#not sure why they do this bc originally I thought it must be because they’re too hot

[otaku553]

*puts a random squirrel in your mailbox* happy new year<3

Happy new year!! Thank you for the squirrel I’ll take good care of it :)))

Here’s a squirrel for you:

[specific-dreamer]

it’s me…. the ghost of askbox-mas past…… back to offer you an olive branch for cheating on you with everyandanything that one time 😭😭😭😭😭

I’ve tortured them enough, I must return to my original victim 🤝 so I bring you…… a resurrection au……….. there was a show I was obsessed with when I was like 12 where a bunch of people in this small town started coming back to life still at the same age they were when the died and I- recently found it again and ofc had 8million thoughts bc I can’t consume anything without turning it into an au including my favorite characters 👹 the idea quite literally has nothing to do with the show except for the coming back from the dead thing but regardless !!!!!! let’s get into it… and by it I mean 😏 bare bones bullet point excerpts 😏

johnny cade hath risen ! he wakes up in the water, the sun almost red as it begins to set, cold and alone and dark beneath the surface he kicks through, the thin layer of frost settling over top breaking over his head and melting away. he can’t tell whether he should be panicking or not, he most certainly remembers slipping away in the hospital small and dead staring at the bright lights in his room, he recognizes the trees as he pulls himself out of the cold water and onto the scratchy half green half yellow grass. that big one with the sparse but curly leaves used to mostly hide behind a rotting wooden steeple…. if he sniffs the air he might be able to smell fire, it almost dries him up, those imaginary flames, the church… the kids… the trees. windrixville? but how? how was there water here… a storm maybe? most of all, as he rolls onto his back letting himself catch breath that he didn’t realize he’d been missing out on, how the /fuck/ is he here? why? his heart or something like it hammers inside him a million different memories hitting him at once.

(the church set from the movie is underwater in present day so it’s ummm 100% going in the notebook lmao)

he’d been walking for hours now, slowly drying off as he follows the train tracks as best as he remembers back to Tulsa. his legs are shaky, unused for he’s not sure how long, and his fingers are frozen despite tucking his hands in his armpits, the sun leaves behind a few pink clouds as the sky turns dark. he stops beneath a street light and looks out at the town that had snuck up on him, familiar but not quite as inviting, shadows from trees and street signs spiking out on the blacktop as if they don’t want him there, as if they’re keeping his own neighborhood from him, his clothes are still wet but he isn’t sure if his trembling is because of the cold or something different.

it doesn’t take long for him to find the lot, to pass it by and turn down the block. he moves without having to think about it, muscle memory or something he’d heard of, he knows where he wants to go before anything. a patter of tiny feet crunches over the leaves in the street and race beneath a car in some random’s driveway and he about jumps out of his skin, he approaches the car slowly, against his better judgment he supposes, and kneels to look under it, barely able to see in the dark even with another street light above him. two glowing eyes peer back at him and there’s a low growling sound coming from its head. he recognizes her, a little cat he had befriended the year before everything and happened, she’d been scraggly and young and attached herself to him pretty quickly. he calls to her, “missy” psst-ing between his teeth and snapping his fingers softly to coax her out, she comes, sniffing his hand on low-to-the-ground legs with flat ears and spiked back fur before she growls again and hisses, swatting him with her paw. a long scratch down his pointer finger beginning to drip on the sidewalk. he stands and watches her hiss again and swat again this time at his shoe before scampering away into the bushes, tries not to let it hurt his feelings too much that his kitty doesn’t seem to recognize him anymore… or maybe it was that cats could smell death, he thinks he’d heard that before, maybe Two drunk and rambling… or Buck making awkward conversation while waiting on Dal… or Pony… /Pony/… he wipes his finger off on a wet patch on his vest and keeps going on..

at least he can still bleed… gotta count for something right? ghosts can’t… or shouldn’t…

the porch is still lit up at whatever time it is now since he’d gotten out of the church-lake. he reaches over the gate and unhooks the hatch, letting it swing itself open for a bit before stepping onto the concrete walkway with jittery breath caught in his lungs. the old car is still sitting in the weeds but small flowers grow up with them. the screen is closed but the main door stays open and he can hear the commotion inside, laughing, TV, something sizzling on the stove. he hugs himself while he makes his way up the stoop, sucking in air as he taps his knuckles on the spotty black metal. one of the people inside the house calls something over their shoulder, moving through shadow and opening the door, and…

Johnny had seen Darry mad hundreds of times, lots of the time he could understand why too though he’d never tell that to Pony in a million years, but this feels different. the comfortable smile on his face falls away in a second, replaced by /Anger/ and something sort of like disgust, like something in his drink is sour, like he’s three seconds away from throwing said drink in his face. “another one” he calls over his shoulder. johnny steps back confused. “dar-” “we let you boys have your fun but it’s time to stop, ‘know you’re really lucky he ain’t here or I don’t think I’d be able to stop-” he cuts himself off flaring his nose, “I don’t wanna be gettin no kids in trouble but I’ll take you to the station myself if I have’ta”

“dar what’s the-” sodapop appears over his shoulder and makes that same face.

