#never talk to me about how a lot of people draw noses the same 2 ways I’m so fucking annoying about it

[largemandrill]

I love that Thiollier is getting a bunch of fanart (I love him deeply) but it’s a real shame that his jawline is shaved down to a twinkish triangle so often. His face is oddly square and that deserves to be represented in more feminine characters.

[sammygender]

thoughts on how the sam & dean part of the fight before sam left for stanford went !

i am addicted to thinking about precanon so thank you for this <33

i think people r generally way too optimistic about how that initial seperation between them went. dean is awful to sam about stanford even years after he left and years after he came back!! hes still very visibly angry about it in s5 which is NINE YEARS after he left in the first place and refuses to even tolerate the idea it was a good moment for sam. i cannot comprehend how people think 22 year old dean had the emotional maturity to even let sam go without a fight, nevermind be supportive about it.

like. theres this amazinggg art on here of sam hitchhiking to stanford and all the comments are like 'erm that black eye would be from JOHN actually!' (side note but it is so funny to me how spn fans decide john hit them based on implication (which i agree w... to an extent...) but dean hitting sam onscreen multiple times somehow translates to 'DEAN WOULD NEVER DO THAT'. erm. okay.) 'nooo dean would've given sam a lift!'

and like. what show are you watching. if dean would've given sam a lift he would've done it to the bus station in moody silence and then locked the doors of the impala so sam couldn't get out to catch his bus to stanford and they would've started physically fighting for the car keys and dean eventually wouldve let sam get them and sam wouldve left. or something. but it would not be some sweet brotherly moment bc that directly contradicts canon <3

i do think the worst of the fight is between sam & john - that's always what's implied in canon - and in my head dean's just standing there stonefaced maybe refusing to even talk to sam until theyre left alone somehow and he breaks. but i also think dean hits sam at some point, will always have the image in my head of sam showing up to stanford w a bloody nose and fending off questions. (internally hes like no my dad didnt do this it was my brother so its fine. <3.) theres a scene like this in one of my fics so im just drawing from that. but. like....

idk how dean/john finds out. if dean found out before john, i think dean probably wouldve run to him about it in an attempt to get sam Not To Go as much as it would be nice if he didnt, so i reckon they have to find out at about the same time. i think sam is unsure what to expect from dean, who of course (as far as we see both in flashbacks and in canon) alternates between genuine care and support and angry, desperate possessiveness. he probably hopes for the best and expects the worst and gets the worst.

there r definitely lots of different ways it could go....maybe sam tells dean and dean tells john. maybe sam tells john without telling dean at all and thats how dean finds out which totally wrecks him. maybe sam tells them both at the same time. maybe sam never tells them and they find the acceptance letter. this is why stanford fight is sooo fascinating. i feel like i could write five different versions of it and all would be possible/interesting.

but whichever way, i just dont see dean as contradicting john. he generally Doesnt Ever precanon, this is established, he admits it himself, thats why its such a huge moment when he defends sam at the end of s1.....sam going on about dean 'protecting him' is 1. more subtle and probably to do with dean being the one to shoulder most of johns emotional baggage than the heller misinterpretation of 'john hit dean but not sam and thats what this means!!!' (tho i am sure dean did genuinely Protect sam sometimes including from physical violence. of course he did. this isnt to discredit that..i just emphasise the Sometimes.). and 2. partially just classic Sam Rewriting History (u always protected me from dad, from lucifer....girl he did those things very little certainly not always. know your worth sam winchester).

so if dean gives sam a very angry lift (to a nearby bus station...there is absolutely zero fucking way hes driving him to stanford and tbh i already find this quite unlikely but possibilities r interesting) its on john's say-so or at least not disapproval. which like. sure maybe. john certainly is concerned about sam's safety even after he kicks him out, checking up on him at stanford etc, id believe that hed want to ensure sam Gets there even if the fight ended up so bad he told sam he couldnt come back. tho hes stubborn and i dont think hed say it. so maybe itd be a case of dean kind of picking up that that's what john wants and complying even though right now half of him wants to never see sam again and the other half wants to tie him to the radiator so he can never leave. sorry i am literally brainstorming fic ideas in this ask answer now.

anyway....SORRY id say long ass answer as always but this is actually INSANELY long......sorry guys im about to embark upon getting tested for adhd and maybe then my rambles will be, while not shorter in length, more cohesive? tldr fandom is wrong dean is an absolute ASS during stanford fight. obviously sam leaving devastates him and how does dean cope with devastation or perceived abandonment do we think?? hm?? he is just as angry as john for the same and different reasons. and thats really so much more interesting than him being Secretly Supportive. <3

[goldfish-or-smthing]

The Updated Tedependent Masterpost

Disclaimer: Same as last time! I have no problem with people who ship other things, don't ship anything, or ship Tedependent but don't want/expect it to be canon! This is just a theory... (a TED LASSO theory 😎)

Quick notes:

original post here!

Some of this stuff is new, some of it is old, some of it is my observations, and some of it is from other people... I was just getting annoyed at the old post missing stuff and wanted to have all the Tedependent evidence in one place

I’ll be updating this post if new evidence comes along 😊

PART 1 - The Evidence

Car park/similarities with Michelle

In 1x05 when Ted tells Michelle he’s ready to get divorced, he talks about how their relationship began —at school, in a parking lot. Not only did Ted and Trent visit a school on the day they began to get to know each other, but their last scene of season 2 takes place in the Richmond parking lot, which draws even more parallels between their relationship and that of Ted and Michelle. This post also illustrates some connections between the scene between Michelle and Ted and the one between Ted and Trent at the end of 3x02.

Ted’s focus on Trent

From the very first time he calls on Trent in the press room, we see Ted act differently towards Trent than the other reporters. He makes jokes with him, and Trent responds in turn. Ted also makes Trent’s daughter biscuits, which we never see him do for any other reporter and which also implies that not only has he interacted with Trent outside of work but he’s also met his daughter too, something that he doesn’t appear to do with other journalists.

Parallels between Roy/Keely and Ted/Trent

This is a list within a list! The parallels are: - Roy and Keeley have their first big romantic moment in the Richmond parking lot, which is also where Ted and Trent's last scene of season 2 is set (and connects to the Michelle parking lot speech too). - When Roy first invites Keeley on a date, they do a sort of press room roleplay thing. Not only are they just generally mirroring Ted and Trent, but Keeley literally introduces herself as "Keeley Jones, The Independent Woman", announcing herself in the exact same way that Trent usually does, even down to her joking newspaper name, which is literally.... The Independent Woman... It couldn't really be any more on the nose. - The first scene where we see Roy and Keeley begin to fall for each other is at the end of 1x03, after Roy headbutts Colin in the club and threatens everyone to stop bullying Nate, and we get Keeley and Roy nodding at each other in acknowledgement. As this is happening, Trent is reading out his article about Ted, which could be considered the first time we see Trent beginning to fall for Ted. - Roy and Keeley also have Phoebe, who's almost their pseudo-daughter in some scenes, similar to how Trent has a daughter.

Twelfth Night

In 2x07, at around 31 mins in, we get a scene with Trent going up to Ted in the pub to ask for a quote. At the beginning of this scene, right before Trent shows up, Mae says to Ted "If music be the food of love, play on, give me excess of it", which is the opening line to Shakespeare's romantic comedy Twelfth Night. In Twelfth Night, this line is said by Orsino, who is lamenting about a woman named Olivia, whom he loves but who doesn't love him back (I take this to be Ted and Michelle). Orsino then moves on and falls in love with Caesario, a man who is actually a woman called Viola disguised as a man. To cut a long story short, the relationship between Orsino and Viola/Caesario is considered to be a homosexual love story. Bear in mind that lines in this show are rarely said for no reason, and that this line serves no other purpose (and frankly seems a little out of place) than to hint at a romance between Ted and Trent.

Casablanca

At the beginning of the same scene, when Trent sees Ted, he says "Of all the pub joints!". This is a reference to the line "Of all the gin joints in the world, she walks into mine" from Casablanca. As well as this, episode 8 of season 3 is titled “We’ll Never Have Paris”, another reference to Casablanca (although so far some of the suspected titles have been slightly different from the actual title). Casablanca is, of course, an incredibly famous (perhaps the most famous?) romance movie, and it’s interesting to me that not only does it get referenced in a scene between Ted and Trent but it comes up again in season 3.

Also to note: Raja Casablanca is the name of the football club Edwin Akufo invites Sam to join in season 2. Because of this, some people have speculated that the episode title’s reference to Casablanca is actually meant to link back to Sam. I find this unlikely though, as the episode preceding it is titled “Ola’s”, which is the name of Sam’s restaurant, so it would be unlikely to have two Sam-centric episodes in a row.

Trent’s Date

On the same scene of season 2 (we got a LOT from that scene...), we see Trent leaving someone at the door. Many people have speculated that this is his partner or someone he’s dating, which is very likely when you consider Trent’s not-very-platonic tone and way of touching the man. An interesting detail about the man Trent was dating is that he has a moustache, much like someone else we know… 🤨🤨

Higgins

In 2x05 Higgins describes to Rebecca how the first time he met his wife, he embarrassed himself by spilling beer all over himself, and the first time Ted and Trent interact, Ted also embarrasses himself by spitting water everywhere.

Similarities between Trent and Rebecca

There are quite a few similarities between Trent and Rebecca- they’re both very icy to Ted in the beginning, are won over through food (Rebecca through the biscuits, Trent over spicy Indian food), are almost the exact same age according to the pilot script, have strangely similar hair, and the only people Ted makes biscuits for on the show are Rebecca and Trent’s daughter. As well as this, in 1x03 Ted says to Trent “Watch your back, Gay Talese there’s a new iconic profile about to be typed up by one Trent Crimm” then in 1x09 Ted says to Rebecca “Watch your back, Kate Moss there’s a new bad girl on the British modelling scene”.  I believe this is a way of twisting the expectation that Rebecca and Ted are going to end up together to have Ted end up with someone similar, but not who people expect.

Final scene of season 2

Ted’s final scene in the whole of season 2 is him with Trent, which is especially interesting as this scene is sandwiched between scenes about the other major romances on the show (the scenes go Rebecca and Sam, then Ted and Trent, then Roy and Keeley). The significance of Ted’s last scene of the whole of season 2 being with Trent can’t really be overstated. Ted Lasso is a show that loves its parallels, and it would’ve been satisfying to have both season 1 and 2 end with Ted and Rebecca having a debrief about the season in her office, but season 2 instead breaks this expectation by having the scene between Ted and Trent after this.

Trailer/last episode release dates

The trailer for season 3 was released on Valentine’s Day, which was likely a deliberate choice hinting that this season will include more romance. As well as this, the last episode airs the day before pride month, which, although less likely to be deliberate, is also an… interesting coincidence.

The Trent trailer

In the run-up to season 3, Apple TV released a sort of trailer/teaser thing on their website featuring Trent narrating the events of early season 1. This is a very strange video- it was released shortly before season 3 but doesn’t contain any new footage apart from Trent’s voiceover and a couple of shots of Trent’s desk, so it’s not really a trailer. It’s also not a summary- it doesn’t contain any information about season 2, or even the events of season 1. It’s also not spoiler-free though- it includes many shots from late season 2 that give away the plot and even has Trent sign off as “Trent Crimm, independent”. So what on earth was this video made for? And why is it displayed on the website with this photo, of all things, as the icon?

I don’t have the answers to those questions. But what I can say is that this video gives off very rom-com journalist falls for main character vibes. And seems to exist for no other reason than to have Trent wax lyrical about Ted for 3 minutes.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

In their last scene of season 2, Trent tells Ted that he doesn't know how to ride a bike, which seems to me to be a very deliberate hint that at some point in the series we’ll get him learning to ride. We know episode 6 is set in Amsterdam, aka the bike capital of the world, and during this episode the song Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head plays, which also plays during a bicycle riding scene in the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. As well as this, Paul Newman and Robert Redford, who play the titular characters of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, are referenced in 3x03 and 3x04, respectively, so it would make a lot of sense for episode 6 to have a romantic bike riding scene referencing the film, definitely with Trent in and most likely with Ted there too. On top of this, the film has a lot of queer subtext, which makes it all the more interesting that it’s referenced in season 3 and most likely referenced in a scene between Ted and Trent. Thanks to @crimmcast for bringing this connection to my attention!

11:11 wishes

At the beginning of 3x02, Ted states that 11:11 is his wishing time, and then at exactly 11:11 in the episode, Ted says "Trent Crimm is writing a book about us". While I don't think Ted wished for Trent to write a book about the club since he already knew that was happening, I think that between this and Trent being in the scene where Ted first talks about his 11:11 wishing tradition, Ted’s wishes and Trent are somehow connected. Thanks to this post for pointing this out!

"Goodnight Sport"

Ted says this to Trent at the end of 3x02, and it's significant for a few reasons. Firstly, Ted gives other members of the Diamond Dogs nicknames such as "sweetheart", so this cements Trent's place as part of the group. Secondly, in the scene preceding this, they talk about how sport is an excellent metaphor, after Roy uses it as a metaphor for his relationship with Keeley. This means that, having just used sport as a metaphor for relationships and love, Ted then chooses to apply this word to Trent. Thirdly is the connection to The Great Gatsby, in which Gatsby frequently refers to Nick as “old sport”, with the relationship between Gatsby and Nick often considered to be queer coded.

La Cage aux Folles

Shortly after the first episode of season 3 aired, Apple Music released the playlist, which included all the songs in order in season 3. The final song on the playlist was I am what I am, which is the last song of Act 1 of La Cage aux Folles. La Cage is a musical about a gay couple who run a nightclub, and this song is about Albin refusing to hide his sexuality and go back into the closet. It’s the final song of the show, so if this season follows the precedent set by the previous two and closes with the same character it started with, this song will play over a scene with Ted in it. Apple has recently removed all the songs from the Ted Lasso Season 3 playlist from episodes we have yet to see, which indicates that the playlist probably includes spoilers, which this song, if it’s used as expected, definitely counts as. I’ve seen some people express worries that I am what I am will be misused and that the writers/showrunners may not understand the significance of the song to the queer community and end up using it to express Ted’s acceptance of his mental health or something similar. I severely doubt this- I don’t think a show like Ted Lasso, which so carefully puts in lines that hint at things that happen several seasons later (think the way Roy’s anger at Trent was laid out from the start of season 1), would be so blind as to overlook the cultural significance of the final song used in probably the entire show.

The songs get more romantic after Amsterdam

The songs get considerably more romantic after the Amsterdam episode, and although this could technically be for other couples on the show, it’s a CONSIDERABLE increase—over half the songs post-Amsterdam are romantic, which leads me to believe that Ted either gets into a relationship or things ramp up romantically during/after Amsterdam. Technically, this piece of evidence isn't specifically for Tedependent, but more for Ted having some sort of relationship in S3.

The infamous James Lance interview

These are some quotes from an interview James Lance did after season 2 had just finished airing. I try not to read too much into what actors say in interviews as it can easily be misinterpreted, but his insistence that there’s “something there” in the way Trent looks at Ted as well as that there is something about Trent, to do with Ted, that is yet to be revealed in season 3 is certainly intriguing. He also refuses to answer whether Trent is gay or not. I feel like this is most likely because if viewers knew about Trent’s sexuality, the Colin outing storyline would not be as compelling, as knowing for sure that Trent is gay would essentially rule out him outing Colin.

Season 3 is far more queer than the previous seasons

Season 3 is considerably more queer than the seasons before it, and not just because of the Colin storyline. Concepts like changing your name being integrated into episodes (although I hate Zava and have a lot of opinions about the Zoreaux/Van Damme storyline), Zava’s line about gender being a construct, and even Ted correcting Rebecca about West Ham in the first episode (which, although Ted is technically correcting her on using they/them as a plural pronoun and not singular, is still very queer coded) all make this season have a lot more queer undertones. As well as this, Ted has had multiple… suspicious lines this season. His comment in episode one about the “muscular thighs” of rugby players, telling Beard/Roy to “just KISS”- Ted this season so far has been far more overtly queer coded than in previous seasons.

Height as a metaphor for masculinity

This point isn’t entirely about Ted and Trent themselves, but rather an interesting thought I had about the season’s portrayal of height so far. We’ve had both Ted and Trent comment on other men’s heights—"He’s tall" and "You’re tall" respectively—as well as Nate, whose masculinity was constantly undermined throughout his time at Richmond seen struggling to reach the believe poster. Both Beard and Roy laugh at Nate’s struggles, two men who are confident in their own masculinity, but Ted and Trent do not, as men who, in Ted’s words, have had “guys underestimating me my entire life”. Neither Ted nor Trent are particularly short, and their comments about other men’s heights seem a little out of place, but they are both unconventionally masculine, and the men they direct these comments to are the opposite—Zava in particular, as a successful football player, is masculine in the most typical sense. Taking these lines as nods to Ted and Trent’s unconventional masculinity also makes them queer coded, with non-typical presentations of masculinity often synonymous with queer men.

