it floats still— where it plunges and rises still  on the black and dreamy sea.

-Laura Lentz

[kingrosalani]

On Thursday I got my mama’s finger print tatted as the shell of a sea turtle.

My mother ADORED sea turtles so so much. We have little sea turtle things all around the house because every Christmas I made sure to gift her something with a sea turtle involved.

My mom loved honu for many reasons.

It reminded her of the beach, of her home Maui, but it also reminded her of her late brother, my uncle Robert, who passed in 2009. He had this huge honu tattooed on his back. It was a beautiful tattoo. They would talk on the phone all the time, late at night over here for our Iowa time, for hours. Losing a sibling is hard and I know that personally.

The honu represents so much in Hawaiian culture to luck, guardian, protection and wisdom.

My mother was my comfort and my guide through life. My plus one. My number one. She will always be my guide and it doesn’t feel like she’s truly gone.

There are moments where I just know what she’d say or do. It’s really bittersweet.

Thank you so so much Amberly and Warrior Tattoo for giving me this tattoo. I love it more and more everyday and it’s so special. Can’t wait for warmer weather so I can show it off more.

[kaimukiwahine]

Donations at the state Capitol. Though it doesnt look like a lot, this is just a small percent. Three floors plus the basement was packed room to room with donations. The Chamber had a wall full of boxes by volunteers who worked the late night shift last night.

So many donations came in yesterday they had to halt accepting more and now the cost to ship them is more than the goods themselves.

Please still continue to donate or support to the Maui community. The fire is still burning out there. People are still missing. Survivors still haven't set foot back at what was and still is their home to start the grieving to healing process.

[mahinastarz]

“On the fateful morning of December 8, 1941, the future of the island of Kaho’olawe would be forever changed. The day prior, when Japanese bombers emptied their payloads on the warships stationed at Pearl Harbor, they set in motion a chain of events that would eventually lead to Martial Law being declared in all of Hawaii.

One of the acts of that Martial Law was that Kaho’olawe was immediately controlled as a target island for bombing. The location, it’s said, was perfect for a military training to fight a new kind of enemy in the Pacific. Over the course of World War II—and 45 years that would follow—thousands of bullets, mortars and bombs would deplete the little topsoil remaining on the already eroded island.

Of all the bombing on Kaho’olawe, none is more infamous than the series of bombings in 1965. Collectively known as “Operation Sailor Hat,” the blasts contained 500 tons of explosives meant to simulate a nuclear bomb. Warships were anchored immediately offshore, and the purpose of the tests was to determine how a blast of a nuclear-strength would affect a U.S. warship. There was no radiation involved in the tests—although the strength of the blasts on the island’s coast resulted in a crater over 280 feet in diameter.

Known today as the “Sailor Hat Crater,” the crater now houses an anchialine pool that’s home to ‘opae’ulashrimp found mainly in brackish ponds.Throughout the bombing of Kaho’olawe, it’s safe to say that not everyone was pleased with what was taking place on the island. For many of Hawaii’s Native Hawaiians, the bombing of such an historic and sacred place was a desecration of Hawaiian culture. In addition to the strafing and pillaging of the Earth, 1,000 years of archaeology was literally disappearing from the face of the Earth with every payload dropped.

Which is why, in highly publicized political events meant to draw attention to the island, demonstrators with the Protect Kaho’olawe Ohana placed themselves ashore in 1976. Because the island was Federal property and the site of unexploded ordnance, no civilians were allowed to access the island at any time. On the morning of January 5th, however, nearly 100 protesters departed from Ma’alaea harbor en route to Kaho’olawe. It didn’t take long for U.S. Coast Guard boats to intercept the majority of protestors, but one boat carrying nine of the protesters was able to reach the shore. By afternoon, seven of the protestors were apprehended and released back on Maui, although two were able to survive for two nights before eventually turning themselves in.

A year later, in 1977, the political battle for Kaho’olawe would take a deadly turn. While en route to pick up two protestors who had been ashore for 35 days, three protestors by the names of George Helm, Kimo Mitchell, and unrelated Billy Mitchell, were stranded on the island when their rescue boat was mysteriously damaged on Maui. With only two surfboards between the three of them, Billy Mitchell turned back for help when he realized the currents were too strong. Tragically, the plea for help would come too late, and George Helm and Kimo Mitchell were never seen again.”

[kmp78]

JL over worked. All those festivals, jet lag, tour launch, stunt and interviews. He just doesn’t wanna touch ig these days. I’m not sarcastic btw, he did work lately

If this was the 1st time he went conveniently mute, your argument might be slightly more believable. 😉

Kinda like when he and VK went to Maui and he foolishly posted that selfie from their suite...

...but unfortunately didn't realize it was way too easy for Yours Truly to break the code... 🧐

... so the very next day he switched on his panicky but adorable "MAYDAY MAYDAY SOS!!!" damage control initiative. ⚠️😂

And for some reason he never posted a dang thing from Maui again. 🤷🏼‍♀️

Lucky for us his girlfriend constantly did tho. 😂

Mmmmmm... brekkieeeeee... ☕️🍌🥭🥯🥞🧀🧈

It's important to fuel up after an activity-filled night. 🫠