🪦🪱🏚️🍃

…….bye !

first, bullet points my ass. this is half a fic and i am hooked, loudly requesting the rest

wdym another one are the socs doing this often wtf and why was he all the way back at the church omg

second what show is this ?? i’m hooked and now i’d like to watch it akjssj

[dykesynthezoid]

Been formulating my thoughts on that post about kids books with challenging subject matter you reblogged the other day... the funny thing is I'm pretty sure there IS an established thing with middle-grade kids being like "ugh why does the dog always have to die in these books 🙄" (anyone remember that Gordon Korman book "No More Dead Dogs"?) but it has nothing to do with them being too fragile to take it and more to do with there being such an established canon of kid's books where a dog dies at the end that the ending is too predictable and kids are BORED by it. Like in the original tweet that sparked the discourse, wasn't it a 6th grader making the comment? At that age kids are less emotionally fragile and more cynical, in their own youthful way. Like you said, they can take it!! It's just up to the school board to, idk, teach these things in an interesting way I guess. Maybe through the lense of greek tragedy? Like "yeah we all know the dog is gonna beef it, but let's pay attention to how that's built up and foreshadowed", etc.

I honestly hadn’t thought about that, but it probably really is a factor. Bc children’s media does have a whole lot of tropes, and when kids get to an age where they’re trying to challenge themselves (or are being challenged in schools) running into the same tropes over and over and over must be grating.

I do think the number one reaction for a kid when a dog dies in a movie or book is at first a sense of betrayal (honestly, it’s a reaction I still have as an adult, lmao). Like, “hey, wait a minute!”

But if that was a plot event you’d only ever seen once or twice, it would be more confounding and intriguing, and less frustrating and overdone. So yeah, after a whole lot of that I wouldn’t be surprised some kids are rolling their eyes.

I didn’t necessarily notice it as a trope myself as a kid; but that was probably because when I was young enough to read children’s books I was mostly reading things like adventure and fantasy stories, or even mysteries. Meanwhile I think tropes like the dog dying at the end is more common in contemporary stories, which I wasn’t reading very many of.

(And by the time I was reading other genres, the books I was reading were mostly adult. And “by the time” I mean by like, 12, bc l started at a school that was pretty academically rigorous; my 7th grade English teacher had us reading Gogol. Which is all to say I’m maybe not the best person to comment on this tbh, since I kinda missed out on that aspect of being a young reader; so take this all with a grain of salt!)

But yeah I love the idea of at least like. Changing the lens through which children are taught books to keep them engaged. It does so much so draw them in to the story, to make them care enough to meet it halfway. Which isn’t easy! Kids have a lot going on, especially these days, and it’s no wonder they’re just going to check out if they get bored with their learning material.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

SOOO usually I don’t pay attention to rude/hate comments because they’re silly at the most, BUUUT I just received a comment accusing me of stealing my own writing theory from some writer I didn't even know existed until ten minutes ago AND while it didn't bother me at first, I'm now so appalled by the action and what it reveals about how we treat people who are volunteering their ideas because they love it (like me!).

It's SO easy to watch a video someone worked hard on and then immediately rush to the comments to say the advice was copied because (from what I assume) there's no wayyyy someone could understand writing craft if they're not my favourite writer (or a man)!! << this train of thought is so silly and sooo disrespectful to people like me who are sharing knowledge online. I LOVE teaching on YouTube which is why I share my writing theories--and it's so irritating when someone automatically assumes you couldn't possibly have thought of what you did without having copied it (for what reason? my gender? race? age?).

AND I must also add that there are youtubers who've built MEGA platforms by stealing writing advice without crediting their sources (which is something I'm very sensitive to because I think it's important to link back to teachers when you can), and those people continue to grow/earn/market on the platform. If I learn something from someone else, I always try my absolute best to credit them (but 99% of the advice on my channel/on here come from my own brain--I'm not sure why it's so unbelievable that someone could think of something themselves!).

I should also say that this person was saying I copied what is essentially basic western story structure. Like!!! Go talk to Aristotle then!!! we are not about to gatekeep basic ass story structure!!!

I love what I do so much and I also love that I can help people learn more about writing craft for free. I don't think there should be a price tag on knowledge (I say this as someone who paid for a writing education--I HATE the paywall on knowledge), so I'm very passionate about sharing things I've learned through ten years of experience. I don't love silly accusations that would then need to be repeated to the hundreds of writers before me who also thought of something similar. When I shared this theory memo with my workshop this year, even my prof was surprised by how simple it was--it's not the originality of the steps that is effective in my memo (you cannot have originality when the advice is for BASIC western story structure), it's the way I've explained and interrogated them myself, and that's why the memo is successful.

If knowing basic western story structure (character in situation > situation gets worse > situation gets EVEN WORSE > situation better <3) is copying... girl...

ANYWAY rant over just to say that I never look for gratitude when I post because I make vids for me (bc I love filmmaking and editing <3), but it's incredibly disheartening to receive comments like this. You see this so often where people forget "content creators" are human beings with brains who think of things themselves and also have feelings. So yes! A PSA that if I reference someone else's writing theory in a video or on here, I will credit them to the best of my ability (like I have for the last several years).

Ok lots of love <3

rachel writes accused of plagiarism on youtube dot com

[yesimwriting]

All The Good Dreams

A/n this one is based on a request from @ateliefloresdaprimavera who requested a fic where General Kirigan has been dreaming of the reader for as long as he can remember and that’s one of his few reasons to smile and the reader has been having the same kinds of dreams about him and when they meet they just know. 

This one is being written in third person bc it’s the only way I can see this fic being done but I’m a little insecure about writing in third person so be gentle lol

Also a little personal update I’ve been working on my original novel and it’s coming together y’all!!

--

ALEKSANDER. 

The morning sunlight seems to only come to take her from him, peaking through the curtains and stirring him awake and away from his dreams. Aleksander keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, trying to will her features to remain in his mind. She had looked more angelic in last night’s dream, dressed in all white and watching him with an adoration he doubted real life could duplicate. 