Unconventional families

A big theme in the whole show is family, particularly found family, but this season doubles down on that with the idea of unconventional families coming up a few times in the first few episodes. Ted tells Michelle that "I love our family, no matter what it looks like", and there's also Higgins' joke about the boy and his father, which elicits a few responses about different unconventional families (gay, sperm donor). As well as this, in this interview, Jason talks about Ted finding “another way to go about living this life” and the idea of moving away from the nuclear family structure, which is all very interesting. 🤔🤔

The House in the Cerulean Sea

As I said earlier, I try not to reference things the actors/creators of the show say or do on social media too much because there’s often a big scope for misinterpreting or reading too much into things. That being said, when Jason Sudeikis likes a tweet comparing Ted Lasso to my favourite book ever, I can’t not say something about it! Because wow was that a moment. Embarrassingly, I somehow never noticed the connections between two of my favourite pieces of media until I thought more about it after seeing this tweet, but WOW, are there connections. I’ll try to give as spoiler-free a synopsis as I can… Linus Baker, the main character, is trapped in a morally dubious job that he tells himself is important and something he enjoys, until he gets sent to observe and report on an orphanage run by Arthur Parnassus, who’s very Ted-coded and shows Linus kindness that he’s never encountered before, making him think more about who he is and what he’s doing with his life. If the Trent connections aren’t already blaringly obvious, consider the way Linus starts the story as an observer and over time slowly becomes a part of the narrative. I’ll stop there because I don’t want to get carried away and give spoilers, but the whole book is SO Ted Lasso coded! (Not just in the relationship between Linus and Arthur, but literally the whole book) I really encourage everyone to read it. Also, um… did I mention? It’s basically a slow-burn queer love story between Linus and Arthur.

The Kinks

In 3x02, we get Trent entering the clubhouse to the tune of A Well Respected Man by The Kinks. Later in the show, around episode 11, Strangers plays, which is another Kinks song. This is a romantic song, and considering the Kinks are already connected to Trent through his entrance in episode 2, this song could be used for a moment between Ted and Trent.

Robert Redford

After Trent shows the coaches the security footage of Nate ripping the believe sign, Ted says to him “May a young Robert Redford portray you in a film someday”, and Trent responds, “Probably Dustin Hoffman”. This is in reference to All the President’s Men, a film about journalists uncovering the Watergate scandal, where Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman play the main two journalists of the film. The strange thing about this line is that Ted decides to compare Trent to Robert Redford, pictured here on the right, despite him clearly looking much more like Dustin Hoffman, especially with the hair. By comparing Trent to Robert Redford, Ted is essentially saying “Hey, I think this incredibly attractive man should play you in a movie!”. And if that isn’t a gay thing to say, I don’t know what is.

PART 2 - Conclusion

I’ve talked almost exclusively so far in this post about connections between specific lines and other character’s arcs/pop culture references and mostly avoided analysing the chemistry and compatibility between Ted and Trent themselves. This is because I wanted to present as solid evidence as I could, and things like romantic glances are far more subjective and up for interpretation. Something that can seem romantic to one person can be seen as completely platonic by someone else. That being said, I do think the two of them have a lot of chemistry, and their arcs fit together so well: Ted as someone who often hides his feelings and puts on a mask of positivity, and Trent as someone who can see through people’s masks and get to what they really mean. They have had a few romantic moments as well: their last scene of season 2, as well as at the end of 3x02, which both contain lingering looks, and the latter is literally overlaid with a romantic song. As well as this, they just get each other; Trent understands and responds accordingly to every single reference Ted throws at him, and he even enjoys his puns (in contrast to Sassy’s denial of Ted in which she cites his “dreadful puns”). The two of them work so well together, and it would be so beautiful to see a queer middle-aged love story, especially if it tells the story of discovering your sexuality later in life.

The idea of Nate’s downfall was hinted at in season 1 with a few lines and subtle moments, not enough for a casual viewer to notice the first time around but just enough to see it clearly laid out on a retrospective rewatch. We have a lot of season 3 left to go, and a lot of reveals are still yet to be… revealed, likely ones that will be just as surprising as Nate’s downfall was but will, like Nate’s arc, have had just as much subtle set up. Set up like referencing Shakespearian romantic comedies, or building up the idea of wishes at 11:11, or references to unconventional families, or drawing parallels between one relationship and another, or slowly introducing more queer concepts into the show, or referencing one of the most famous romantic drama movies of all time, or—you get the gist. No one can say for sure whether Tedependent will become canon, but it’s undoubtable that the setup is there. Whether the show will actually have the balls to go for it... only time will tell.

Thank you for reading :)

Before I go... In no particular order a huge thank you to @thedanceronthestreets, @crenttrimm, @garaksrod, @firefam, @mandiffe, @wrong-energy, @ishouldbedoingalright and @strawberryswords (as well as others I've probably missed!!) tysm for listening to my delusions and sharing all of your own <3

[diorgirl444]

hiiii, i just stumbled upon your blog and i would LOVE a matchup (i tried doing them once on my page and i realised i suck at it lmao, so i admire that u can write them so nicely )

as for who - id love to be paired with someone from hp universe, any era<3

anywayyyy, im really bad at talking about myself but ill try my best

im an intj, my sun sign is aquarius, 5’6”, im a girl and i go by she/her, im bisexual but id rather be paired with a guy (if you choose a girl its fine as well)

i have blue eyes, short wavy/curly hair, currently dyed red, im pale as fuck (im literally allergic to the sun), curvy and i have lots of tattoos. my style is very inconsistent, i dress comfy but at the same time kinda goth-ish, alternative? i wear black 99% of the time, lots of silver jewellery, i have my nose pierced too:p i also wear glasses

i am very creative, i paint and draw most of the time. occasionally i write fanfics but then i have long breaks because i get burned out really easily. im lazy, which is not so good, but at the same time i mostly get things done. i am a huge animal lover, i have 2 cats and 3 dogs. im an introvert but when im with my closest friends my extravert side comes out. im a huge people pleaser, sometimes its not good for me but i cant help it. my love language is physical touch and acts of service.

i love art, art galleries, old cemeteries, greek mythology, the sky and sunflowers. i also adore the forest and just nature in general. im obsessed with pretty little shiny rocks.

i hate people who have a problem with minorities and are just nasty beings towards others and animals. i also hate spiders and insects of any kind, thats why i will never set my foot in australia.

oh and i also dont like kids. i dont have this “gift” or whatever. i dont know how to talk to them, how to act around them and how to play with them.

as for my aesthetic? i have no idea, but id go for dark academia/gothic vibes.

if you need to know anything else just dm me! xx and thank you in advance, have a lovely night/day! <33

your perfect matchup is 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 💌

𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 <3

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝟐 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 <3

the first time james sees you he’s completely speechless. you’re chatting with marlene about something in class, absentmindedly playing with your hair and he’s just gulping like a fish. because where have you been all his life? truly the universe has been so cruel in keeping you from him!

but he’s suddenly shy. james has had plenty of luck with girls. he’s a flirt by nature. he knows all the right things to say, the ways to sweep them off their feet. that is before he saw you… he’s now well and truly tongue tied. he’s literally like lying in bed at night planning what he wants to say to you next time he sees you. spoiler alert he just gets scared and watches you from across the great hall like this 🧍

but finally he pulls himself together and approaches you the next time he sees you. you’re sat in the back of the library on a window seat reading through a book you found which explains how the greek gods were actually early forms of wizards and witches, very interesting stuff you know? you don’t even notice him lingering over you till he sort of awkwardly coughs and asks “would you recommend it? the - the book i mean would you recommend it?” he asks and he can feel heat creeping up his neck as you nod and smile up at him. “tell me about it!” he practically spits out in the next second. he’s so embarrassing i love him

you agree because he’s cute and everyone’s always talking about what a nice boy james potter is to you. of course you don’t know that they only do that you because they see the way james looks at you but hey what you don’t know can’t hurt you? so you move along on your seat and james shuffles in beside you. the first thing you notice is how he smells like cinnamon, oranges and something slightly earthy that is just so james. the next thing you notice is the way his knee and his shoulder press against yours on the small window seat. it’s warm and intimate and you feel flustered as you start to explain the greek myths to him. he watches you as you speak, watches the way your lashes brush your cheek, watches the way your lips move as you talk.

it’s nice to just be listened to for a change so this becomes your pattern. you see a side to james in these afternoon reading sessions that very few people are privy too. the normally loud and cocky potter is gentle and polite. happy to just sit and watch you devotedly. he makes it so natural too so you forget that you’re introverted, you tell him what your favourite things, things that make you angry, your hopes, your dreams everything. and in that time you start to fall for him. you can’t help it he’s so easy to love. you try to hide this new discovery but its hard to go from telling james everything to keeping such a huge secret from him and so he notices the absence. he doesn’t know what it is but he knows you’re keeping something and so he’s hurt if he’s honest.

so you avoid him. you can’t face the sad puppy look on his face it cuts you up and so you pretend you don’t see him waiting for you in the library, pretend you don’t hear the tapping on your door, or the notes stuffed in your pocket. because hopefully he’ll get bored move on and you’ll get over him. but james potter is determined and so enamoured by you that he’ll try one last time. and so he hides a book in your room. the book is his diary with the pages from all his time with you bookmarked. in it are lists of your favourite things, tiny sketches of you, details on how he feels about you and he ends it with “vicky darling i don’t know what i did but please know i’m eternally sorry. you’ve made a mess of me, i’d do anything to just see you again. don’t you know i love you? if you feel the same meet me at our window seat. if i don’t see you there i will accept that you truly don’t feel the same and i will leave you be. yours forever, james” you find yourself wiping tears as you read it realising how silly you’ve been.

and so with haste you race to the window seat in the library and when you see him there all anxious and shy your heart aches. “ you’ve made a mess of me too james” you say softly as you sit beside him and his face lights up. “can i make it better?” he asks huskily and you nod. his hands cup your face as he leans in and kisses you. he tastes like maple syrup, he smells like spices and he feels like home. it’s perfect and as he walks you back to your dorm with a promise of a date in hogsmede and a soft kiss to your forehead you feel giddy as you lay down under the covers that night because james potter loves you and you love him.

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 <3

golden retriever bf! + black cat gf! golden retriever bf! + black cat gf! golden retriever bf! + black cat gf! okay but seriously you two are the epitome of this trope. not because you’re mean but because james is so extroverted and you’re not so much i think it matches the two do you perfectly.

he makes you go watch his quidditch games. 😭 im sorry they’re probably so boring so like you sit with marlene and dorcas to try and make it more palatable but it is probably still so dull. if it makes it any better he does loads of fancy tricks on his broom so that you think he’s cool though it does come off a bit pathetic. don’t worry though because at the end he’ll ride his broom over to you and kiss you while standing on it.

your reading thing doesn’t stop it’s just that now when you read to him he’ll have his arm around your waist and his free hand will trace hearts on the small sliver of skin that peaks out there between your uniform skirt and shirt. he doesn’t actually disturb you though because he finds it so relaxing to hear your voice. if you want to stop him and kiss him though he’s not gonna complain.

he loves visiting cemeteries with you. you offhandedly mentioned once how you were gonna visit one, you didn’t invite him though because you were worried he’d think it was weird. but then he sort of shyly asks “can i come too?” and you laugh and nod. the two of you pack a picnic and spend the whole day exploring the graveyard with each other in quite intimacy. your hands constantly intertwined as you walk, pausing to pay your respect and the long-forgotten names of the people who laid there and occasionally saying hello to the few ghosts that lingered there. you came across one pair which were an old couple who said you reminded them of theirselves when they were your age which makes the tips of james’s ear turn red.

he brings you any nice rocks he finds. sirius gives him the weirdest look when the marauders are sneaking around at night and james bends down to pick a stone up that he thinks you’d like but james just grins and shrugs his shoulders saying “my girl likes them. what can you do?” the marauders smile at that. they’ve never seen james look so lovesick - it’s very sweet.

you two have matching necklaces. i don’t know why but i just feel this in my core. you found them at an antique shop and yours is a silver moon james is gold sun. because of it when the two of you are together everyone calls the pair of you “solar eclipse” 😭 even did it once when she was telling your friend group off. she was like “where’s solar eclipse?” sirius absolutely pissed himself laughing about that.

james gets rid of spiders for you but not before teasing you a bit. that’s just the kinda of guy he is i’m sorry. he’ll get them gone though for you don’t you worry but only if you promise to kiss him as a thank you after.

he writes you love letters weekly. you smile on mondays when his owl flies and drops a cream coloured envelope down on your desk written in james’s scrawling hand. in the letter he incloses what his favourite memories of you he has of the past week be that an outfit he thought was really pretty, a song he heard that made him think of you, or a leaf that he pressed from a forest walk that the two of you went on. he adores you so much it’s unbelievable.

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 <3

hope you like it! xoxo, flo <3

[shrekgogurt]

WORDS

This is a sappy creative talking about being creative post. You have been warned. I did not proofread because I am nothing if not consistent in my personality.

I just got done watching Season 2 episodes 3&4 of the FX’s The Bear and I’m constantly inspired by their storytelling. The two episodes I watched really leaned into the creative process in a way that made me very reflective. I am terrible in a kitchen. However, I really saw similar patterns in my own pursuits.

I have a dear friend who studied brains in university and when I was at my lowest a few months ago she was telling me about how life is just skills. Things like IQ are bullshit. Everybody can do anything if they put the time in. It’s about just choosing skills and developing them. I get mad that I can’t draw. I get mad that I can’t play guitar well. Those are skills I’ve never worked on because the process doesn’t bring me joy, even though they are skills I wished I had. Meanwhile things like science or sports are areas I’ve never had much interest in cultivating anyway so the lack of skill doesn’t bother me as much.

I think about my skillset now a lot more. I think about how learning piano—while I’m frustrated by my lack of expertise—doesn’t make me literally cry while I’m learning. I embrace the challenge unlike something like drawing where I get so upset with myself it’s not fun anymore. This past fall while my confidence was totally shot (for a lot of reasons) I looked at my ability to sit at a keyboard and just play the same riffs from Kate Bush’s Wuthering Heights over and over and over and over until I could do them. I learned I could do hard things. That maybe I’m not a total lazy piece of shit who gives up at the first sign of trouble.

And the beautiful thing is? That wasn’t always the case with piano. I’ve dabbled here and there throughout my life but when I first took piano lessons as a kid I HATED them. I didn’t enjoy putting in the work. But I do now because people change. And so maybe one day I will learn to draw but not right now. And that’s okay.

And then I start thinking about singing. There’s this sentiment that people are just naturally gifted, especially at singing. But at least for me that’s not the case. I’m good at singing because as a kid I loved it. I gravitated toward it. I sung all the time to the radio, mimicking the voices I heard. And I listened to SO MUCH music—partially because of my parents but also because I chose to always have the radio or a CD or my trusty mp3 player going. When I was playing with my dolls. When I was riding my bike. When I was in the shower. When I was at dance class. When I was dragged along to my siblings' sports games, I would build worlds while tuned into the nearest iHeartRadio station. (Airplanes feat. Hayley Williams. I loved it. I loved the storytelling. Pt. 1 but oh when the oh so rare Pt. 2 came through over the FM waves it was the best day of my life.)

Eventually, my parents put me into voice lessons. I learned how to sing rather than mimic. (Not that the latter is bad.) But I learned how to use it as an instrument. And I sang and I sang and I sang. In lessons. In choir. In church. That’s why I’m good at singing. It took me forever to learn how to harmonize. I was a soprano—it was always melody. But I’m learning that too as my voice changes. I can’t sing as high as I used to. I haven’t practiced notes off the staff since high school. Life is just skills. I was focusing on different ones. Like film (but we’ll get to that.)

There was something else always there. I don’t know how many people knew it—the extent. You had to live with me to see it…but I loved nothing more than I loved reading. 

I always had my nose in a book. Like a lot of kids who consumed books non-stop it was definitely escapism. But I read and I read and I read. The classic question in my family was “where is Mary?” And the answer was always “in her room.” And if I wasn’t reading a story I was creating one. With my dolls yes, but eventually with my tiny little acer computer and with my thumbs in the notes app on my iPod Touch. (I still maintain that the notes app is where the best art happens.)

It was May in my eighth grade pre-Algebra class when my friend told me what FanFiction was and about how she had an account on good ole fanfiction.net. I made one too. I joined a Divergent roleplaying forum that lasted two months. I started writing a long-abandoned backstory for my character—Antoine, named at intermission of the high school production of West Side Story I was watching. It was bad. But I didn’t know it at the time. I thought I was doing something important and I guess I was.

The Divergent forum didn’t last long but a few months later I would create my own. Welcome to Camp Half Blood! Join in! Make an OC! I brought my friends over from the old forum and even as Admin my authority was immediately usurped. We built worlds. And then we rebuilt them. And then our worlds had baby worlds. Generation 1, Gen 1.5 (you suggest a teen pregnancy plot line as a joke one time while on a choir trip in Yorkshire ONE TIME and then you wake up and uh oh two characters are actually teen pregnant), Gen 2, on and on and on. There’s a whole Google Sheets document. It’s deeply comprehensive and filled with all our faceclaims and timelines and playlists.

We rarely wrote action in our roleplay. We mainly talked. Dialogue and dialogue and dialogue for years. I get compliments now on my dialogue in fics. It didn’t come from nowhere. It came from cringe-y exchanges with my friends as we fell in love with each other’s self inserts over and over and over again. I stayed up on school nights until 2am quietly wheezing only to fall asleep in Algebra 1 over my scribbled cursive poetry on the graph paper. Life is skills. I was choosing which ones to build.

It was never math.

It was stories.

In the singing. In the dance (competition team—burned me out. I was never the best athlete. I was always the most expressive. I was telling the story.) In the theatre. And in the little fan videos I would make with my friends for our OCs over on fanfiction.net.

So my dumbass went to film school. And like with singing I learned about stories. How to craft them. And I wrote bad scripts. And we made bad low budget films. And I was so scared of cameras but I learned how to use them. And I directed and I got good at that especially with documentaries. Looking at all the information and chasing down the story. Telling people who were faster editors than me where to cut. Telling people who could make the camera capture what I saw in my eye what to film. God I fucking loved it. And I miss it.

Because my dumbass went to seminary. Why? Because there were these ancient stories that were really important to me that were being used to harm others. And I wanted to learn them. And I wanted to be able to show that there was a different way than the one that spews hatred. And as Phoebe Bridgers sings I “went looking for a creation myth ended up with a pair of cracked lips.” And I’m figuring all that out still. What to do with these stories that mean so much to me. How to tell them. How to Robin Hood theology.

And as my life and my faith were falling apart. I looked at my tiny little shithole apartment. And how I used to hide in my room where I felt safe. And I made that apartment feel safe. It was my room now. And I walked out to my bookshelf and I saw a book I had bought and opened it up. And on the inside of the cover there was a map just like there was in all the best books from my childhood. So I stayed up until 3am reading it. And then the next night. And the next night. And then I bought the sequel and I read about a boy who thought he was going to be something and then he wasn’t that anymore. And he was lost and angry and self-destructive just like me. But then in the last part of the trilogy he decided at the last second to try to figure it all out. And I’m still trying to do that too.

I had been writing all along—non-fiction. Papers. Essays. (Metas—really.) And I learned how to approach a text. How to analyze it in one million different ways. And I think I took those skills I learned from the Bible and I stuck them on some YA trilogy. And I thought and I thought and I had something to say.

And I wrote. And I keep getting better. Because life is just skills.

So I was watching The Bear and Will Poulter as a baker talks about how he used to see some other baker as competition. Until he decided he wasn’t and instead he just tried to keep up. And I want to keep up. And I watch these television shows and I read your fics and I get so fucking inspired. 

And I look at this stupid fucking soccer fic I love with my whole chest and I think about how life is just skills and they all have led me to be able to write it. And I know that in ten years when I’m 34 I’ll probably think it’s cringey just like I think that what I wrote when I was 14 is cringey. But GOD I’m so proud of it. And I think I always will be.

Because life is just skills and I’m really glad I chose these ones.

TL;DR I’ve never been the best “athlete” (had the best skills in a particular medium) but goddamn if I’m not a good fucking storyteller.

[o0o0thorn0o0o]

Mineko Old Art Dump, Cont.

Part 2 of 2 :

Now, time for info!

So, for starters: her name. As mentioned multiple times by now, her name is Asano Mineko, as in 峯子. Whereas Karma gets his kanji from their mother (my OC Kuniko) and Gakushuu gets his partially from their father, Mineko gets the remaining two from both. I was trying to see if there was a similar “updated” thing with Gakuhou’s second kanji (like how 学 is derived from 學), but that doesn’t seem to be the case from what I could find. So even though I don’t need to explain why they did that for Gakushuu and Mineko, I came up with one anyway: it’s a trade-off. Gakushuu keeps the reading over the exact kanji, and Mineko keeps the exact kanji over the reading (Mineko was always the plan, though; not fond of “Houko”, especially for her).

I also mentioned this before, but since I’m dumping quite a bit of info about her here, I’ll mention it once more: Mineko’s the middle child, with her birthday being January 1st, just like her younger brother. In these AUs, Karma could be born on the same day, or he could still be born on Christmas—both ways are possible, though I have a slighter preference for the former for some reason.

Before I get into her personality a little, lemme explain some of the drawings. Only some things. The rest will definitely be mentioned in a character sheet—or before: if I happen to draw it again before it gets done, I’ll probably talk about it at least a bit. Let’s go in order now, shall we?

So, um, height? Mineko’s tall, but idk, I feel like I made her too tall in that Until Dawn AU sketch (she’s not in the AU officially, but I do think about her in it from time to time. And jeez, I need to post about that AU some more…). Either that, or I made Rio too short. Like, idk, year 3 Mineko is 5’6” (167 cm), and she’ll be 5’8” (172 cm) at her tallest.

Second: er, you know that sketch that looks like she’s holding a large ice cream cone in a weird way? Uh, yeah, that’s supposed to be a telescope ^^;;; I just never got around to adding the tripod… or, like, referencing an actual telescope instead of from memory, oops. I might actually turn that into a proper post, but no plans as of the moment. But yeah, anyway: Mineko loves astronomy, and one of her favorite hobbies is star-gazing.

Another one of her favorites that I feel like mentioning now, too, is she loves listening to and composing music—mainly instrumentals/orchestral music. She’s the kinda girl you’d invite to an opera, haha (though, not romantically; she’s aroace. The main reason why this is is because I did not want to end up making an OC to pair with her (this has happened multiple times before with others, so this is a way of me putting my foot down with her, haha). That, and it kinda references the fact that at some point in time I headcanoned Karma and Gakushuu as aroace. Though, I still do personally see them being somewhere on the spectrum. But yeah, she aroace).

Then that one sketch where the art style’s very different from the rest—I’m actually not too fond of it anymore, especially the face, but I thought to include because I like the rest of the sketch and especially because—you know that art style I dub my doodle style? The one where the nose connects to the upper lip, and if the mouth’s open, I add a bottom lip? The one I introduced Mineko in? Yeah, fun fact: this sketch was the start of that art style. It’s changed a lot since, but perhaps I wouldn’t have drawn in it were it not for Mineko, haha.

Last thing before I get to her personality and stuff: I’ll mention something about the traditional sketches. Idk if you can tell, but Mineko is a huge junk-foodie—a sucker for fast food. She still keeps track of healthy food, for the most part—but yeah, she’d never turn down fast food, haha. Also, regarding the water: she’s more likely to casually see food in a “romantic light” than she ever is people, haha.

Speaking of, I headcanon both Karma and Gakushuu as good cooks—they can whip up something decent, at least, haha. Mineko on the other hand has no such interest. She’s got her brothers, after all. She doesn’t see a reason to… until she grows up, and her brothers are living their lives, and she realizes she’s got no one to cook for her anymore… Welp, fast food and restaurants have never left her down before, haha.

Ok, now I’ll finally discuss her personality a bit… well, traits? I wanna talk about her intelligence first. She’s a very smart girl, being in 3-A, but she’s not as smart as her brothers and has to try harder to somewhat be on the same level grade-wise—definitely not touching the virtuosos, but 3-A all the same. She also participates in extracurriculars but not nearly as many as Gakushuu—she can only handle so much.

But while she knows she may not have as high an IQ as her brothers, she very much believes she has a higher EQ than them. And to her credit, she does, but probably not by nearly as much as she thinks. See, she’s emotionally repressed, too—don’t let that smile fool you, haha.

For one, she doesn’t like conflict and does her best to smooth things over when/if she can, play the middle man (she likes to think of herself as a bridge, connecting two conflicting sides (especially her brothers; she also likes to say that’s the reason why she’s shorter than them, as (certain types of) bridges tend to dip below the two points they’re connecting, haha. Just a silly thought she likes to muse)). She likes fixing conflicts but would never intentionally start any. Cautious of stepping on toes.

That’s always why she tries her best to plaster on a smile regardless of how she feels—everything’s fine, don’t you know? She’s completely happy with her circumstances; don’t ever worry otherwise! She should be more worried about you than you about her! But yeah, she’ll either only let it slip should a situation get too stressful that she can’t keep it up or if she believes she’s all by herself. All that said, she’s usually fine. Usually. It’s just… when she isn’t…

Also, this girlie’s got major trust issues and is a misanthrope (Gakuhou’s her dad; enough said). She does believe that, of course, not all of humanity is bad. It’s just… she doesn’t trust individuals, especially the more friendly seeming ones. She’s been raised in a family of masks, adorning one herself, so she has no clue whether someone is being genuinely kind or not. It’s just easier for her not to trust them rather than be let down. Everyone’s got hidden agendas, it seems.

And while she’s friendly and polite to everyone regardless of her suspicions—even when there’s blatant evidence she’s right. Because she wants to be kind and helpful regardless. And again, she kinda believes most are like that anyway. Proof is just more of a confirmation of something she believes already—and while most would find her company agreeable, she currently doesn’t have any friends outside her brothers. And nor does she care to. She doesn’t see what she’s missing. Why would you hang out with someone who’s potentially fake? While helpful, she tries to make herself scarce whenever she can.

But yeah, the only way she’ll ever make friends is through a whole lot of interaction; she needs to be able to build up that trust and feel safe. Being close to her brothers is a good start, but she’ll still be wary for a good while. Not something easy, essentially, and could take years. Hence, no friends as of the moment.

Er, yeah, I guess that’ll be all I’ll share for the moment. Ended up being a lot longer than I thought, but I don’t feel like cutting anything either. So yeah; here is she! I adore her, so I hope you like her, too, or find her interesting at least ^^

I feel like you know about her more than the other OCs I’ve already revealed when they’ve been out for a couple years now. Oops ^^;;

[vole-mon-amour]

3x10, a mix of everything, part 2.

Rebecca is Keeley's best friend. and Jack is a fucking liar. what the hell is going on this season? especially with Keeley's plotline?

Roy & Keeley holding hands and Jamie walking in the room? hello?

on the other point, Keeley deserves better than constantly pushing people around her on their way to growth. first Jamie (which, fine, it was necessary and he did all the work by himself and came out beautifully). then Roy (that I presume will realise his mistake and will become better and such). still, can Keeley finally have some happiness and sense of confidence and self-worth that doesn't depend on her love life and personal relationships?

people keep thinking about Jamie being the matchmaker for ot3, but to me rn it looks like it's gonna be Keeley. and i'm not sure if I like that they're using a woman to do that.

This is nice. I like this. Something about Keeley being Richmond's football team best friend and finally making it to Mae (while Ted and Beard been visiting her place since the day they arrived to UK).

Red Right hand while Roy walks in the building? I have Peaky Blinders flashbacks. an interesting use of that song, for sure.

I want what Ted and Beard have.

same, Trent, same. maybe this is gonna be Roy's colorful awakening era.

somebody save them.

it's not the first time we see Isaac with an earring, but we don't label him bisexual the way we do with Jamie. it's the attitude, really.

this is not even funny. how are they not supposed to be romantic? how? i don't even ship them you just rub this under my nose. platonic after the matchbook and supposed to be a mother? what IS this? i seriously have questions to the writers. can they make up their mind? bc one is gives to her by an ex lover and one is given to her by, according to writers, her brother from another mother. all i keep seeing is how they keep connecting Ted and Rebecca and not in a platonic way. there's no romantic chemistry between them for me, especially this season, but hello???? WHAT? IS? THIS? what are they trying to achieve?

you tell them.

rainbow <3

oh, don't start with that, as if it sends Roy on some righteous path back to Keeley. "hope it didn't cost too much" i'm so tired of that plotline.

Keeley is such a sweetheart and deserves so much better.

this is so bad. i feel for Rebecca.

oh, fuck off. not a good look is a room full of rich men that can make an influence but choose not to. even decide to charge more. and if we're talking politics for some reason, have you also seen other nations' government? even the mess that happens in UK, where you live? seriously, fuck off and take P*tin with you, maybe then it'll start looking better.

she learned that from Trent & you can't convince me otherwise. i LOVE the parallel. QUEEN.

POV: you're an only woman in the room of white rich old cis men and a black one. ew.

she gets it now. the power of Ted Lasso and Coach Beard.

i'm not sure what they're doing there with Rupert. redemption arc through Rebecca's words? why? forgiveness? also why? Rupert and Rebecca laughing together? what is going onnn??? AND then Rebecca hanging back Hockney aka the drawing Rupert gifted her? i'm confused.

"we just borrow them for a while" hello?? they keep connecting Rebecca to Ted???

i was screaming a lot of NO's as Rupert went for a kiss. I'm glad Rebecca stopped it. i was seriously scared for that moment. what a shitty person he is. you can never have that wonderful woman again. suffer and die in suffering, bitch.

no way Keeley has a glass wall in her bathroom???? also, what's with both of her exes coming to her house instead of calling, texting and facing her face to face? why ot3 if not ot3?

*peels my face off with skin and muscle* if you're not adding Jamie to that, I swear to the Outsider—

hell yeah <3

you suuuure?

[a-very-fond-farewell]

15 questions, 15 people:

I was tagged by the lovely @lienwyn 💕 hi dear. thank you for the opportunity to overshare 😈🔥 (also, you own a loom?? amazing flex. I’m honestly jealous ahah. and the dog-longing word?? 🥺 heartwarming 😔💕 I feel you on the pain in the back tho, that must have been quite intense for you to have such a reaction. big hugs 💜)

here we go!

-

1. are you named after anyone?

unfortunately yes, but it was a mistake. my parents thought the name was elegant.. little did they know a historical figure had it too ahah

2. when was the last time you cried?

so. weird thing. I cry when I see animals. or when I look at people and go “........ earthlings just like me <3”. or when I think too much about how much I love my people. but spontaneous, SAD crying......? not sure. Ik I’ve been down recently, yeah. but if I start crying it’s the end for me. I end up with a stuffy nose all night, if I do. (my hand recently had me seeing stars tho, ngl)

3. do you have kids?

I’m glad I don’t.

4. do you use sarcasm a lot?

I try not to IRL bc you never know how smart people can be. in the sense that I used to use it when I was younger and people smarter than me called me out for it enough times to make me lose any interest in it. I’m also not really good at knowing when someone is being sarcastic with me, period. so.. yeah. not really. no.

5. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

I’m oblivious. I’m so oblivious I don’t even notice large scars on their faces or the color of their eyes sometimes?? from afar I’m quite proficient at reading people’s mood tho?? like, if they are belligerent or not?? is that a thing?? also I can hear them before I can see them almost all the time. I’m a bat, I can hear everything.

6. what’s your eye color?

green? possibly? I have a colorblind mother who tells me they’re blue tho. but she might be convinced of that only because she sees her own eyes as gray when they are green. so I’m not sure about that. my dad tells me we have the same eye color..........but that’s not true. like. his are blue-blue. mine are not like that at all.

fun fact, I love dark eyes. keep talking, gorgeous, I’m not gonna argue with someone with beautiful big brown eyes.

7. scary movies or happy endings?

I’m a scaredy-cat :( I wish I could watch scary movies tho. that seems so much fun! so imma stick to happy endings for now, yes.

8. any special talents?

I craft? a lot? oh but I want to learn woodcarving *-* that would be so much fun. and I guess I’m semi-proficient in the Dad-Art of “collecting weirdly-shaped objects that will eventually come in handy to slot somewhere when they are needed”. yeah :D

9. where are you born?

in the bog. the foggy countryside. the cul-de-sac. but also. northern italy.

10. what are your hobbies?

felt punching, drawing, writing, nagging people, watching old detective shows, reading, petting cats, telling dogs they are good bois (or good girls!), cleaning cupboards, researching, taking notes, horror vacui, listening to people tell me all about their special interests, naps.

11. do you have any pets?

parents have 2 dorky kitties. I long for a silky anteater or a lobster tho. a fat loaf of a cat to call mine would be nice too one day tho, yes.

12. what sports do you/have you played?

I was pretty good at crab soccer when I was younger. and I liked skiing. ;-; too expensive for me where I lived tho.

13. how tall are you?

166cm (5’5??)

14. favourite subject in school?

Dante :) no but fr, italian literature and english. German was cool too, but now I can’t remember any of it :(

15. dream job?

I’m considering either sheparding or...... are there non-religious monasteries out there? that aren’t sects or cults? tax-free, honest labor? no? just me? ok. no but fr, restoring old furniture or working in a library. but I don’t have the qualifications for either of those unfortunately.

it’s time to open that lobster sanctuary of my dreams then 😤 that will cure me.

-

here we go! thank you for the lovely game! Imma tag......... idt I have 15 peeps to tag. but I’ll tag some, in case they want to join (or simply to snoop around my business, always nice to be seen :) no pressure to play): @goaheadandflysomeplane , @fismoll7secinv , @shhhsoftnwet , @kinslayersadvocate , @sssrha , @thepointlessmasterpiece !

[casspurrjoybell-20]

FOOLS Fall - Chapter 2 - Part 1

BOOK TWO: The 'Fools Fall in Love' Trilogy

*Warning - Adult Content*

Noah Wright

School sucked without Sam and my friends from High school and the constant essays and bullshit homework sucked even more.