The girl has haunted his dreams like a ghost of promise since before he began to change the world. Since before anything in his life was solidified. He lets out a sigh, something similar to a smile playing at his lips. Thinking of her would not bring her to him, if he could manifest her, she’d be by his side right now. He has things to do, duties and obligations that will bring his final goal closer. Each day is a step closer to victory, and each night brings the promise of dreams. The promise of her. 

--

Y/N.

“Y/n.” The voice is gentle and distant. “Y/n,” a little harsher. “Wake up, you’ll be late.” 

Fighting against grogginess, y/n wakes up, eyes squinting open. “What time is it, Danna?” 

“Late.” Danna’s reply is curt as she steps away from y/n’s cot. “I thought you were awake already and then I came in to look for my boots and you were still asleep with that ridiculously peaceful look.” Danna paces around the room. “You must have been dreaming of your prince again?” 

Y/n feels her skin warm. “He’s not a prince!” It’s a weak defense. “I regret telling you that almost every time I dream I see the same man.” 

Danna drops down, grabbing her worn boots and pulling them on quickly. “You’re making me believe in soulmates, l/n.” 

Y/n rolls her eyes, sitting up and placing her feet on the ground at her own leisure. “It’s nothing like that--I’m not even sure he exists.” 

Lacing her shoes, Danna narrows her eyes at y/n. “Sure.” Y/n opens her mouth to protest, but Danna beats her to it, “If you need to argue with me, do it while getting dressed, we can’t be late today--General Kirigan’s visiting this camp for the first time and I doubt he’d appreciate being interrupted by a non-Grisha medic.” 

At that, y/n wrinkles her nose, but she stands anyway. “Ugh...Grisha.” She walks towards her uniform. “They can get away with anything and I hear Kirigan’s the worst of all of them because he’s in the same order as the Black Heretic that began all of this.” Y/n pauses, crossing her arms. “And it’s ridiculous that the army even needs non-Grisha medics. Healers exist and they should not be primarily reserved for other Grisha who rarely get injured, especially to the extent that the rest of us do.” 

“I know, y/n, but don’t speak like that until the General is gone.” Danna draws her lips into a thin line. “And hurry up before you get us both in trouble.” 

Y/n lets out a sigh. “Go ahead without me, I’ll catch up.”

Danna eyes her friend wearily. “Alright, worse comes to worse I’ll try to cover for you.” 

“You won’t need to.” Y/n isn’t sure she believes herself. “I’ll be there.” 

Danna pulls on her second boot, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t really believe you.” She stands easily. “But knowing you, you’ll talk yourself out of any trouble the way you always do.” 

“I do not always talk myself out of trouble.” 

Turning to leave, Danna pauses, “Whatever you need to tell yourself.” 

Y/n rolls her eyes. If she had more time to argue with Danna she would take it. But she doesn’t. She’s quick to get dressed, thoughts of the mysterious stranger from her dreams keeping her company. Last night he seemed more tired than normal, a crease between his dark eyebrows as he sat by her side. A part of her she keeps buried worries about him. It’s ridiculous, to concern yourself over a figment of comfort your mind created for you. 

By the time y/n’s changed, she knows she doesn’t have much time to get to her station. She’s rushing out of her tent, one boot still untied. The medic bag she slings over her shoulder swings as she jogs towards the medical tent. Today the camp is hectic, everyone desiring to appear efficient and reliable for General Kirigan. It’s all ridiculous to Y/n. General Kirigan will never be impressed by them. If he’s revered even among Grisha, Y/n can’t imagine the superiority complex that man must possess.

Her eyes scan the soldiers and workers she knows so well, each of them behaving so differently than normal. There is no friendly chatter this morning, no casual banter. There is only the business of war. 

Y/n watches the people she knows, so focused on their nerves that she barely registers the person she crashes into. “Sorry!” The apology leaves Y/n on instinct.  Her bag falls off her shoulder, gauze and antiseptic falling onto the ground on impact. Y/n bends down instantly, beginning to pick up her supplies. She mentally curses herself for being so easily distracted and not properly shutting her bag this morning. “Everything’s so hectic today and I was running late and I just--I have no idea how I didn’t see you.” She drops her supplies back into her bag. “I guess it’s a good thing they keep me off the battlefield and in the medical tents.” 

Reaching for the last of her supplies, Y/n’s eyes land on the shoes of the person she just crashed into. They’re leather. The fine kind of leather meant for marble halls, not trekking through the unknown. Y/n’s mouth goes dry as the possibility of the graveness of her mistake sets in her mind. She exhales slowly, daring to look upwards as she closes her bag. 

When her eyes meet those of the stranger, she is left with no choice but to gape. She’s not staring because she’s now at the mercy of General Kirigan. She’s not staring because nothing could have prepared her for his beauty. She’s staring because she knows that face. She knows those sharp features and steady eyes.

His lips are slightly parted. Y/n is struck with the odd thought that perhaps he too has words wedged into his throat. 

“It’s you.” The whisper leaves her faintly. 

The words seem to unfreeze Kirigan, his expression moving from shocked to stoic. “Excuse me?” 

Awkward regret floods through Y/n. She drops her head downwards, desperate to escape the power of his gaze. “General Kirigan.” She uses her words as a way to dismiss the emotions her chest seems to be brimming with as she stands. He’s not the man from her dreams. That’s impossible. “I apologize for my inappropriate behavior an--” 

“No, no,” he shakes his head once. Y/n bites her tongue at his dismissal. “You said ‘it’s you.’”

Embarrassment knots her stomach. “I just hadn’t realized that I ran into you, General. I--I knew you were coming today, but I wasn’t expecting to see you much less like this.” 