I really didn't know how I got into UIC but it does make sense that I was in the beginner class for math and English.

I did, however like my Art class.

I was in an Art class every year in high school and even middle school, so I thought I'd continue in college.

I'd say I was moderately good at Art but when I stepped foot into my Art classroom and checked out all the other Art pieces, I realized I was a shit Artist.

So, yeah, college fucking sucked but, Sam would be there next year and though I was not really social, there were plenty of students in my classes that came up and talked to me.

Like Dinah.

She was in my Art Drawing I class.

I always got there before her and had my easel up by the time she entered class.

Dinah moved a stool closer to where I was stationed and set up her own easel to a proper height for her.

"Hey," she greeted me as she sat down.

I nodded as my greeting.

Again, more of an introvert.

Dinah talked almost the whole time during class, besides when our professor spoke but I didn't really mind because she never expected me to talk back.

Until I glanced at her sketchbook.

My eyes widened.

"Holy shit, Dinah. Why are you in this class? You should be in an advanced class," I told her in awe.

We were only drawing a bowl of fruits that laid on the table in the middle of the class room but damn, her drawing looked more real than the bowl of fruit itself.

She laughed.

"You have to start in Drawing I, unfortunately," she shrugged then looked at mine.

"Hey, what are you talking about? Yours is good,too."

I rolled my eyes.

"Now you're just being nice."

She chuckled again.

"No, I'm serious."

I didn't believe her.

I mean, I thought my drawing was good but mine didn't compare to hers.

We soon had to clean up and when Dinah had her station cleared, as did I, she spoke with excitement.

"Hey, my boyfriend's having a party on Halloween, you should totally come and bring your boyfriend. His name was Sam, right? You two are so adorable," Dinah gushed and didn't give me a chance to respond to her invitation.

"Sorry again for flirting with you, I didn't know you had a boyfriend you were exclusive with," Dinah said shyly with an embarrassed expression and yet, she herself, had a boyfriend.

"No need to apologize," I shrugged, swinging my backpack over my shoulder.

"Like you said, you didn't know."

"There's a lot Dinah doesn't know," a low voice teased from behind me.

I turned around.

A guy stood near me with a soft smile.

He had perfectly styled, gelled blonde hair.

Light hazel eyes and a small nose.

He was about the same height as me, if not an inch shorter and he wasn't in that Art class, so he must've just walked in.

"I know more than you do," Dinah claimed, matter-of-factly.

"That might be true," the guy chuckled then held out his hand for me.

"Hello. I'm Jude," he introduced himself, as his eyes scanned my body.

He was completely obvious about it.

I gave him a short nod.

"Noah," and I shook his hand.

"Noah. Hmm, I like that name," Jude smiled flirtatiously.

"Thanks. So does my boyfriend," I said with a dry, monotone voice, hoping to shut down this guy's coy attitude.

It didn't.

He chuckled, laying a hand on my shoulder.

"Chill. You're pretty but I have a girlfriend."

"Do you always call the people, you've just meet, pretty?" I asked, an eyebrow raised at him.

Who the fuck did this guy think he was?

I mentioned my boyfriend and he still called me pretty?

Jude shrugged but still had a teasing grin.

"I didn't call my girlfriend pretty, when I first met her."

"Piss off," Dinah said but it seemed it was harmless banter.

Jude laughed before pulling her to him and kissing her.

'Oh.'

His hand moving down to her ass and tongue shoved him her mouth.

'Jeez.'

My eyebrows raised.

"So you're the said girlfriend," I put together as they pulled away from each other.

Jude was just messing with me.

It was weird after I figured out I was also attracted to guys, I never knew when they were flirting with me or just messing with me.

Jude had his arm around Dinah as she said...

"Since freshman year of high school," she grinned and I wondered if her boyfriend knew how much she flirted with me.

Though they seemed like the type of couple that weren't as exclusive as they might say.

"But anyway, you should come to Jude's Halloween party and bring Sam."

Then Dinah turned to Jude and explained that...

"Sam's Noah's boyfriend."

Jude looked at me.

"Yeah, definitely bring your boyfriend and whoever," he told me with a toothy grin.

Halloween was three weeks away and landed on a Saturday night, which would be perfect for Sam to come out.

"Alright. Thanks."

"Also, a couple people are coming over to my dorm tonight to drink, you should come," Dinah invited me.

Her tone was just as friendly as her smile.

I'd rather lay in bed but maybe it would be good to make some friends while I was at school.

I shrugged.

"Yeah, okay. What building are you in."

"Awesome, I'm in..." Dinah started until Jude cute her off.

"Just give me your number," he stepped closer to me.

"I'll text you time and place and everything."

I pulled out my cell-phone and handed it to him.

Jude gave me back my phone a moment later with his contact punched in.

He texted himself 'Noah' so he'd have my number.

"I'll text you," Jude told me.

********

My next class got canceled, so I was able to go home early.

I was laying in bed when I thought about calling Sam but remembered he still had school.

I checked the time on my phone, he was probably beginning lunch soon.

Sam preoccupied my mind constantly, especially with not being able to see him.

It was a different feeling, loving someone as strongly as I did Sam.

I never thought it was possible beyond the way I loved my ex-girlfriend but I realized the way I loved her couldn't compare to the way I loved Sam and Sam loved me all the same.

It was surreal.

I sighed.

I was laying in my bed, scrolling through various social medias, when I checked the time.

I had about three hours until Sam got out of school.

Then I was sure he would need at least two hours to do homework 'even if it wasn't due the following day'.

So roughly five hours until I could talk to him.

My apartment felt lonely without Sam which made me feel lonely.

I saw him the day before and I already missed him.

I missed talking to him and laying with him and touching him and kissing him.

'Ugh, what I wouldn't give to have him next to me right now.'

A thought struck me because then I felt horny thinking about all the things I'd do to him.

I stood up and went to the bathroom.

I stripped out of my clothes and when I was ready, I sent Sam a picture of my naked body.

Sam read it instantly and I wondered what expression he made when he saw the picture.

I could only imagine him blushing.

I laid back down in bed and typed out a message to go along with my picture before sending it.

And then, of course, I got off while thinking about Sam.

Fuck, I missed him.

Naughty, naughty 😈

[pantherinaeee]

trust the mirror, not the cameras - megathread part 2

in r/infp i posted some screenshorts from videos, saying that i look better in screenshots than in selfies. here are the coments...

YYY

I'm gonna try this too. I believe I look absolutely horrid in selfies and pictures. But in the mirror, I love my face structure and features; but I don't know for certain what people see, so it makes me feel insecure lol.

I think it might be the lighting on your pics that makes you feel that way, because I think you look the same. But honestly you look extremely attractive and cool in all of them. And that's something I very rarely say or admit to anyone.

PANTHERINAEEE

omg, thank you so much!! 🥹😭

All the images I posted are screenshots; I haven't posted any comparison selfies, haha. But I was really touched by your compliment. 🥹

And I have an answer to your question - actually, it's a long thread. I talked more deeply about this with someone else here in the comments if you'd like to read. [part 1]

Basically, cellphone lenses cause VERY high distortion to our faces, so never trust selfies; what you see in the mirror is what matters!

To give you an idea, a lens that doesn't distort your face much would have to be 2 - 5 meters away from you. So just imagine how round (like a fish eye) your cellphone camera needs to be to frame you from such a close distance.

Moreover, cellphones have a resolution capable of processing more information than our eyes/brain. Often, you can see lines of expression in the camera that you can't see with the naked eye.

So, don't feel bad if you don't look good in photos; you are beautiful just as you see yourself in the mirror! 💕

To get a sense of this, ask someone to take a serious front-facing photo of your face with the 1x lens on your cellphone, then ask them to step back and take a photo with the 3x lens. You'll see how absurdly different it looks!

Finally, I think I look better in videos because I have natural expressions. When someone takes a photo of me, I automatically tense my facial muscles unintentionally. Our expressions and how we communicate say A LOT about our image, even influencing our features. My mom took a visagism course, and this was a major point of attention when analyzing someone's facial characteristics!

YYY

Oh, I thought the comparison photos were mixed in lol. I was looking at them and thinking, "hmm... yeah I don't see a difference." [striked to focus on the central subject] You're welcome on the compliment. I almost never compliment strangers. Not to be weird, but I truly rarely see an actual beautiful woman in general out in public or even on social media lol. And I would see a lot when I'm out in public. Most women, I don't really see any "highlighting" features about them, and dont see anything that draws my attention(not saying their ugly). If at most, only maybe 1 or 2 max highting features, but thats rare. But I see about 5 highlighting features on you. Your thick eyebrows, your eyes, high cheek bones, your nose shape, and lips. Just, wow. Then also your hair color and style looks awesome. And youre also an INFP personality type just the same as the most interestesting celebrities; Johnny Depp, Robert Smith(The Cure), Morrissey, Heath Ledger, Ian Curtis(Joy Division), Kurt Cobain, Jim Morrison, John Lennon, Edger Allen Poe, Björk, etc. Like really, who's cooler than these INFP celebrites? Lol We have the coolest personality type. So you have both the looks AND the personality. You look like you were crafted by Tim Burton. If you have any insecurities about your looks would be the same if like Ian Somerhalder/Damon Salvatore from The Vampires Diaries Season 1 had insecurities about his appearance and style. I would truly be surprised if you were in slightest bit insecure about your appearance.

Ok. Also, Thank you for the compliment. It really did make me feel better and in a way, made me feel a little validated haha.

It was a lot of very interesting information you've shared. My knowledge on photos and the drastic effects in has if not taken from the right distance and lens was almost nonexistent. I thought all cameras were just bad and avoided them haha. But this definitely sheds new light and aspires me more to start post myself on social media. For the longest time, I almost never posted a picture of myself on any social media at all (maybe only twice) because of how insecure I felt in photos. Of course I would never tell anyone my insecurities lol, but when I posted my photo online somewhere I would get compliments and women would be a lot nicer to me, and that would confuse me severely and made me question their motives haha.

I think I know what you mean about the facial expressions and how even tensing the muscles a little can alter a person's appearance. There was this colleague I used to see regularly. I noticed this person with an extremely blank relaxed facial expression would always stare directly at me and "follow" when I would walk by in the vicinity. This went on for months and this person's face was always the same impassive expression. I thought it would be funny to walk up to this person with the same expression and just tell a dry joke in a bored tone and see if I can make them laugh lol. I saw them one day, and I walkled directly towards them with the same facial expression and they were just staring at me all bored walking up to them. I told my joke and we would stare in each other's eyes with a blank relaxed expression and once they understood the joke I told; I saw their eyes, face, and neck area tense up a little for a second before turning their head to audibly laugh quietly and hide their face. But in that one second moment, their face looked drastically different. It was at that time I learned how "telling" micro facial expressions can be. And I've been getting okay at reading them haha.

But thank you very much for all of the information you've shared. I'm now interested in experiementing with camera lens and distance. I feel I might even be open to posting myself online now. I might even pick up photography.

PANTHERINAEEE

(...) [removed to focus on the central subject]

About the lenses, it’s not just a matter of distance. I mentioned this because cell phone lenses are 24mm (the iPhone 15 Pro Max has lenses of 24mm, 28mm, and 35mm) and the lenses that cause the least distortion range from 50-80mm, with 80mm being the most accurate. As these lenses have a smaller field of view, meaning they zoom in on the image, to take a portrait, you need to stand far from the camera.

Despite this, even the 24mm lens takes better photos when we move away from the camera! And we can also take photos with the 35mm lens. The 35mm lens makes our faces look rounder haha, but I think it’s much better than the 24mm.

Message me in the DM, and I’ll send you comparisons!

SHORT YOUTUBE VIDEO

LONG YOUTUBE VIDEO

[pa1nkill3r]

"Now How Come I've Only Found Out About This Now?" [G.W]

[Pairing:] George Weasley x Fem!Artist!Reader

[Summary:] So far, George Weasley knows three things about his new potions partner; So why not make it four? Or five?

[Warnings:] use of mudblood, a bit of angst, a bit of swearing, a pov change at some point in the end, idk-- fluff?? (is that a warning??)

[Word Count:] ≈2.7k

[A/N:] i used @buckystrenchcoat 's fluff plots for george weasley: 2. George finding out you can draw (kind of got carried away but oh well :D--) (ps just imagine that classes in hogwarts includes all of the houses together, thanks <3) Y/H = your house. (dk the timeline or what year george and the reader are in but i'd say between 3rd-5th year)

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The Weasley twins were becoming reckless and apparently, Professor Snape has had enough. The constant explosions on the other side of the dungeon and the numerous attempts at drowning his hair with shampoo has eventually led him to the decision of assigning the entire class their partners.

Thus halfway into the semester, the Weasley twins are never to be seen together again... that is until the end of 2nd period where they will go back and cause mischief elsewhere.

Fred was assigned to a Slytherin girl who George couldn't figure out if she's madly in love with his brother or wants to rip out his guts. While he on the other hand was assigned with Y/N. Truthfully, he never gave much thought to her, but after their first double potions lesson as partners, he began to wonder why he never gave much thought to her.

She was smart but never overbearing, made jokes here and there, sniggered when he made even the cheesiest of puns, and is wicked attractive. Their first task was to brew a calming draught and whilst adding in a smidge more of lavender, she proposed that they should make more while the majority of the class was still struggling.

"Why in Merlin's beard are we going to make more? We can just pass this and leave class early?" He asked, bringing a smile to her lips. "Yeah, yeah, that's what you want, don't you Weasley?" She quipped, looking back up to the red-headed boy who's now readying their vials.

"Just thought that we could make some for people, like, your brother. Poor guy, reckon he's going to rip his hair out getting partnered with Tuttle." And with that, George let out a laugh, a laugh that cost Gryffindor 5 points. Though, all was well when they were the first to finish and send their little vial of calming draught into the hands of Severus Snape, garnering 5 points each and an opportunity to leave class 10 minutes early.

And that was it, that was their relationship; potions partners.

George Weasley learned 2 things that day. One, his potions partner was someone he wanted to know more, to be with more, and two, one should never put a liberal amount of peppermint in a calming draught. (Fred learned that the hard way.)

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She was the epitome of beauty and brains. So far, that's what he knew about his potions partner. But a little incident in the corridor made two into three.

It wasn't unusual for Fred and George Weasley to skip class, especially if the class was History of Magic. And it also wasn't unusual for them to hide behind a tapestry whilst a stinky dungbomb was set in the first-floor corridor.

What was unusual though, was George not wanting to move from their hiding place, forcing Fred to also not move. "George, mate, wha-?" "SHH!"

Whatever Fred's question was supposed to be, it quickly got answered by the presence of a certain someone whose walking to the Muggle Studies classroom, his brother's potions partner perhaps? Fred grinned mischievously, nudging his brother in the abdomen, and earning a wince.

"Oi mudblood! Was that you?" They heard from a distance, heavy footsteps following the girl he's teasing his brother with. From their point of view, they could tell that the girl stopped in her tracks, sighing heavily as though this was a regular thing.

"Was that me, what?" She asked, clearly annoyed. "Was that you who did it? Or d'you just shat yourself? It smells horrid. Would make sense, as you're a filthy little mudblood."

George's blood was beginning to boil, fingers formed into a fist, knuckles white. Especially when they got to see the silhouette of the two arguing. Perfect, Winnifred Tuttle, his brother's potions partner bullying his Y/N Y/L/N. He had an urge to protect her. To avenge her. To show her how much he cared for someone who's supposed to be his potions partner.

"Was that supposed to be an insult, Tutts?" Y/N spat back, pulling George out of his trance and making Fred shut his mouth. Now he's the one staring intently. "It's honestly just sad. A 'pureblood' like you should know the difference between a dungbomb and a piece of shit. Or perhaps you're probably just that daft?"

The boys were fixated on their conversation now. A hand on their mouths, hopefully covering up their shock even if they're hiding behind a tapestry. George's heart was beating faster now.

"Me? Daft? Well, if I'm daft then why are you taking muggle studies?" Tuttle sneered, an ugly grin splattered across her face.

"Bit hypocritical, isn't it, Winnie? Bye-bye!" She turned her back away from the Slytherin now, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom, holding a few books in one hand and her middle finger in the other.

He knows three things about her now; She's bewitching, she's a whizz, and she's a muggle-born who doesn't take shit.

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A few more lessons in and one could say that Y/N and George are starting to become friendlier to each other. Acquaintances, sure, but, friendly nonetheless. But the Gryffindor wanted to live up to its name, to its values. He might've just gotten to know a bit about her but he was completely and utterly entranced.

Nothing's going to stop him now.

His right hand held his wand as he stirred the concoction in the cauldron. She, on the other hand, was cutting up the stewed mandrake. The easy silence between them was broken by none other than the lion himself.

"Hey," he called, lifting his gaze from the potion to the girl right next to him. "Hi." She said back.

"So... Today's a Friday, right?"

She looked at him, confused, recounting a particular time in which she looked at a calendar today. "Yeah, I think so."

"And we can go to Hogsmeade after classes?"

"Pretty sure you can, why?"

"Want to go on a date?"

She looked stunned which kind of hurt George's ego but as soon as the slightly parted mouth of hers became a cheerful grin, he felt a whole lot better.

"As long as you stop staring at me and not over mix our potion, then sure, I'll go out with you." She smiled, making George give a shy little grin back before attempting to put all his concentration on the brew. Mind boggled on the way she said 'our potion.'

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Going to Muggle Studies felt utterly useless now that Y/N's been promised to go on a date right after. But having George by her side, walking her to the class just seemed to be the best part of the day.

He recounted the time when he and Fred hid behind a tapestry and told Y/N all about it, giving a hot feeling to her cheeks. They stopped by the door frame of the classroom, Professor Burbage was waiting inside, pacing around her study as George's hand slyly held Y/N's.

"I'll pick you up later?" He asked with the same shy smirk plastered on his face, cheeks pink and ears flushed. "Yeah. Thanks for walking me here. You shouldn't have." She uttered, heels rising and falling as she bounced on her toes.

"Just making sure that Tuttsy's not going to ruin your day, love." Y/N felt heat rising to her cheeks and ears, as well as an uncontrollable grin. Her heel turned to make her face the concrete walls of the castle, hands covering their face and body slightly swaying from side to side. It was ridiculous, really. Dumb. Very.

"You're adorable when you're flustered."

"Shut up, Weasley." And with that, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, leaving him slightly startled, stunned, and very red in the face. "You're adorable when you're flustered." She quipped, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom and taking her seat.

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Muggle Studies felt oddly slow that day. Usually, it lasted an hour but today it felt like a century. Professor Burbage's talk about electricity and muggle technology went in one ear and out the other.

If you'd ask why Y/N chose a subject she already knew plenty about, her answer would be that she wanted to see things from a different perspective. But truthfully, she just knew that she'd be good at it and it'd be an easy O.

So there she was; A scrap piece of parchment laid on the wooden desk and a pen since Professor Burbage discouraged the use of quills.

Her mind wandered off the moment she sat down on her chair. Feet either bouncing up and down or stuck straight onto the floor, she wouldn't know. What she did remember was her non-dominant hand posing itself as the other one scribbled on the piece parchment.

Her fingers played with the hazy light and the ink added depth. Soon she started sketching other things; The student in front of her, a study of Professor Burbage, a head with a moderately strong jaw and beautiful, short, messy hair. A male side profile with a big nose that has a slight bump on its bridge matching a cheeky grin with dimples. Her hand posed itself once more but this time she wasn't making it look like hers, she was making it look like his. Something she's seen many times before, and guiltily stared at once, twice, more than she could recount.

She was adding in the cluster of freckles when the worst happened; "Miss Y/L/N, still with us?" Professor Burbage stood at the front of the class, standing straight, clearly thinking about her posture. "Miss Y/L/N?"

She felt an elbow nudge her arm, and that was the thing that brought her back into reality. Her head whipped itself to face her seatmate then to her Professor, giving her a funny-looking nervous grin.

"Charm would get you nowhere, Miss Y/L/N. When was the first electricity generator introduced in Britain? And where was it installed?" She has to have something in that brain of hers. It must've been taught sometime when she was in muggle school. "Err-- 1900s something, Surrey--?"

Professor Burbage meekly chuckled, "Nice try. 1881. Godalming, Surrey. A point from Y/H then, I'm sorry."

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George was faithful and stuck to his word. Even being 5 minutes early after asking Professor Grubbly-Plank if he could go to the bathroom and have a wee, saying that the unicorns would definitely mind if he pissed on their trees.

He did not go to the bathroom but instead went straight to the Muggle Studies classroom. Leaning the side of his body onto the wall by the door. Trying his best to peer into the room and find his potions partner and soon to be his date and maybe even his. But he was getting ahead of himself.

The bell rang and he heard a loud shuffling sound of chairs being pulled back. The door was opened as students from all of the houses started pouring out and there she was. Looking beautiful as ever with her bag slung on her shoulder.

"Glad to see you're alright there, dove." He cooed, earning once again another shy smile. "Anything happened there?" He asked, pointing to the now open classroom.

"Felt way longer than usual, and I lost a house point." She said matter of factly. George chuckled, his heart filled with pride as he turned his head towards her.

"And what have you done to lose said house point?"

She smiled before reaching her hand into a pocket of her robes, pulling out a folded piece of aged parchment before handing it to the curious redhead.

"What's this? A love letter?" He bantered. "Just open it." And so he did. His nimble fingers unfolding the parchment, then he was stunned. Seeing his face drawn in ink with lines crossing over more lines was the last thing he expected. It looked like him. And it didn't look like Fred. It is him.

"I was just drawing in class but then I sort of blanked out and got a dumb question wrong." She paused, looking back up to see if the redhead was still listening. "Hello? Earth to George?"

"You drew me?" He was on a fine line of disbelief and awe. It truly looked amazing. She drew her hand at least three times before he recognized his was also there. She even got the little freckle he had on the middle of his wrist. The full body of ol' Professor Burbage brought so much of her energy and even the way her scarf wrapped around her neck was perfect.

Her cheeks were heating up again, realizing what she just did. "It's not that good. Just-- drew what I saw and, err-- whatever came to mind, I guess." Bad execution, sloppy excuse. "Okay, you've been looking at that for way too long now--"

"This looks bloody brilliant! Now how come I've only found out about this now?"

"Flattery would get you nowhere, Weasley." She joked, but he was serious.

"S'not 'flattery' if I'm stating what's true! It's amazing, you're amazing." She felt her heartbeat increase by a mile.

"Well then, I'm flattered." She said, adjusting the strap of her bag to hopefully let out some adrenaline. "And to answer your question, it'd be terrifying if I just started drawing in Snape's class. I swear that man has eyes at the back of his head. That's why this is a new discovery for you."

"Fuck, this is amazing!" He uttered.

"It's really not that good--"

"'S'really not that good' Some shit standards you have there. I'd put this in a museum!" He said loudly, extending both his arms and imagining that the piece of parchment was displayed on the Hogwarts walls. "If you don't like it then I'll keep it." George joked, expecting disapproval, which, to his shock, never came.

"Are you actually giving this to me?"

She shrugged, "I mean if you'd like a photo of you drawn by a teenage girl then be my guest." He smiled, genuinely smiled. He looked so pretty at that moment and there shouldn't be any holding back now.

"...But," She started, his gaze looked intently at her, ready to listen to whatever comes next. "There's a price."

"Between Freddie and I, we have 26 galleons and a few sickles." He said, earning a hearty laugh and a shake of her head. "Don't really think he'd like me to give all of it to you, I'm sorry. If you want I'd pay a bit then I--"

"No, George." She said, tugging lightly on his tie to gain his attention. "How about... a kiss? Perhaps?"

He grinned. His hand hovered itself across her face before landing on her cheek, thumb gracing itself on its apples, slightly squishing the skin whilst his eyes looked for any signs of discomfort; there was none.

They slowly leaned in, eyes locked on lips before their lips locked onto each other. His lips were slightly chapped but it felt like the softest thing on Earth. He smelled of cinnamon, firewood, gunpowder, and other indescribable scents, but it was nice. It was short but meaningful, gentle, even. His other hand was wrapped around her waist and once again, his thumbs were running up and down whatever part of her body it's laid on.

He learned two more things about the girl that day; she's artistic, and she felt like home.

He never thought there'd be a time in his life where he'd be thankful for Severus Snape. But life goes in unexpected ways.

"If you'd like to tip me then I'm just going to say that I love cauldron cakes." She grinned up at him as they pulled away before settling her face in his chest. George chuckled to himself before wrapping his arms completely on her waist, placing a sweet kiss on the top of her head.

"Yeah, yeah, come on." He said, pulling away to let her shake herself up as he held onto the piece of folded parchment which graced his face, giving it a small peck before putting it in his pocket, patting it three times.

"Better sign that drawing for me, Y/N. How much does an autograph cost?"

"Double the original price—?"

"And the tip?"

"And the tip."

[thimbil]

Having some thoughts about the references and inspirations used for the Bad Batch’s designs.

So Boba Fett is my absolute favorite character and Temeura Morrison was perfect casting. I went to see the 2008 TCW movie in theaters because I was so excited to see him again, even if he was animated. You can imagine my disappointment. Whoever was on screen was not Temeura Morrison. You could sort of see a resemblance if you squinted and didn’t think too hard about it. They replaced Temeura with Racially Ambiguous G.I. Joe. If I didn’t know better and someone told me the animated clones are space Italians from the moon of New Jersey I would buy it. One Million Brothers Pizzeria and Italian Bistro. Not that there’s something wrong with being space Italian, I just don’t think it’s the right choice for the Fetts. The design got slightly improved by season 7 but it still bugs the hell out of me.

I did eventually get into the show later and (of course) got invested in the clones. Unfortunately, they were largely sidelined by the Jedi storylines. Out of the two new main characters created for TCW, Ahsoka definitely got more development and focus than Rex. When they announced The Bad Batch, I was excited to see a show specifically devoted to the clones… at least that’s what it said on the tin. We have all seen what lurks beneath those stylish helmets.

Jango Fett, you are NOT the father.

So who is?

Based on interviews with Filoni, it sounds like the Bad Batch was a George Lucas idea. And like all his ideas, it’s super derivative. The original trilogy directly lifted elements from sci fi serials, westerns, and samurai movies, more specifically Kurosawa films like The Hidden Fortress. For The Bad Batch character designs, the influence is obviously American action and adventure movies.

Now let’s get specific. Bad Batch, who’s your daddy?

Hunter

Sylvester Stallone as Rambo in First Blood 1982. That bandana has become an integral part of the iconic action hero look. You see a character wearing one and it’s a visual shorthand for either “this character is a tough guy” like Billy played by Sonny Landham in Predator 1987, or “this character thinks he is/wants to be a tough guy” like Brand played by Josh Brolin in The Goonies 1985 or Edward Frog played by Corey Feldman in The Lost Boys 1987.

Hunter’s model is closest to the original clone base. If you look closely you will see the eyebrows are straighter with a much lower angle to the arch. His nose is also not the same shape as a standard clone like Rex, including a narrower bridge. It’s certainly not Temeura Morrison’s nose. Remember what I said about space Italians? It didn’t take much to push the existing clone design to resemble an specific Italian man instead of a specific Māori man. The 23&Me came back, and Hunter inherited more than the bandana from Sylvester.

Crosshair

The long narrow nose, the sharp cheekbones, the scowl. That’s no clone, that’s just animated Clint Eastwood. Not even Young and Hot Clint Eastwood from Rawhide 1959-1965. With that hair, I’m talking Gran Torino 2008. The man of few words schtick and family friendly toothpick in lieu of cigar are pure Eastwood as The Man With No Name from Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns A Fist Full of Dollars 1964, For a Few Dollars More 1965, and The Good the Bad and the Ugly 1966.

In a way, this is full circle because the actor Jeremy Bulloch took inspiration from Clint Eastwood for his performance as Boba Fett in ESB.

Wrecker

In an interview Filoni lists the Hulk as an (obvious) inspiration for Wrecker. Ever seen the old Hulk tv show from 1978? Well take a look at the actor who played him, Lou Ferrigno. Would you look at that. Even has his papa’s nose.

You could make the argument that Wrecker was influenced by The Rock, an appropriately buff ‘n bald Polynesian (Samoan, not Maori) man. But look at him next his Fast and Furious costar Vin Diesel and tell me which one resembles Wrecker’s character model more.

Tech

Tech is a little trickier for me to place. If he has a more direct inspiration it must be something I haven’t seen. That said, his hairline is very Bruce Willis as John McClane in Die Hard 1988. His quippiness and large glasses remind me of Shane Black as Hawkins from Predator 1987. In terms of his face, he looks a but like the result of McClane and Hawkins deciding to settle down and start a family. Although, Tech’s biggest contributors are probably just everyone on TV Trope’s list for Smart People Wear Glasses.

And finally,

Echo

Oh Echo. Considering he wasn’t created for the Bad Batch, he probably wasn’t based on a particular character or movie. But if I had to guess, his situation and appearance remind me a lot of Alex Murphy played by Peter Weller in Robocop 1987. However, Robocop explored the Man or Machine Identity Crisis with more nuance, depth, and dignity. Yikes.

The exact tropes and references used in The Bad Batch have been done successfully with characters who aren’t even human. Gizmo from Gremlins 2: The New Batch 1990 had a brief stint with the Rambo bandana. I could have picked any number of characters for Defining Feature Is Glasses but here is the most cursed version of Simon of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Suffer as I have. Marc Antony with his beloved Pussyfoot from Looney Tunes has the same tough guy with a soft center vibe as Wrecker and his Lula (also a kind of cat). Hell, in the same show we have Cad Bane sharing Cowboy Clint Eastwood with Crosshair. I actually think Bane makes a better Eastwood which is wild considering Crosshair has Eastwood’s entire face and Bane is blue.

So we’ve established you don’t need your characters to look exactly like their inspirations to match their vibe. So why go through the trouble and cost of creating completely new character designs instead of recycling and altering assets they already had on hand? Just slap on a bandana, toothpick, goggles, and make Wrecker bigger than the others while he does a Hulk pose and you’re done. Based on the general reaction to Howzer it would have been a low effort slam dunk crowd pleaser.

But they didn’t do that.

So here’s the thing. I like the tropes used in The Bad Batch. I am a fan of action adventure movies from the 80s-90s, the sillier the better. I am part of the Bad Batch’s target audience. Considering what I know about Disney and Lucasfilm, I went in with low expectations. I genuinely don’t hate the idea of seeing references to these actors and media in The Bad Batch. I don’t think basing these characters on tropes was a bad idea. If anything it’s a solid starting point for building the characters.

The trouble is nothing got built on the foundation. The plot is directionless, the pacing is wacky, and the characters have nearly no emotional depth or defining character arcs. They just sort of exist without reacting much while the story happens around them. But I can excuse all of that. You don’t stay a fan of Star Wars as long as I have not being able to cherrypick and fill in the gaps. This show has a deeper issue that shouldn’t be ignored.

Why do the animated clones bear at best only a passing resemblance to their live action actor? In interviews, Filoni wouldn’t shut up but the technological advancements in the animation for season 7. So if they are updating things, why not try to make the clones a closer match to their source material? Why did they have to look like completely different people in The Bad Batch to be “unique”? Looking like Temeura Morrison would have no bearing on their special abilities and TCW proved you can have identical looking characters and still have them be distinct. In fact, that’s a powerful theme and the source of tragedy for the clones’ narrative overall.

Here’s Filoni’s early concept art of Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, and Hunter. (Interesting but irrelevant: Wrecker seems to have a cog tattoo similar to Jesse’s instead of a scar. Wouldn’t it have been funny if they kept that so when they met in season 7 one if them could say something like “Hey we’re twins!” That’s a little clone humor. Just for you guys 😘)

None of these drawings look like the clones in TCW, much less Temeura Morrison. Let’s be generous. Maybe Filoni struggles with drawing a real person’s likeness, as many people do. But he had to hand this off to other artists down the line whose job specifically involves making a stylized character resemble their actor. Yet the final designs missed the mark almost as much as this initial concept. Starting to seem as if the clones looking more like Temeura Morrison was never even on the table. It wasn’t a lack of creativity, skill or technical limitations on the part of the creative team. I don’t think there is an innocent explanation. They went out of their way to make the final product exactly how we got it.

This goes beyond homage. They could have made the same pop culture references and character tropes without completely stripping Temeura Morrison from the role he originated. It was a very purposeful choice to replace him with more immediately familiar actors from established franchises and films. It wouldn’t shock me if Filoni, Lucas, and anyone else calling the shots didn’t even think hard or care enough about the decision to immediately recognize a problem. And I don’t think they believed anyone else would either. At least no one whose opinion they cared about. Those faces are comfortingly familiar and proven bankable. They are what we’re all used to seeing after all. They’re white.

Lack of imagination, bad intentions, or simple ignorance doesn’t really matter in the end. The result is the same. Call it what it is. They replaced a man of color with a bunch of white guys. That’s by the book garden variety run of the mill whitewashing. There’s no debate worth having about it. For a fanbase that loves to nitpick things like whether or not it’s in character for Han to shoot first or Jeans Guy in the Mandalorian, we sure are quick to find excuses for clones who look nothing like their template. Why is that? If you don’t see the problem, congratulations. Your ass is showing. Pull your jeans up.

[achillieus]

we’re fools. (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.

(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)

pairing: college au!bucky x reader

warnings: alcohol, angst, too much tension, bucky and reader are stupid and in  denial, sexual tension all around the place

tagging: @tonystankschild​

(other parts)  (masterlist)

part 2/3:

And then it’s the last week of February and you have an assignment together, you and Bucky, the boy with black hair and a mind that you’re certain is not as clever as he insists it is. You know this cannot possibly end well. You feel it when he sits beside you and his knee brushes past your leg. You feel it when you take a breath and smell his aftershave. Sandalwood and vanilla. It makes you want to lick your lips. Please, get a grip. You try to get away, even propose to write the whole thing alone so you wouldn’t have to spend any time around him. In your mind, you call it self defense. But Bucky’s boastful and you can see him pumping the muscles in his neck, trying to intimidate you.