Kirigan’s eyes seem to be nothing more than inviting pools of kindling emotion. So familiar yet so distinct. He can’t be the man from her dreams. The man from her dreams must be nothing more than a composition of traits she finds generally attractive. General Kirigan just happens to possess those features. That explanation is the only thing that keeps Y/n’s feet rooted to the ground, but the longer she looks at him the more that explanation loses its strength. There’s just something so knowing behind his expression, so specific to the face that she’s only seen while asleep. 

Tearing his gaze away to scan the area, Kirigan reaches forward, placing a hand on Y/n’s arm. The touch leaves Y/n warmer than it should. Maybe that’s why she lets him lead her forward, ducking into an empty medical tent. She keeps hold of her bag as he turns, his eyes full of something dark and unknown. But not angry, Y/n notes, no, not angry. The look is too peaceful for rage, perhaps even hopeful. 

“When you looked at me…” He exhales, voice low and sacred, “You said ‘it’s you’.” Y/n can only blink, still mesmerized by something so foreign and familiar all at once. “Do you know me?” 

In his urgency, Kirigan’s hold on Y/n’s arm becomes more assured. Something in Y/n wants to pry herself free in order to prove to herself that she’s capable of resisting his drawl. But his touch is not to trap her, the look in his eyes tells her that. His touch is pleading--desperate and hopeful. 

“Everyone knows you,” when Y/n finally finds her voice, she is not convinced it is her own. 

The corners of Kirigan’s mouth fall downwards, something in him threatening to deflate. “I meant--have you seen me before?” The question is not one Y/n is too willing to answer. How could she tell this strange man, this general she was convinced she’d dislike on some fundamental level while never speaking to him, that she knows him? She knows him like she knows her own beginning. “Because I’ve seen you.” 

Y/n can’t help the way her eyes widen. This doesn’t mean anything, she warns herself, he could have seen her walking. “I didn’t see you, that--that’s why I ran into you--” 

“No, you’re avoiding the question.” Her face is warmer than it was when Danna was teasing her this morning. It’s warmer than it’s ever been. “Because you’ve experienced it as well.” 

The swelling in her chest is overwhelming. “Experienced what?” 

Kirigan eyes the entrance to the tent once more, confirming that no one is approaching. “All of the good dreams,” he exhales, “They have been of you.” 

Y/n can’t help the way everything in her melts. She’s not insane. She’s not projecting something dangerous onto the Shadow Summoner. “I see you in my dreams always.” 

Slowly, he releases his grip on her arm. Watching her like she might be a mirage, Kirigan raises his hand, brushing his knuckles along Y/n’s cheek. She lets him, holding her breath until his hand falls back to his side. A part of Kirigan expected the girl to be a trick of the light, something that his touch would reveal to be a fallacy. But she remains true, watching him with eyes the size of saucers. 

“How long I’ve been waiting for you, you’ll never know.” His voice is as heavy as a lament. 

Y/n feels her back straighten slightly on instinct, desperate to pass whatever scrutiny is being passed over her. “How--how does this happen? How do two strangers dream of each other for so long and...” 

Something knowing colors his smile a shade of ambitious green. “What is your name?” 

“Y/n.” 

Kirigan’s minds flit through lifetimes worth of faint memories. The girl laughing, the girl teary eyed, the girl embodying all the stars he’ll never have, the girl representing all he needs. Y/n. There’s finally a name to her. 

“Y/n,” the name is a gift. Kirigan pulls a ring from his fingers before grabbing Y/n’s arm. Too lost in a strange euphoria, she lets him pull her arm forward before pressing his ring into her skin. Her brow furrows as he begins to guide the metal down her skin. That slight confusion quickly turns to total shock as a thread of light begins to spindle down her skin, following the path he’s creating with the ring. “You and I are going to change the world.” 

--

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag @kaitlyn2907

[riverstardis]

crazy little thing called love:

the previous episode’s post isn’t showing up in the tag for some reason? not for me at least

alicia’s parents are back together… but not for long!

cal’s leaving alicia a surprise in her locker because he feels bad about not trusting her but he discovers that she has a second phone💀

ah alicia’s dad’s “business partner”

oh look they’re kissing!

aand he ends up pinned against a skip by his car🙃

LMAOO alicia goes “ethan you remember my mam yeah?” and he goes “yes, you had the gonorrhoea! … sorry…” SKDKFKKFG WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT😭😭😭 ohhh i miss him

oh yeah this is cal meeting alicia’s parents for the first time lol

i love dylan’s outfit

oop cal’s noticed martin holding howard’s hand

lmaoo ethan telling cal how it was awkward having to treat alicia’s mum after the whole sti thing and cal just didn’t know about that at all so ethan explains how she got it off the dad because “apparently he was sleeping around with other women” and cal’s like “well i’m not sure about that last part” 😭😭😭

cal says do you think being a player runs in the family and shows ethan alicia’s secret phone and guesses her pin because she’d leant him her bank card to get drinks one night (her pin is 4421 if anyone was wondering - for her bank and her secret phone💀)

she has flirty messages with “loverboy” that mention scrubs so they know it must be someone in the hospital

it always makes me laugh how ethan is very clearly just as upset, if not more upset, than cal is at this development, and not in a supportive brother way! but cal just doesn’t notice at all😭

cal tries to say martin can’t come into resus but alicia’s like “come on cal, martin and my dad are close” and cal’s like “you’re telling me”😬😬 so of course they then have to come clean

alicia telling them the origin of her nickname ‘scoobie’🥺🥺

“i always loved you jackie, i never lied about that. but you knew my parents, you think my father would’ve accepted a gay son 40 years ago? my friends? so i did what everyone was telling me to do, i conformed. and then i met you and we had alicia, my beautiful little girl, and suddenly i’ve got everything in the world to lose”😥😥

aww he’d been with martin for over 9 years

gem’s had 2 weeks added on to her sentence

cal’s now having second thoughts about meeting up with alicia’s “mystery man” because “maybe sometimes things are better left alone” and ethan goes “we need to know, cal” WE???? then he corrects himself “i mean, you need to know”😭😭😭 ohh ethan you’re soo lucky cal’s distracted