“My dorm, tomorrow at 7,” he says “Don’t be late.”

-

(your late night instagram search history)

(00:38 AM) #literaturememes

(01:15 AM) @buckybrns

(01:30 AM) #newgirl

(01:50 AM) @buckybrns

(02:10 AM) @buckybrns

You find it annoying; how he’s present even when he’s not around.

-

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that everyone, boys and girls, adore him alike. He’s charming, he’s crafty, he’s brilliant. He’s everything they want him to be and even more. It nearly condones his megalomania.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s aware he has an audience. Always plans his moves, knows how to play his character perfectly. He wears dark designer jeans and plain Henley shirts, buttons open, fabric tight around his biceps. Sometimes even a black leather jacket and a tag necklace. Girls are intrigued by the bad-boy, straight A student contrast, while the boys are envious enough keep him close and invite him to all of their parties. Bucky gives them whatever they need.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s utterly lonely. He has never said so, but it’s the truest thing about him. He has Sam. But for how long? Bucky’s used to people going away. It has been imprinted on him. His best friend, Steve, left with his girlfriend in an exchange program last month and Natasha, the one girl he ever came close to loving, just started dating Clint Barton. Clint fucking Barton. What a downgrade.

And then there’s you, sitting at the end of his bed, playing with the ring in your finger, reading some neatly written lecture notes. Usually, Bucky would think about 129 cheeky comments he could make to a girl in his room. But not to you. Are you sure, Bucky? He has grown accustomed to disliking you. It’s the one constant he has left and he’s not planning on losing it.

He leans down and takes the place next to you, a bottle of beer dangling loosely in his hand.

He offers and you decline.

“We need to concentrate on the project.”  

“You’re the biggest killjoy.” Bucky says with a hint of a smirk.

“I’m studying, Bucky.” He can see your left hand holding that dark green pen in a tight grip and your eyes trying to focus everywhere but on his face. He can see your hair glistening in the warm afternoon light that comes from his window. He can see the soft red blush on your cheeks and the beauty mark on your neck. What a tricky thing it is to see. And to feel. And to want.

Is that what dislike tastes like, Bucky?

-

He talks a lot, that’s the first thing you notice. He says all sorts of things, most of them having nothing to do with your project. You’re certain it’s because he’s feeling as uncomfortable and agitated as you. But still, it’s annoying as hell.

“Listen,” you say and turn to his side “I’m not going to fail this class just because you have the attention span of a two year old.”

A laugh escapes his lips and you watch, completely in awe, the way little wrinkles form around his eyes and his nose scrunches. Right now, he looks tender and warm. No, he doesn’t.

“I think we’re both pretty smart,” Bucky says nonchalant and wets his lower lip with his tongue, before he adds, “We’ve got this, so relax doll.”

There are rules, things that are solid, de facto.

Example 1: Bucky never praises you. At least not out loud.

Example 1: Not valid anymore.

Example 2: Bucky uses the word “doll” approximately ten times a day. To other girls. The girls he likes. Not to you.

That’s actually wrong, he called you doll the first time you met. That doesn’t count. He didn’t know you then.

Example 2: Not valid anymore.

It feels foreign. Pleasant and beguiling, but foreign.

“You always call girls “doll”. What is this?” You ask and he looks up. “Is it like your thing, your flirt move?”

Bucky meets your gaze, his forehead creased, and holds it for some seconds before he laughs again. Is this amusing him?

“No, I’m serious.” You bite your lip. “You even did it to me when we first met.”

“I did?”

Of course he doesn’t remember, what did you expect?

“Yeah, when you helped me find the admission office.”

“And you remember that, an entire year later?” He raises his eyebrows, looking entertained and partly interested.

Your mind empties and for some time you feel out of place, embarrassed. But you’re quick to recollect yourself. You can’t let him get you.

“It was my first day as a college student, I remember all of it.”

Liar. You don’t even remember who you sat next to.

Bucky smirks a little too long for your liking and then he leans in, his body bending in a way that makes you forget to breath. He’s so close and you only see blue, a rare kind of blue between the depths of the ocean and the brightest shade of the sky at noon. This would be so much easier if he wasn’t that handsome. Handsome and indomitable. What an awful combination.

“Interesting.” He whispers and lies back, touching the wall.

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and clear your throat.

“I should go, it’s obvious we’re not making any progress.” You pick your books and stand up. “Sometimes I wonder how you get all those perfect grades, you clearly-” You merely finish your sentence before he grabs your arm and swiftly, he has you pressed against his wooden bookcase. You don’t have time to blink.

What’s happening? He was sitting down a second ago.

“That day,” he says while his thumb draws circles on your wrist. “You were wearing a denim dress and some Saturn shaped earrings. And you were holding a cherry juice box.”

It’s utterly terrifying how your emotions toss and turn the moment you realize what he’s talking about and the fragile muscles of your heart ache because Bucky cares. Bucky remembers.

“It wasn’t my first day of college, but I remember.”

You want to throw up. Or kiss him. You’re not sure. You know you hate Bucky. Do you? You’ve taught yourself to. And it was never supposed to change. It shouldn’t have to.  

You part your lips to say something, anything, but he shakes his head and steps back.

“You should go.”

And you do. And you’ll never tell him, but you’ll always regret not kissing him then. You’re sure now.

-

your inbox, the next morning

(10:25 AM) from buckybrns@gmail.com

              I’m sending you our assignment. You only need to add a few things and it’s done. If anything else comes up, it’s better we work on our own.

-

For Bucky, it all came crashing down the moment he first saw you. It was all over the moment his eyes met yours. A gourmand perfume lingered in the air around you that day and it stained his pores. And it’s been with him since then. Clinging onto his flesh.

It’s partly obsessive and partly romantic and Bucky tries to keep it locked inside. He thinks he can make it go away easily, the way he flicks a crumb off his expensive cashmere scarf. He thinks if he doesn’t talk about it, it’ll be less true. That’s not how things work, Bucky.

Yeah, he’s starting to notice.

And he’s trying so hard to hate you. The problem is, he doesn’t think he can.

(his late night instagram search history)

(00:45 AM) #tomfordperfumes

(01:30 AM) @y/n

(01:50 AM) #funnycats

(02:15 AM) @y/n

(03:45 AM) @y/n

-

You make it your mission to avoid him and it’s going well until the fifth of March. You spot him at Sam Wilson’s party. You should have known he’d be here, they’re friends. There’s a thick cloud of cigarette smoke all around, but still, you can perfectly see him. He’s standing alone, his skin changing colors under the neon lights, a plastic cup in his hand, eyes crystal blue and swollen and fixated on you.

The room is small and everything feels known but unfamiliar at the same time; the atmosphere, his gaze, the lump on your throat.

They’re suffocating you, the looks you give each other.

-

“Buck, what do you want?” Sam asks, holding both vodka and gin and he observes the way Bucky merely turns his head to look at him.

What do you want Bucky?

Not to play a role anymore. For Steve to be back. Maybe, Natasha. No, he hasn’t thought about her in a month. Perhaps a Pulitzer Prize. Definitely a new pair of sunglasses. But there is one more answer he has behind his teeth.

Y/N, he almost says. Always.

“Vodka.”

-

He leaves before midnight and you can’t remember where the urge came from, yet you’re following him. You know he has noticed. But he just keeps walking until he reaches the door of his dorm and presses his back against it. He sees you and you see him and his eyes cut your heart open.

“Your place is on the other side of the building.”

“I know,” you mumble, “I just never got to say good job on the assignment and I wanted to.” You are unable to meet his eyes. You sound pitiful and you want to hit a wall; with your head.

Why the hell did you follow him here?

Because sometimes you do stupid things.

Bucky mockingly opens his mouth, as if shocked. It almost makes you groan.

“Did Miss high and mighty just comment something nice about me?”

“Why do you have to contradict everything I say?”

He shakes his head and you can feel your heart beat loud and irregular and it’s not because you’re mad. It’s because he’s coming closer, almost chest to chest now. And it’s because you can swear, he just glanced at your lips.

“Someone has to, you can’t act like you know everything all the time.”  

“I don’t do that, you don’t know a thing about me Bucky.”

“Oh, but I do. You’re Y/N, you like plaid skirts and Homer and dark green pens. You expect everyone to be perfect. You expect yourself to be perfect. And you always want to do the right thing.”

His pupils are dilated. Yours must be too. Bucky Barnes is dangerous and fatal. He makes your blood coil and your mouth dry. And there’s a tension, almost pain, almost agony, deep in your lungs and it burns. And you don’t know who leaned in first, probably you because Bucky isn’t that brave yet, but suddenly your hands are everywhere. Your fingers blending in his hair, his digging in the skin on the back of your neck. He’s bringing you closer and it’s a mess and all you can hear is the beating of your heart; a rapid vibration between your ears. It’s pure and raw and it doesn’t hurt anymore.

He tastes like ambrosia and a year-old despair and you think you can go on forever. You eventually break apart because you both need to breath and for a second you worry because he looks like he’s ready to cry, but instead he smiles, softly touching your cheek.

“Did I do the right thing?” You whisper.

...

feedback is so appreciated and motivates me tons, thank you :)

[wizkiddx]

Not sure if you are taking request at all but if you do, do you mind writing something about Harry agreeing to be the birth photographer at the birth of his niece (tom and reader’s daughter) 🥺🤍

this was so interesting!! personally I am way too self conscious to have a photographer when I *eventually* have a kid aha, but I hope this is what u were looking for x x p.s. coming at my brand w the white hearts :)

tomholland x reader

summary: harry gets terrified by toms request about the birth of his child, but the reader smoothes it over

Having just had a round of golf with Harry, Tom invited him back to yours for a cuppa and a catch up too. After all the years of living and travelling with Harry by his side, Harry in particular was massively important to TOm. Especially since he’d moved in with you, Tom constantly made a super special effort to spend as much time with him as possible. Harry had a key and had no quam with letting himself in uninvited. Though since he had walked in at *the wrong time* a bit too frequently, and then the announcement of your pregnancy - he had cut down the unexpected visits.

“So, I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“This does not sound good” Harry furrowed his eyebrows together, looking suspiciously at his brother as he poured the kettle into the two matching ‘Brothers Trust’ mugs.

“Since when? I only ever ask you to do good things?”

“We both absolutely know that is not true.” Harry deadpanned, pointing to the palm of his right hand which carried a large scar. Scar in question had been sustained during one of Tom’s incredibly ‘good’ aka stupid ideas.

“Right fair… I’ll allow that.” He receeded, placing the two mugs onto the counter in front of Harry. All it took was one look at the pale brown colour for Harry to turn his nose up, shooting Tom a look as though he’d just murdered a puppy. The elder of the two sighed, knowing exactly what his brothers snobbiness was about.

“Seriously?”

“It’s not your fault your awful at this, some people just aren’t born with it.” With a sarky pat on the back Harry rounded the counter, pouring the freshly brewed but slightly too milky tea down the drain - before flicking the kettle on to make his own brew… properly this time.

Tom knew his brother well enough to know not to argue or protest, instead perching on the counter as he watched Harry work his ‘magic’.

“But seriously me and Y/n have been talking about the birth cos you know, it’s not too far away now.” This was true, you were now only 3 weeks from your due date - but going by the size of you, you were ready to pop. Quite literally, you didn't know how much longer you could last.

“I’d be concerned if you weren’t mate.”

“Well yeh and I basically um …  had the idea to get a photographer for the birth right? It’s quite an American thing but I don’t want to forget anything and I’m sure it’s gonna be magical.” In response, Harry slowly turned around, empty mug in hand and eyes fierce.

“Are you fucking stupid?!”

To be fair to Harry, that had pretty much been your reaction when Tom first suggested it - word for word. He’d got the idea from one of the crew he’d filmed his most recent projects with, the guy had been raving about how beautiful it was and once he’d shown the pictures to Tom - he had to agree. Eventually Tom had worn you down to it and actually the idea of being able to save the moment you met your kid for the first time didn’t sound too bad. You had firmly set the boundaries of no photos of your ‘labour face’ and absolutely nothing from the ‘other end of the bed.’

The worry for both of you, as it always was given Tom’s reputation, was privacy. Especially the birth of your child, having a stranger there had you straight refusing, even a friend seemed still a little invasive. It was only when Tom had remembered he had a brother (who you were also incredibly close to) who was handy with a camera. Even if he had no experience with this particular type of photography, Harry was a pretty safe pair of hands for a camera in any situation. God knows he’s had enough practice at it.

“No hear me out, Y/n agreed too-“

“Of course this was your idea! So she’s totally fine with me staring at her fanny through a camera lens?”

“Harry” That was a warning tone, which the frizzy haired boy chose to completely ignore.

“No I-I mean, you want me to stare at your finances bits? Isn’t that some sort of weird incsest?”

“Shut the fuck up about Y/n’s body. You OBVIOUSLY wouldn’t be taking photos of that end, more like when the baby gets handed to us you know?”

“When its covered in gunk that came out of Y/n?”

“I’m pretty sure they clean it-“

“Not properly!”

Thankfully perhaps, the conversation was interrupted by the kettle clicking off, the water coming to a boil. With a huff Harry turned round, pouring and then stirring the tea as Tom watched his back from a distance. Neither spoke till after Harry finished, returning the milk to the fridge and then leaning against the counter top.

“Look I get it if you dont want to but your the only one Y/n trusts to do it and it means a lot to me.”

“Y/n wants me to stare at her fanny?!”

“No calm down you div. But you are the only one she trusts to be in the room when our first child is born. Will you just think about it?”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, probably protest, but before he could the front door opened and you called through the house.

“Tom? I’m home!” And becasue the boy was whipped he instantly trotted to the front door giving you a peck on your lips. He murmured to you that Harry was there, his lips moving against yours and you nodded with a small smile. You knew, instantly, that Tom in all his idiocy hadn’t handled it well.

“Would you mind getting all the shopping from car? Pregnant and all, so I’m not allowed to lift a finger.” You cocked your head, laughing as he rolled his eyes with a nod.

“I’m excited for when you can't play that card.”

“But then I’ll be the women who pushed a baby out for you… the mother of your child.”  Winking, you then quickly moved through the house before he could protest, just knowing he was pulling a pouty face as he watched you sway away.

Once in the kitchen you saw Harry nursing his mug like it was the last drink on earth, hunched over it from where he was sitting on a stool on the breakfast bar.

“ You lose at golf?” Opening the conversation, Harry instantly shot his head up, looking slightly terrified to see you.

“Wha- no, no I didn’t actually.”

“Tom asked you huh?” He nodded, seemingly not wanting to commit with words. “I had exactly the same face when he first told me. It’s weird right?”

“Yeh no shit.”

“He’s really keen on it though, I mean he’s like an excited puppy about the whole birth.”

“But you want it too?”

“Sort of. What I do want is for him to be happy though. And I’m fairly certain he’s gonna be terrified throughout the whole birth while I won’t be in a position to help himl.”

“You’ll probably have other stuff on your mind to be fair.” You laughed, at that, nodding in agreement with him.

“Just a little. I did think though, who is a person who I can trust to look after him too during that... and even I draw a line at your dad… Look if you don't want to, I totally get it and I can’t promise that I won’t be screaming at you during if you do. But it would comfort me to know you were there, with or without the bloody camera.”

“Seriously?” Rather than exclaiming it, Harry whispered in shock, not expecting this sort of a revelation.

“Course H! You're my little brother too.”

“I might pass out.”

“So will your brother, at least he won’t be on his own then.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Thnakyouthankyouthankyou!” You squealed, running over to hug him from the back, arms round his shoulders as he squirmed on the stool.

It was at this point Tom walked back in after unloading the ridiculous amount of baby clothes shopping you had done. Big strong Tom had to take 2 trips up and down the stairs to the nursery. Of course, all it took was a few words from you and Harry was falling at your feat. He was hardly surprised. Annoyingly you seemed to have this power over all the Hollands. They never stood a chance.

It wasn’t till later than evening, long since Harry had left and the dishwasher had been put on after Tom had made a mess cooking you dinner. Only then did your phone ping with a text message from Sam.

Sam H

‘I dont know what you’ve done to Harry but I’m scared, he’s binge watching one born every minute.’

Immediately you cracked up, knowing that it was his nervous energy and need to ‘be prepared’. Tom, who was lying behind you on the sofa whilst his hands caressing your stomach, jerked his head up intrigued as the what the ‘ding’ was. You showed him and he snorted in laughter too, whilst nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“How did you bring him round by the way?”

“Oh you know, I’ve got all of you wrapped round my little finger when I want.”

“That you do… do you think I should be worried?”

“Nah your just all softies.” Laughing softly, you pulled his arms tighter around you, wiggling back into him a bit more.”

“You didn’t tell him about the godparent thing though?”

“Course not… we can give him a separate heart attack about that.”

[neoculturetravesty]

We met in online class - Part 4

Image taken from here. Originally had this image in mind but Tumblr won’t let me upload it. 

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, fluff, angst, maybe humor???? Warnings: Strong language Word Count: 4.3k

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | You are on Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Last Part

A/N: Happy Easter to all who celebrate it!

It’s funny how quickly people form habits without really meaning to. You don’t realize you have a new favorite word till someone points out you’ve been using it so much. You don’t realize you’re addicted to caffeine till you get headaches from withdrawals. You don’t realize you can’t live without dessert till the sugar crash hits. And in the same way, Renjun didn’t realize he had gotten used to your company till he’s waiting outside your lecture hall with an almost expectant inclination to see you. 

A lot of it had to do with who you were as a person. You had pretty much infiltrated Renjun’s life, even though he still kept you at an arm’s distance. One day, he had walked into the library and found you with Jaemin, while the two of you had your heads together over a laptop and a huge gift basket in the making on the table. Jaemin wasn’t the kind of person who invited a lot of new people into his life; so he must have really trusted you because it wasn’t the last time Renjun saw the two of you together. 

But worse than Jaemin was Donghyuck. Renjun was pretty sure that since you’d asked him out, you had probably hung out more with Donghyuck than with him. Almost as if seeing Renjun was just an excuse for you to hang out with him, as you had often joked. It was as if the two of you were kindred spirits, long lost best friends who had finally found one another. Donghyuck would invite you everywhere, get up to no good with you in tow; and before Renjun knew it, the two of you were even planning parties together. Neither Donghyuck nor you needed Renjun as an excuse to hang out with one another anymore, and it amused him. A part of him wondered if Donghyuck was playing along to help his bigger cause. But his friend always looked so genuinely happy around you that any ulterior motive he might have seemed to have been forgotten. 

“Why can’t the sun always be like this?” you said as you laid on the grass using your backpack as a pillow. Your hand was reaching out over your face, your fingers wiggling as you played with shadows.

While you soaked in the sun, Renjun chose to sit under the shade of a tree, sketching away in his book, completing his assignment before his next class.

“You wouldn’t appreciate it as much if it were always like this.” Renjun replies, not looking away from his work. He much preferred paint over charcoal, but he had to admit that the scratching sounds it made against the grains of paper--coupled with the chirping of birds and gentle ruffling of leaves around him--was really relaxing. As was your company.

“Hmm. But it’s still nice to see it without fine dust couture. I like seeing it fully in the nude.” you say, a soft, funny smile on your face while your eyelashes cast shadows on your cheeks.

“Pervert.” Renjun accuses, smiling as he drew. It just makes you laugh and lay sideways to face him. You prop up your head on your hand.

“I’m the sun, Huang Renjun. Now draw me like one of your French girls.” you say in a comical voice and Renjun actually laughs without reservation. 

“Do you have any more classes?” he asks, fixing his black and gold rimmed glasses over his nose.

“Nope. I’m done for the day. Yeri’s supposed to pick me up, so I’m just waiting for her call.” you say, rolling onto your back once more, resuming your dance with the shadows.

Renjun hums a reply as he sketches, but really, he’s thinking that he hadn’t formally met Yeri. At least not yet. He had just had two very awkward run-ins with her the couple of times he had been to your apartment. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been to your place since that last time. And you had never been to his place at all. 

It wasn’t on accident, though. All of it had been by Renjun’s really convoluted design. He had met a few of your friends on campus in the passing, sure. But you were more a part of his life that he was yours. That is exactly what Renjun had planned. Lately, however, that plan seemed to be fading away into the ether. Slowly but surely dispersing from memory till it was more or less abandoned. 

Because Renjun did not realize that he had adopted you like a habit. Any time he saw a witty meme, he had to send it your way because you would text back with an equally witty reply that scratched Renjun’s intellectual itch. Any time Jisung would bring home a baguette, he would take a picture for you with a caption like ‘Francophile life going strong’. The two of you had even developed a silly game where you would look at different marketing taglines and wonder if it would still work to sell condoms. 

‘Nike. Just do it.’ Renjun had once texted.

‘That is a low hanging fruit, Huang Renjun.’ you had replied.

‘Okay, true. But how about Imax: Thing big.’ he had texted back.

‘Hmm, almost but not quite. I need something stronger.’

‘BMW: Designed for driving pleasure.’ he had actually found himself scrolling through a long list of taglines while his assignment laid forgotten.

‘Oof. Now you’ve found the sweet spot. Keep going.’ Renjun had smiled at your reply and had found himself hurriedly looking for something better.

‘Geico: So easy, a caveman could do it.’ 

‘Mmm, didn’t think you were a kinky boy, Huang Renjun. Go on…”

Renjun had actually laughed out loud, making Jisung look up at him quizzically and replied ‘1010 Wins: you give us 22 minutes, we’ll give you the world.’

‘Yessss! Right there, right there!’

Renjun hadn’t even realized he was grinning wide and standing up from his desk, a list of taglines open both on his laptop and his phone while he scrolled to find the perfect response that would make you happy. ‘Rice Krispies: Snap! Crackle! Pop!’

‘So close, so close, I am almost there!’

‘Washington Post: Democracy dies in darkness.’

‘THAT’S IT, THAT DID IT, THAT HIT THE SPOT!’

Renjun had actually belly laughed at the entire conversation. He didn’t remember the last time he had laughed this way because even Jisung was looking at him with an amused smile, asking “What’s so funny?”

So yes, Renjun had adopted you like a habit. But it wasn’t just through text. When you weren’t the one waiting for him on campus with a couple of cups of coffee in hand, he found he would go looking for you. You would spend all your free time together, just like this. He would find himself missing you on days he didn’t get to see you. He found himself disappointed when you didn’t have time for him because you and Donghyuck were on a very important mission or you had to meet your friends or you had extra work that was demanding your attention. You had just inserted yourself in his life in such a manner that Renjun didn’t even notice.

Perhaps you had nothing to do with it, but Renjun’s life had been treating him pretty well, too. Maybe he was more inspired these days, because his work was getting better and his professors were noticing. His painting instructor had held him back after class one day and offered him an internship at his studio. While it wasn’t huge, it was enough that Renjun had thrown his fist in the air in celebration as soon as he had left class. And you were the first person he texted and he was glad he did because you had texted back a freakout that made him grin like an idiot. You had come to see him as soon as your own class had ended and you had flung yourself in his arms and had jumped around excitedly before dragging him along so you could buy him an artist’s apron as a present. 

“Do you have any more classes?” you ask him as you stare at the evening sun through your fingers.

Renjun’s about to reply when he is interrupted by the sound of your phone buzzing in your pocket. You fish it out and sit up, telling Renjun “Hold on…” before answering it. “Are you here, Yeri?” 

Renjun goes back to scratching away in his pad, thinking. Maybe he should introduce himself now when Yeri comes to pick you. But what would he say? ‘Hi, I’m Y/N’s friend?’ Everyone on campus knew that the two of you weren’t exactly just friends. It was thanks to your stunt during that one online class, where he’d met you. ‘Hi, I’m Y/N’s boyfriend?’ But he wasn’t that, either. While the two of you had become pretty comfortable in each other’s company, you hadn’t really done anything, or had any serious talk about what you were. You two always found yourself tiptoeing “the line”. Actually, no. It was Renjun that tiptoed that line. After his two failed attempts to kiss you, the conversation had just not taken that turn ever again. You two hadn’t leveled up on the PDA front, either. Sure, you had cuddled into him in the back of the cab that one night, and he had half-carried you to your apartment till Yeri took you from the doorstep. But you didn’t seem to remember any of it, so it was basically back to square one. Sure, you had hugged him in joy when he had gotten the internship, but did it really count when the two of you hadn’t even held hands yet? Aside from the innuendo-filled condom tagline talk, the two of you hadn’t really done anything that would constitute as… something a couple might do.

“Okay, but how long would it take?” you’re saying into the phone, a gentle crease growing between your eyebrows. Whatever you heard back must have been distasteful because you grimace. “Okayyyy, Yeri, I’m hanging up now!” you say pointedly and groan, laying back into the grass.

Renjun chuckles “All good?”

“Yeri has brought home a ‘distraction’.” you say, making air quotes, and a face like you’ve tasted something sour. “I’m banished from my own home for the evening.”

Renjun looks up. 

He thinks about his next words carefully. “Um… what are you gonna do?”

You groan once more and say “I’m probably going to crash at Lia’s till my exile is over. So inconvenient!”

“You could come over to mine.”

Renjun didn’t know how it happened, how he found the courage to think it and then actually say it out loud, but now there’s no going back because the two of you are walking down the hallway to his place. He doesn’t know why, but his throat is a little dry and he peeks over his shoulder to see that you seem a bit nervous as well. He takes a deep breath and decides to break the tension.

“Here we are.” He says as he punches in the code. He holds the door open “Hello, MTV. Welcome to my crib.”

It works because it makes you smile. “So, this is where the magic happens.”

“Mhmm, but I hope to God my roommates have at least attempted to clean it up some, because I did text them a head’s up.”

“Lead the way, Huang Renjun.” you say and he does. He walks you into his living room where Jisung is currently sitting, playing video games. The smell of something delicious makes his head turn towards the kitchen where he finds Jaemin.

“Hey, Y/N!” he calls out then wipes his hands on a towel before coming in to give you a hug. 

“Hi, Y/N!” Jisung says without looking up.

Renjun is amused and a little confused. Perhaps you and Jaemin got even closer while he wasn’t noticing, but Jisung? When had the two of you met? By the looks of it, Jisung was comfortable enough with you that he wasn’t even minding his manners and greeting you properly. Probably because he was too busy dwindling his thumbs on his controller furiously. 

“Damn, Jisung, you’re really going at it, huh?” you say to him easily.

“Mhmm. I would’ve been doing even better if Jaemin hadn’t interrupted and kicked me out of my own room because you were coming over.”

There is a two second silence before Jisung’s audience of three begins talking at the same time.

“Jisung!” Renjun yelps, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, no, we aren’t going to like… do anything--” you find yourself explaining at the same time, face heating up.

“Jisungieeee!” Jaemin also sings out to scold, yet he grins as he mock-chokes the boy.

“You are so dead.” Renjun gives the back of Jisung’s head a death stare.

“Nooo, our Jisungie means well, don’t you, Jisungie?” Jaemin coos while Jisung dodges his kisses.

Renjun shakes his head and places a hand to your arm to guide you along. “Let’s go.”

“I’ve made food if you crazy kids get hungry!” Jaemin calls after you and it’s the most animated he’s been in a while.

His friends being, well, his friends was probably worth it because Renjun is feeling a lot better as he brings you into his room. It had been a while since he had brought a girl over and looking about, he can tell that his mates did a good job at hastily cleaning it. 

“Damn, Huang Renjun. You’re a clean boy.” you’re saying as you look about. “I thought you’d be the artfully messy type.”

Renjun grins as he runs his fingers through his hair. “We can mess it up together if you’d like.” But Renjun mentally smacks himself in the head as soon as the words leave his mouth because you’ve looked up at him and quickly looked away, muttering something awkwardly.

“I… I didn’t mean that. I just meant with like, paint and, like…” Renjun blows air out of his mouth and then your eyes meet. Before you know it, you both are giggling at each other because the awkwardness is probably making you a bit delirious. 

Renjun watches as you take a deep breath to stop the giggles and turn to start looking around. “Oooh. Mr. Fancypants is a tea connoisseur.” you say as you run your hands over his teabag display box. 

Renjun chuckles “Do you want me to make you some?”

“Sure. Let’s have tea, Mr. Fancypants.” you take a seat on his wheelie chair and your eyes go to the artist’s apron you had bought him that is currently hanging on an easel. You give it a fond smile.

“What flavor would you like?” Renjun asks as he puts the kettle on and sets up two mugs.

“Umm… I don’t know tea. I’m a coffee drinker.” you reply, your fingers tracing over the pictures he had at his desk.

“I’ll make you a simple chamomile, then. I’ve seen you and Jaemin enabling each other’s coffee habits and I don’t approve.” he knots his eyebrows.

“Oh no, no, no. Jaemin is on a different level. I took a sip of his coffee by mistake once and my entire life flashed before my eyes. I don’t know if that boy drinks coffee or straight up cocaine.”

Renjun bites his smile because he’s still holding onto the look of disapproval. “That would explain the random spikes and falls in his energy.” he says as he pours out the water in the mugs and seeps the teabags. “Here you go.” he sets your mug on the desk and takes a seat on his bed.

You take a sip “So, which one is your bunk?”

“Top.” Renjun also wants to make an innuendo but he stops himself because the awkwardness surrounding the fact that you and him are alone in his room has only just subsided with the tea.

“Isn’t the bottom bunk more comfortable?” you muse as you drink. You seem to be enjoying your tea because you haven’t set it aside yet.

“Of course it is. It’s why Jisung has it.” he comments, cocking his eyebrow. “And I sleep here on this bed.” He pats where he’s sat.

You grin as you sip then quickly wipe your chin as some tea spills through your smile. “Where do you keep all your paintings?”

“In the studio. On that top bunk. Behind that door. At my grandma’s house.” he lists off on his fingers.

“Why behind the door? If I had your talent, I’d basically cover every bit of my wall in my art. Like the most egomaniacal artist in the world.” you fantasize, looking up at the ceiling.

Renjun chuckles. “I kinda like my space to be a bit cleaner, you know? Because I’m always around art. It kinda helps with my imagination, having a clean environment. It’s almost like a clean canvas.”

“Interesting.” you’ve said and it sounds like you genuinely mean it. “It’s still a bit sad. All the work you’ve created should have a home. It shouldn't be hidden away behind doors or on top bunks.”

“You can give some of them a home if you’d like. If you have space, I mean.” Renjun gives you a fond look. You haven’t replied but you’ve set your mug down and looked at him with a very tender look in your eyes. You stand up.

“I wanna see your bed.”

Renjun grins. “Be my guest.”

“Ooooh.” you make an excited squeal, almost like you're about to enter Dexter’s Laboratory. You plop yourself on it and bounce up and down, almost as if to check the pliability of it.

“So this is where the magic happens.” you giggle and then Renjun finds your gaze moving to a picture frame on his headboard. “Is that your grandma?”

“It is.” Renjun smiles as he watches you pick your feet up and make yourself comfortable.

“She looks exactly like you.” you say, looking back at him with an affectionate look.

“A lot of people say that. People in school used to think I’m adopted because I looked nothing like my parents.” Renjun scoots back to sit next to you.

“Are you close to your parents?” you ask gently, looking at him.

Renjun looks away. 

The two of you hadn’t had that many deep conversations. And anytime you did, he had found a way around it so that nothing was shared, nothing was learnt. 

But no one had ever asked him that… not in so many words. He finds himself shrugging and responding before he can stop himself. “Nah. They don’t even talk to me. They’ve never really cared.”

“How do you know that, Renjun?” you’re asking him in a very soft voice. The kind of voice that has Renjun sharing more than he wants.

“They pretty much abandoned me very young,” Renjun laughs ironically. “They would fight all the time, you know? Like, they really would go at each other one moment then make up the next moment. They kind of forgot they had a son.” Renjun finds himself saying while his eyes fixate on a loose thread on Jisung’s bedsheet. He realizes he’s warm and comfortable and that’s when he notices that you’ve put an arm around him.

“That must have been so hard, to go through that.” you’re speaking to him so softly and your head and your body is angled towards him, giving him all your attention while Renjun talks into the abyss. 

“They were just like… kinda dysfunctional, you know? They fought like crazy and I had to hide away so I wouldn’t hear them. And then the next day, they’d be in each other’s arms like nothing happened. They would pretend like everything was all right. Like the trauma they gave me meant nothing.”

You’re not speaking anymore, only listening. Your hand around him has started to gently stroke his arm. Your other hand softly combs through his hair.

“It was such a vicious cycle and they wouldn’t stop. I think they were kinda addicted to it. They would’ve been happy living like that with each other if it weren’t for me.” He had never shared so much with anyone. But now that he had started, it was difficult to stop.

“Renjun…” you say empathetically and pull him into you. Renjun pauses for a moment, but decides to give in. What did it matter, anyway? He rests his head on your shoulder.

“If it weren’t for my grandma, I wouldn’t even be alive, you know? She saved me from all of that and took me in. She raised me. It wasn’t even her responsibility, but she raised me.”

You are holding him to you and soothingly stroking his hair when you say “Then I think your grandma is the luckiest person in this world. Because she got to see you grow up to be such a good man.”

Renjun feels a lump in his throat grow and before he knows it, there are tears stinging in his eyes. You turn your head and press a kiss into his temple and slowly rock him. It was odd, being here like this, because Renjun realizes that this was the first time you had kissed him. But more than anything else, it was the first time someone had held him like this. 

The last time he remembered being held was probably when he was a child, and it had been his grandma. No one since had held him in their arms to listen to him, to comfort him, to love him without any conditions. No one had tried to take his pain away without wanting something in return. The thought puts more tears in his eyes and he finds himself leaning his weight into you. 