LMAOO louise getting noel and max to model wedding dresses for duffy

“loverboy” turns out to be max and he’s SO confused. ethan’s like “you’re sleeping with alicia? behind his back?” well one of you certainly did! max is still so confused bc he didn’t know he’d been talking to alicia and ethan PUNCHES HIM AND CAL HAS TO HOLD HIM BACK😭😭

that’s soo out of left field for ethan and i remember people at the time theorising that this was a sign of his huntington’s starting as aggression irritability and mood swings are often some of the first symptoms and even now i still think that makes the most sense. with hindsight idk if that’s what the writers were actually going for because they never made it explicit or anything but it could be! the psychiatric symptoms often start years before motor symptoms (the prodromal stage) and ofc from cal’s death onwards it’s impossible to pick out what’s caused by hd from what’s caused by, well, literally everything else, but at this point this really stands out. he’s obviously hurt and angry, as is cal, but his reaction is so extreme and sudden, like his emotional response has been exaggerated

tbh the writers probably just thought it was funny to have ethan reacting in a way that’s obviously not just anger on cal’s behalf but cal still not notice anything suspicious. and it is funny!

alicia tells them she was just pranking max😭😭

“we’ve had fun together, cal, haven’t we? why’ve we stopped?” “i do trust you” “you hardly know me, not really. which is why it worked so well before, it was just” “fun” “everything eventually falls apart when it’s held together by a lie” :( she seems like she’s about to tell him about sleeping with ethan but then she changes her mind

poor alicia :(

aw louise bursts into noel’s interview to tell them how he saved a kids life and the machines can’t do that

aww jackie realises that howard loves and needs martin and goes and tells martin to go and be with him. funny how she didn’t need to try and rape him isn’t it���🤔

LMAO charlie and duffy are practising their first dance in the staff room and some others are watching them but then dylan comes in and puts his tea in the microwave without even acknowledging them and they’re all staring at him and he genuinely doesn’t even realise why😭😭😭😭 i love him sjskdkfkk

robyn goes to cal “hey that’s gonna be you and alicia next” yeahhh i don’t think so

they’re all getting ready for the stag do and duffy says to bring charlie back in one piece lmao well they will eventually

max tries to get dylan to come but he’s like “i don’t think there’s a thing in the world worse than stag nights” but then he says they can give him a lift to the kennels because he has to pick dervla up and max is like “you can do whatever you want, you’re driving” “you what?” “everyone else has had a drink” “oh my god this day just gets better and better doesn’t it” skskfkgkgk

alicia tells cal that her parents split up but it’s probably for the best and cal’s like “yeah it’s never easy though, no matter how old you are” hmm interesting… definitely sounds like he’s implying his parents split up which again doesn’t fit with the original backstory richard winsor talked about where ethan stayed at home and had a more family oriented upbringing than cal did does it?

lmao cal makes alicia think he’s proposing and the absolute FEAR in her eyes SJSKDKFK but it’s just lingerie and he’s like “see we can still have fun together”

cal’s like “we good?” and alicia says yeah… but not for long!

alicia goes “bet you give these to all your girlfriends” and cal goes “only the ones i’m in love with” oh poor cal

lmaoo ethan gives cal his stag do t-shirt and shows him his which says ‘barry 2017 world tour “ethan-ator”’ and cal’s like “oh you are not my brother” and ethan just laughs and goes “THE ETHAN-ATOR” DNDKSKJFF just how much has he had to drink already??? he’s also wearing it OVER his shirt???

the cuff link falls out of cal’s jacket as he goes to get changed and he says to charlie “can you believe i nearly blew it all for that?” and charlie’s like “but you didn’t!” but then ethan comes back over, notices it, and goes “hey where’d you get that? i’ve been looking for that everywhere!” and cal is SHOOK but ethan has no idea what he just revealed😭😭

yay the stag the dog and the sheep time!!!!!

[pies-writes-and-more]

HIHIHI I HAVE A REQUEST IF YOURE UP FOR IT KASJHDASKD i was wondering if you could do tsukishima, akaashi, and kageyama (you dont have to do all of them if you dont want to) with a s/o who loves giving affection but doesn't really take it *seriously* when they recieve it? like they think that the character is joking bc they could never actually be that amazing? (sry if this made absolutely no sense just ignore it if you want kaskjasd)

Warnings: potentially some swearing, Akaashi saying “good girl” which I do think deserves a warning, Y/N having some insecure moments, but all fluffy endings promise!

Characters: Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji, & Kageyama Tobio, all with a fem!Reader

A/N: okay @lucyheartfilias-wife i know this took foREVER for me to finish and I’m so sorry xD but i kept going back and forth between ideas so this is what we ended up with! I hope they’re decent enough!! <3 Not of the following gifs are mine! Creds to the original creators :)

Haikyuu Masterlist

Tsukishima Kei

If Tsukishima knew one thing, it was that he was a lucky boy. Somehow he had managed to make a girl who was probably made of sunshine and rainbows, like him back and somehow figured out how to keep you around.