He allows you to hold him and comfort him and coo at him. You’re speaking to him gently but Renjun isn’t hearing your words. He’s only concentrating on the soothing sound of your voice and how melodic it is. He liked hearing you talk. He’s concentrating on how you’re rocking him, and how the movement is slowly lulling him. He liked how warm and soft you were and how protective your arms were. He liked the smell of chamomile on your breath. Had you enjoyed chamomile? He thought you had. Maybe you would’ve enjoyed a different flavor more. Renjun decides he should make you an Earl Grey next time; it would probably be better suited to your caffeine tastes. Maybe you wouldn’t like Earl Grey as much either, but it would be nice to discover that bit about you. He’d make you try all the flavors till he learnt which one your favorite was. 

“How come I never saw your cat?” He asks sleepily after you’ve been quiet for a while.

“Hmm?” you ask, confused.

“Your cat. Galbi. How come I didn’t see him when I came over?” Renjun can feel your smile against his temple.

“Oh. Yeri had dropped him over at the vet’s that day. Do you want to meet him?” you ask him.

“Yeah, it would be nice to meet him.” Renjun says and brings an arm up to cuddle closer into you.

“Okay. Next time you come over, you can meet him… shoulder gangster Renjun.” you’re only whispering at him now as you tease him.

“Mmm.” is the only reply Renjun can manage as he chuckles lazily. He didn’t even feel like killing Donghyuck for telling you about that because he feels so good like this, in your arms. Renjun hasn’t even noticed that you’ve laid him down till he realizes how horizontal he is.

It felt nice. Being held by someone, being protected by someone, being comforted by someone. Your hands haven’t stopped soothing him for a single moment ever since they started. Renjun hadn’t even noticed that you’d put the covers on him. Or that you were kissing the top of his head till he feels the warmth. It all felt so nice. He barely registers that your shirt is wet from his tears. All he feels are the relaxing patterns you’re drawing onto his skin. It’s the last thing he feels as he drifts off. And though you're gone in the morning, Renjun can swear this is the most sound sleep he's slept in many nights. He feels a thousand times lighter, like someone had lifted a heavy weight off of his chest and he was finally breathing fully. 

He smiles as he grabs his phone and sees your name right on the top of his notification list. He reads your message:

‘Hey, shoulder gangster. Sorry I left without telling you but you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you. I wanted to ask you something AND YOU CAN TOTALLY SAY NO. But my brother’s hosting a spring art festival of some sort at my parent’s house this weekend. A lot of his artist friends from his company will be there. Do you maybe wanna come with me?’

And there it was. 

Yes, it was funny how quickly people form habits without really meaning to. And in his new habit, Renjun had forgotten the real reason he was with you in the first place. 

Eyes on the fucking prize, Renjun thinks as his reality comes crashing back on him.

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

[aizawaorkuroo]

rain on me

Ship: Kitsune!Atsumu x f!reader

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: As a sunshine girl, you’ve been blessed by a fox spirit. A spirit that you’re supposed to meet for the first time tonight.

Warnings: Creampie, Outdoor Sex, Biting, Breeding, Dumbification, Panty Sniffing, Interspecies sex lmao

AN: the is based off of the movie Weathering With You! Not gender neutral because reader is referred to as sunshine girl at times! Part 2 of my Valentines day special!

________________________

A fat drop of water hits your cheek, rolling down your skin as you groan. Your lips twist into a frown, eyes narrowed at the rapidly darkening sky. Based on the weather report, it really was supposed to still be sunny…

Yachi squeals jolt you back into reality, her little fist, tugging at your sleeve, while Tanaka throws his head back to glare at the sky.

“Fix it please!” he moans, eyeing the sky like he’s thinking about fighting it. You sigh, shoulders slumping before shutting your eyes in concentration. 

A delicate prayer, one you’ve prayed a thousand times before, enters your mind. Head bowed, you offer up the desires of your friends to the sky, hopes for a balmy breeze and warm sun. And as quickly as it came, the rain began to slow, clouds dispersing in the breeze.

Tanaka gives a holler, fist pumping in the air, while Yachi lets go of your sleeve, letting out a sigh.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she chirps, sending you a small smile. Looping her arm with yours she rests her head on your shoulder, giggling at Tanaka as he swings his arms around, lost in the story he was telling.

You smile softly at your friends, briefly eyeing the sky, and offering a small thanks. There are some days where a blue sky can change everything, it can lift spirits, bring joy, and you certainly weren’t gonna let it rain tonight, not during the festival everyone’s so excited for.

“Y/N!” Tanaka’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and he waggles his eyebrows. “I asked if you’re meeting your fox tonight.” You roll your eyes as Yachi makes a noise of excitement.

“I mean that’s the plan? I’ve never meant him in person though,” you sigh, face feeling warm. A large arm loops around your shoulder, forcing both you and Yachi closer to him.

“Yea, I’m sure you get up to a lot in those dreams.” Tanaka barks out a laugh, and you shove him away.

“It’s not like that! I’ve told you. He’s always a fox.” Yachi pets your arm, nodding in an understanding manner.

“Of course, Y/N. Of course.” You fume, pulling your arm away from her and crossing your arms.

“I’m not lying. Why would I lie about this?” She giggles, while Tanaka shakes his head.

“Will he be at the festival?” Your lips purse and you nod, eyes cast down.

“Yea, but I don’t know when or where,” you sigh. Tanaka strokes his chin in thought.

“Well, you’ll definitely know him when you see him. He marked you after all right?” Tanaka sounds so confident, so sure, and Yachi nods in agreement.

“He made you a sunshine girl and you talk with him all the time.”

Their confidence fills you with an electric excitement. You were finally going to meet your fox. You were going to meet Atsumu.  

Except he doesn’t show up.

Minutes slowly pile onto one another, adding up to hours. The sun dips down, and you’re left in the glow from the stalls, trying to ignore the way your stomach sinks and the looks your friends send you when they think you can’t see.

It’s embarrassing, mortifying, even. You had been so excited, chattering away about Atsumu, only for him to stand you up. And Tanaka and Yachi try to make you feel better, dragging you around to different stalls, paying for all sorts of snacks and treats. But after the 4th pity dessert, you excuse yourself, saying you need to take a walk.

The farther you walk away from the festival, the quieter it gets, the silence and cool air helping you clear your mind.

So what? You had been stood up. That happens all the time to people. But it's not every day the spirit who had blessed you breaks his promise. Your feet slow to a stop, and you bite your lip, trying to hold back the stinging tears that threaten to fall.

Your head tilts back, eyes taking in the cloudless sky. Would he have told you the same jokes he had in your dreams? Would he have bought you food? Would he even have money? Would he still help you bring the sun? You sigh wiping weakly at your eyes, before two golden eyes catch your attention.

A fox sits before you, tail swaying excitedly behind it. You crouch down before it, eyes widening as realization dawns on you.

“Are you my spirit? My kitsune?” you whisper, looking for any signs of recognition or intelligence. It blinks at you, head cocking to the side blankly. Warmth settles over you in an embarrassment. He stood you up; he wouldn’t show up now. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, even if you aren’t him.”

You rise brushing non-existent dirt off your thighs. Giving the fox a small wave before you turn your back.

You’ve taken maybe three steps before arms encircle your waist, and you’re held flush against something warm and hard.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” a low and somewhat familiar voice growls in your ear. You’re wiggling in his arms when he spins you, and you’re met with a new face that is way too close to yours But he’s handsome.

Blonde hair with dark roots, dreamy eyes, a smile that threatens to devour you alive. His yukata is half open, allowing your eyes easy access to his skin. You can see a tail flicker behind him in your peripheral, but you’re too focused on his eyes, how hypnotic they are. You swallow past the lump in your throat, taking in the two fuzzy fox ears that sit in his hair.

“Oh.”

His eyes widen, before his head tilts back, a burst of loud laughter filling the quiet air. Your stomach flips, and you try to squirm out of his arms, a bashful feeling overcoming you. But his hands curl into you, claws almost painful, but keeping you close. When his laughter subsides, he sends you another easy grin.

“You finally meet your almighty kitsune in the flesh, and all you can say is ‘oh.’” Hands settling against his chest, you blink dumbly at him, as recognition finally dawns on you.

It’s him.

You’ve heard him in your dreams so often, it’s utterly embarrassing you didn’t know soon enough, but it’s Atsumu. You cry out, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him against you. He nuzzles into you, laughing and tightening his hold.

“Hi.” It’s a whisper against your neck, and it sends a chill down your spine, reminding you of the impropriety of the position you’re in. You drop your arms, stiffening against him. Atsumu pulls back, corners of his lips pulled down in a small frown. “Why so shy?” Your eyes drop down, and his arms loosen, allowing you to draw back.

“This is different than in my dreams,” you murmur, not sure how else to explain that reconciling your pre-existing idea of Atsumu being a fox with the broad, handsome man before you isn’t going to happen immediately. But he doesn’t seem to understand, hands moving to cup your face.

“I’m sure it is.” Half-lidded eyes meet yours, and his nose brushes against yours, and your mind feels cloudy with the overload of information. “Let me make my little follower feel good..” He trails off, pressing a sweet kiss into your cheek. You bite your lip, brows pinching together in thought.

“I don’t know…”

“Why not?” he mutters into your neck, leaving stinging kisses up your neck, against your jaw. His hands travel to rest on your hips, squeezing the flesh there.

“You stood me up,” you pout, brows pinching in annoyance. Remorse ripples on his face, tail gently swaying behind him.

“I only want to see you. No one else. I was waiting. Do you know why?” Dark eyes spark in question, waiting. You shake your head, head feeling stuffy, letting him move your arms to wrap around his neck again.

“I want you alone, my sweet little sunshine girl. I’m sorry I wasn’t clear. Let me make it up to you,” he coos, canine teeth poking out from his dangerous smile. His nose brushes against yours, eyes burning into you.

“Oh.” Atsumu barks out a laugh, head resting against your shoulder, fuzzy ears tickling your cheek.

“There you go again with an ‘oh,’” he murmurs, hands pulling you flush against him again. “Will you let me make you feel good?” He squeezes at your waist again, tail softly brushing up and down your leg. Something hot and dangerous flows through your body, desire blooming inside you, and without thinking about the implications, you nod.

“Ok.”

He shoots you a roguish grin that makes your stomach flip. A warm hand grasps yours dragging you past the tree line, deeper and deeper into the dark, until he stops, yanking you back into his arms.

“No one will find us here,” he murmurs nipping at your neck, ears twitching. You look around at the empty clearing.

“Are you sure?” you whimper, tugging at his hair as his hands slip beneath your skirt.

“I’m positive, little human.” His hand glosses over your rapidly dampening panties. His lips ghost over yours, eyes alight with a burning fire. “Now let me make you feel good.”

Atsumu surges forward, warm lips meeting yours. Your hands grapple into his hair, letting out a little whimper as his hand slips beneath your panties. His tongue slides into your mouth, ring and index finger gently spreading your folds. A whine leaves your throat when his calloused middle finger swipes through your slick. He drags the wetness up and around your clit, teasing the sensitive bud and making your legs tremble.

He pulls away from you, leaving your brain feeling thick as honey, and he brings a shiny finger to his mouth - the one that was in between your legs, you realize. Something hot courses through your body as his cheeks hollow out, eyes narrowed in on yours. Releasing his finger with a pop, he licks his lips, smirking at you.

“I’m going to eat you alive.” Your pussy clenches at his words, and his lips are on yours again. It’s messier this time, more aggressive, his sharp canines poking into you, the rough pad of his tongue trying to explore your mouth. Atsumu drops to his knees, pulling you down with him. He pushes you back into the grass, settling in between your legs.

A clawed hand gently pulls down your panties, and his thumb brushes over the wet spot. He takes a sniff at the fabric, eyes cruelly taking in your embarrassed face, and his tongue shoots out, lapping at your arousal.

“Atsumu,” you hiss, hands covering your face. A bark of laughter reaches your ears, and you feel your skirt being pushed up slowly. It’s only when you feel a hot presence hovering in between your thighs that you peek through your fingers.

Atsumu shoots you a sardonic grin before pressing his face into the warmth of your cunt, shutting his eyes, and inhaling deeply through his nose. You sit up, hands dropping, curling into the soft grass beneath you.

“Atsumu! Don’t do that!” you cry out, trying and failing to shut your thighs. His eyes blink open, and he sniffs at your cunt again.

“You smell good.” His hand lands on your torso, gently pushing you back down. “Human.”

You inhale shakily as he continues to inhale, fingers gently pulling at your pussy. With a certain tenderness, his tongue swipes at your folds, making you shiver, fingers digging into the earth. He hums happily before diving in.

A pathetic noise leaves your mouth as he groans into your dripping cunny. Squelching noises fill the air as he sucks and slurps, tongue circling your clit. You rock against him brainlessly, humping his face as you gush. It briefly crosses your mind that his fangs could do some serious damage, but it feels too good for you to care.

He paws at your clothing, shoving things away until you’re left with only your skirt bunched around your waist. His hands slide up, gently pressing into the newly exposed skin. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking at the bud.

You thrash under him, fingers tangling into his hair as your thighs squeeze around his head. Atsumu moans against you, rough tongue pushing into your sopping cunny. He curls the muscle, thrusting in and out as you buck against him.

“Gonna cum, ‘Tsumu,” you moan, pulling him tight against you. Eyes hazy, he thumbs at your clit, groaning as your pussy clenches, gushing into his mouth. You babble, fingers brushing at his fuzzy ears. It feels so good, so right, cumming on his face. You writhe against him, as your orgasm gradually subsides. And then ever so gently, Atsumu’s claw scratches at your clit, making you cry out. You weakly tug at his hair, catching his attention as he continues to lap away.

“’Tsumu no more,” you whine. “Wanna kiss you.” And you watch as he melts against your thigh, eyes darkening he finally relents, pulling away from your cunt. Lips glistening, he crawls up your body, before stopping above you. With a grin, he drops down, crushing you with his weight. You let out a puff of air, but you can’t help to laugh as his thighs bracket yours, letting him support some of his weight. He watches you fondly, tail stroking your leg.

“I was gonna make you squirt. But next time, hmmm.” You preen at his words, fingers rubbing at the base of his ears, pushing him down to meet your lips again. He hums happily, tail brushing against the inside of your thighs. You shiver and let out a small moan, cunt already feeling needy and desperate again.

“’Tsumu,” you whine again, this time grinding against him.

“Gonna have to say it,” he teases, sending you a smile that you find infuriating.

“Want you inside of me.” Your brows pinch in frustration, as you continue to try and rock up against him. He tuts as you, finger barely slipping into you fluttering pussy.

“Like this?” His voice is low in your ear, a dark taunt that makes you gush under him.

“Quit messing around!” you yelp, weakly batting at his chest. Atsumu laughs, pulling his finger out and pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. His hard cock, lines up with your gushing cunny, and he drags the tip of his cock up and down, nudging your clit.

“Say it.” His eyes are dark, demanding, giving you no room to pout and whine your way out of having to say it.

“I want your cock inside of me,” you moan, squirming under his attention.

“Oh? You think you’re ready?” You nod pulling at his hair as you continue to swivel your hips, trying to force his cock inside of you.

“I can take it, I know I can! I’ll be good!” you cry out, shame evaporating as he begins to push in. Atsumu nuzzles against your neck, peppering kisses against the exposed skin.

“You’re always good to me.”

And with that, he bottoms out. You squeal at the stretch, legs locking around him forcing him to still as you adjust. His tail brushes against your legs reassuringly.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He grunts, nipping at your neck. “My perfect little human, so hot and creamy inside.” You clench at his words, nails dragging against his back. Your legs loosen, giving him room to draw back. He moans as his hips pull back, your gummy walls trying to keep him inside.

Atsumu slams back in, making you squeak out his name. You whimper as your body

“Gonna let me cum in this pussy?” He mutters in your ear, making your pussy tighten. “Gonna let me claim you? Breed you?” You nod, mindlessly babbling, as you tug at his ears. “That’s right, you’re mine. Mine, mine, mine.” You grind up against him, trying to meet his thrusts.

“Yours. Please. I’m gonna-” His teeth sink into your shoulder, making you scream. You clamp around him, legs shaking as you cunny flutters. He moans as you buck against him, feeling overwhelmed by the velvety heat of your cunny.

“I know you are! Cum for me, just like that. That’s a good little sunshine girl,” he coos, eyes rolling into the back of his head as you cream around him.

“Want your cum!” you slur, mind still reeling, pussy feeling extra sensitive as he continues to thrust.

“Fuck, really gonna let me, huh? That’s my little human.” Atsumu licks at the bite mark on your shoulder. When his hips stutter against yours, he groans your name, thighs tensing. You tighten your legs and arms around him, trying to pull him into you as hot cum fills you.

Atsumu collapses on you with a moan, leaving little kisses along your neck. His cock softens inside you, but he makes no effort to pull out, hands squeezing your waist. His tail swishes along your legs, the repetitive motion slowing your mind.

“You know. Earlier you said I’m always good to you, but you got it backwards,” you yawn, drowsiness clouding your brain. “You’re so good to me. Make me feel special and keep me company in my dreams. You always help me make the sun come out.” Atsumu stiffens at that, and you furrow your brows at the change. 

“Atsumu? Are you-“ but he cuts you off with a tight squeeze, nuzzling into your hair.

“Real tired, baby. Just wanna lay here with you.” You nod against him, softly petting his tail as exhaustion overtakes you. ✨