Although he always had an annoyed look on his face when they did, anytime the team asked about you or mentioned you to him, he was always happy to subtly brag about you.

“Our little Tsukishima has grown up hasn’t he?” Sugawara laughed, slapping pats to the back of the tall first year. “You’re not blackmailing her are you?” Tsukishima just rolled his eyes in response.

“It must be nice to have such a pretty girl around!” Noya whined loudly, punching the wall angrily.

“It is,” Tsukishima smirked, enjoying the immediate anger that Noya tried to turn on him. Daichi held the wild libero back with an exasperated smiled, shaking his head.

“She’s really smart too isn’t she?” Hinata gaped, having only really heard of this girl that Tsukishima was dating but Yamaguchi said it was a girl in their class so she had to be smart.

“Anyone’s smart compared to you,” Tsukishima scoffed but shrugged. “She’s the top of our class.”

Everyone made sounds of excitement and surprise, the upperclassmen nodding in approval, “Who knew this salty bean pole could find someone smart and pretty to like him back?” Tanaka snickered and Tsukishima just rolled his eyes.

You hadn’t meant to overhear the conversations happening in the club room but you were just waiting for your boyfriend against the railing. To say you were a bit embarrassed was an understatement. And that embarrassment was probably written all over your face because when Tsukishima finally came out, his cheeks turned pink seeing your expression.

“What?” He asked after a beat, avoiding your eyes as he started to walk towards the stairs.

“You know you don’t have to lie to your teammates right?” You asked him eventually, giving him a small smile. “I’m sure they know you’re just being nice.”

For once, you had actually surprised Tsukishima. Normally he could tell exactly what you were thinking but this time, he actually stopped in his steps and looked at you like you had grown a second head in the last few moments.

“Lie?” He asked, tilting his head up in thought before scoffing a bit, “What part of what I said was a lie? For that matter, how much of that nonsense did you hear?”

The word nonsense rang in your ear repeatedly, echoing all your insecurities further into your subconscious, “I dunno, how much were you saying?” You retorted, glancing at him with a shrug. “Come on, I wanna get home before it gets too dark,” you decided when he didn’t answer right away. The two of you started walking, Tsukishima clearly deep in thought because for once on your way home, he wasn’t complaining about the boys or listening to music. He was just… walking.

“When did I lie?” He finally asked at your doorstep, as if realizing if he didn’t ask now, he never would. He grabbed your wrist before you could turn away and leave without answering him, tugging you closer so he could look right into your eyes (he could always tell when you were lying to him).

“What?” You squirmed a bit. You knew exactly what he was asking but did you really want to admit it?

“You said I lied to my teammates. What did I lie about?” His frown was tight, eyes as serious as ever. “I’ve been thinking about everything I said to them and I can’t think of a lie that I told. Was it about everyone being smarter than Hinata? Because I really was telling the truth.” The little smirk at the end made you feel like he was trying to keep this lighthearted. But the topic weighed so heavily on both your shoulders.

You could feel Tsukishima keeping your gaze right on him, and knew if you looked away, he might just get more upset. So you were forced to just look at him awkwardly, as if he was looking through your very thoughts.

“I asked you out didn’t I?” He continued when you didn’t respond right away. “Doesn’t that make you my girlfriend?”

You let out a little laugh, surprised that that’s what he had come up with after that very silent walk home. “Yeah, I suppose so,” you smiled, finally pulling your eyes away from him and staring at your hands as you fiddled with your fingers.

“So what-”

“They’re just being nice,” you tried to tell him awkwardly, cutting him off from asking one more time. “I’m not… I’m not everything they’re pretending I am. And you don’t have to keep up the charade with them.”

Tsukishima’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, what charade could you possibly be talking about.

“I know I’m not as pretty as your managers,” you explained quietly. “And I’m sure being surrounded by them all the time has got you having some high expectations and standards for girls. That’s why I was surprised when you asked me out… but I know it’s probably just cause we’re always together and we study together. I know I’m pretty helpful when it comes to schoolwork so-”

Tsukishima started laughing. Like genuinely, throwing his head back, from the bottom of his belly kind of laugh. Your eyes widened as you watched this normally cool and collected idiot snicker himself practically to death.

“T-Tsukishima?” You blinked, poking him a little to make sure he wasn’t just having some sort of weird seizure.

He finally ran out of breath, standing back up straighter than ever and hitting the top of your head (not as gently as he should’ve, how rude), “Listen here, shortie,” he huffed, leaning down slightly so you were forced to look at him. “I have high standards for anyone I even keep around me. The only one who’s exceeded my standards for dating though, is you.”

You watched him, blinking nervously as if he was going to laugh in your face again and tell you it was a joke.

“I didn’t lie to them, idiot,” he shook his head, flicking your forehead. “You’re way too pretty to be as self-conscious as you are.”

Words would never solve your self-consciousness, you knew this. But if there was ever a moment that would ever come close - it would be this one.

“Go inside alright,” he grinned at you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead and shoving you closer to your door. “And the next time I compliment you, you better accept it.”

You couldn’t even retort anything back before he ushered you inside, gave you a cheeky wink, and started to head home.

You were still very bad at accepting Tsukishima’s compliments and almost felt tortured with how much he could try to get you to understand how much he loved you. So naturally, Tsukishima just did it more and more.

Everything you did became a compliment, just to make you all hot headed and make him chuckle. He would praise you for being one of the smartest people he knew after a test or assignment, he’d say you were the cutest person up on the stands after his volleyball games, would just shower you in aggressive amounts of affection (well aggressive for him).

And then one day…

One day you day you didn’t fight back as much. And Tsukishima just smiled because he would never say anything to you he didn’t mean.

Akaashi Keiji

Akaashi was literally an embodiment of everything that someone could want. He was calm and wonderfully humble, his voice was like a mellow song that you could fall asleep to and he had the most amazing biceps that just made your heart flutter every time you saw them.

He was everything you could ever dream of which was both incredible… and not at the same time. It almost hurt to know that he was this unobtainable boy standing near you. Sure, you were dating - but how long until he realized you were beneath him? How much longer would it take him to realize that there was better.

You couldn’t hide these thoughts from Akaashi and more often than not, he’d give you a look like I know what you’re thinking, stop that, and then tell you he loves you before you just nod and smile and try to focus on something else. He’d let it go there, but he’d probably spend the rest of the day with you trying to convince you he really meant it.

But today he wasn’t next to you to read your face. Today, he was going to be down on that court, showing off his incredible reflexes and sports ability, and you would be up here. Blending in with the crowd. You were a filler character - something to fill the stands with and not be noticed. Unoriginal. Boring.

“Y/N!” Bokuto ran to you, grinning as wide as ever. “Look what I brought you!” He held up Akaashi’s jacket happily, waving it over his head as he jumped up and down in front of you.

You tried to put on a smile, as if you hadn’t just been spinning in your insecurities a few seconds ago. Your eyes focused on the jacket that Bokuto was trying to put on you, blinking as you came to the realization that he had 100% stolen this from your boyfriend without his knowledge, “Bokuto, won’t he need this?” You offered with a small laugh.

He shook his head with a grin, “He practically discarded it somewhere. I thought I’d come bring it to you! It would probably make him super happy to see you in his jacket! And you look so cute in our colours!” Bokuto declared, patting your head. You tried to start telling him that he should bring it back and that you weren’t really sure Akaashi would want you wearing it, but suddenly you could hear his coach on the court screaming from him to get his ass back down there. “Whoops! Gotta run! Cheer hard for us!” Bokuto gave you a thumbs up before running down.

You stood there for a moment, face feeling hot as you start to smell Akaashi’s scent on the jacket. How did he manage to smell this good all the time?

You could hear whispers from people in the stands, some people wondering who you were or if you were Bokuto or Akaashi’s girlfriend, since it was Bokuto who gave you the jacket.

All the ruckus from his coach made Akaashi actually look over, smirking a bit while Bokuto was getting scolded. He sheepishly made his way over, trying to seem all innocent to his best friend.

“Where the hell even were you?” Akaashi asked, throwing him a toss as the boys warmed up.

“Oh! Just dropping something off to Y/N for you!” Bokuto grinned, nodding in your direction as he received the ball nice and high.

Akaashi shouldn’t have looked over. But he did. His eyes locked onto you and saw you in his jacket and for a moment, he definitely spaced out. His whole brain was just thinking about you and nothing else and he didn’t knock himself out of it until Bokuto’s pass knocked him right in the head.

“Akaashi! Are you okay?” Bokuto laughed, knowing the pass had been pretty soft. Akaashi’s cheeks turn a bit pink as he shook it off, running after the ball.

You were wearing his jacket. And you looked so good in it.

After a complete win for the game, Akaashi was so hyped up to see you. You had worn his jacket the whole game and he had to avoid looking at you because you were just so distracting.

But now that it was over, he wanted nothing more than to swoop you into a hug and admire you. You gave him a huge grin when you caught up with the team, excitedly cheering them for their win and giving Bokuto high fives.

Akaashi watched you with a small smile on his face. You glanced over at him and gave a nervous sort of smile, noting there was a difference in how he was looking at you. “Oh! Here, you’ll get cold soon when your adrenaline stops pumping,” you said, pulling the jacket off.

“It’s alright,” he insisted, smirking a bit down at you. “You look gorgeous, I don’t want you to take it off,” he admitted with a smile, patting your head adoringly.

Your face gets all hot again, avoiding his eyes quickly, “Alright alright, Mr. High Off Of A Win,” you laughed nervously, poking at his chest gently. He raised an eyebrow at your dismissive behaviour.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t go spreading stuff that isn’t true,” you shrugged, shoving your hands in the jacket pocket. Sure, you liked the jacket but there was no way you were as pretty as he was making you out to be. Gorgeous? No way.

Akaashi’s eyes darkened slightly hearing this, taking your chin into his fingers and tilting your chin up so you were forced to look at him, “You think I’d lie to you?”

The question made you shrink inside, noting his hardened expression. He didn’t like it when you were hard on yourself, always made you notice all the little great things about you. But this wasn’t a private conversation, and people were starting to stare, which just made your face go even warmer. “N-No,” you mumble out shyly, trying to look away but he kept your gaze.

“Good girl,” he smirked at you, tapping your nose gently, “Now take the compliment. And wear my jacket more often, alright?”

You couldn’t help but nod at that point, Akashi smiling in his satisfaction before dragging you off for the team’s celebratory meal. The pit in your stomach that liked to tell you you were a filler character was slightly less intense now, after talking to your boyfriend. Akaashi had such an effect on you and there was no denying it. How could a guy like that be with a girl like you, you would never understand. But there was such an honesty in his eyes, and he was right after all, he wasn’t the type to lie about these things… so maybe. Just maybe. There was some truth to it.

Kageyama Tobio

Kageyama wasn’t the best at noticing hints and subtle things, and honestly, he’d rather if people were just blunt and to the point with him. But with you, he knew that he would have to learn between the lines. It wasn’t because you weren’t great at communication (and let’s be honest, even if you were bad at it, Kageyama was in NO place to call you out on that), but rather, Kageyama understood that at some point in relationships, it was important to see what the other person wanted.

So when he started really trying to read you, he found himself almost discouraged by a reoccurring instance.

It was real subtle at first, and in that moment, Kageyama probably wouldn’t have noticed. But he probably just smile at you and press a kiss to your forehead, thanking you for always thinking of him.

“You’re always so thoughtful, Y/N. I appreciate what you do for me,” he told you, almost like he was thanking a teacher for their help on homework which just made you laugh.

“Don’t be silly, Kageyama, it’s just a milk box,” you insisted, giving a little wave to his teammates before he left.

But it wasn’t just a milk box and even Kageyama could see that. He had forgotten his lunch today and you had shared yours with him. But he always had a milk with his lunch and you didn’t have one, but he didn’t have the chance to actually buy one before he had to head back to classes. He didn’t think he had mentioned anything about the milk, or even hesitated to eat without it. But you had still gone out of your way to buy one for him and bring it to him after classes.

You had even apologized that it was later than he usually had his milk, as if you should’ve known to get it earlier. Kageyama was amazed that you even went and bought him one. He held the box in his hands for a moment before getting called over to start practice, promising himself to have the drink right after practice.

It wasn’t just that you brushed off his appreciation for what you did for him. Kageyama always felt something was wrong when he complimented you. So much so, he had to awkwardly ask his upperclassmen for help.

“Oh our little Kageyama needs help with his girlfriend hmmm?” Tanaka laughed, hands on his hips like he was some sort of relationship expert.

“I dunno why you’d come to us,” Daichi admitted with a smirk, leaning against a nearby wall as he considered the question. “It’s not like any of us are really all that experienced with girls.”

“But you know how to… communicate,” Kageyama explained, playing with his fingers as he shyly stared at the floor. “I’m just worried I’m… doing that thing that Hinata says I do. Where I think I’m complimenting her but I’m actually hurting her.”

Sugawara chuckled and threw his arm around his first year’s neck, fluffing up his hair playfully, “Aw! Little Tobio is growing up!”

“What kinds of things are you saying to her?” Asahi asked, offering Kageyama a smile as the blueberry boy tried to fix his now messed up hair.

Kageyama thought about it for a moment, not having to think that far back to remember an example. “This morning, she was wearing her hair differently,” Kageyama told them, gesturing towards his hair as if to act out how her hair was. “And I told her she looked very pretty.”

The boys just looked at him, as if expecting for there to be more. “Okay and?” Noya piped up, shrugging.

“That’s it,” Kageyama blinked. “Should I have said something else?”

“Why would you say something else, Kageyama?” Daichi raised an eyebrow, noting the distress in the setter’s eyes.

Kageyama huffed, remembering how you awkwardly turned away, as if he had said something brash, “She just said ‘you don’t have to do that, Kageyama’ and changed the subject. But I don’t know what she meant. Was… Was I not supposed to tell her? She did look very pretty but should I have kept that to myself?”

Sugawara gave him a sympathetic smile, “I think you did fine, Kageyama, don’t worry! Maybe she was just embarrassed.”

The others agreed, Tanaka explaining to him that some people were bashful when it came to their appearances.

“But she’s the most perfect being in the whole country!” Kageyama burst out, his forehead creased with concern. “Why shouldn’t I tell her?”

“Just in the country?” Asahi chuckled and Sugawara smacked his arm.

“Don’t tease him, I don’t think Kageyama has ever left the country!”

“Maybe she’s just not used to you complimenting her. Like how you weren’t too used to holding hands with her at the beginning of your relationship,” Daichi offered, remembering how red the boy’s face was you first took his hand at a tournament. He didn’t even know he had to hold your hand back and just had his hand staying there stiff.

Kageyama nodded slowly - he could understand that. It just took some time and then he was okay with it eventually. Now he would grab your hand out of instinct and it wasn’t something foreign to him.

After talking to his upperclassmen, Kageyama felt a little better. Perhaps it wasn’t his words then, maybe he just had to do it more.

But after a week of trial and error, Kageyama still couldn’t understand why you still seemed so uncomfortable. The day after consulting the second and third years, Kageyama had told you he really liked the way you hummed and that you had a really nice voice (he really did like it, it was his favourite thing to listen to).

But you just flickered your eyes away from him, offering a nervous laugh, “It’s nothing,” you mumbled before quickly asking him about his practice schedule.

So Kageyama thought maybe you just didn’t like talking about your singing. So when the two of you were studying, you noticed his laser focus wasn’t on his work but instead on you. His eyes were so trained on you, it was like how he was on the volleyball court.

“Kageyama?” You blinked in surprise, catching him staring at you. “Are you alright?”

“You’re really smart, Y/N!” He blurted out, a firm nod afterwards like confirming what he was saying. “I appreciate you always coming to help me work!”

But you just squirmed in your seat, turning your eyes back to your work, “I really don’t know all that much.”

It had been a week of this back and forth, Kageyama desperately trying to find what was going on. Was it him? Was he just not using the right words? Could he actually be being really rude and didn’t realize it? Was it his face? Was he supposed to smile more?

Finally, Kageyama felt like he was at the end of his rope. He didn’t know what to do now.

“The sunset is really pretty today!” You beamed as the two of you walked home from his practice. He glanced over and noticed the brilliant colours in the sky. It looked nice sure, but how could you understand that that looked pretty and you didn’t?

“I think you’re prettier.” He stated simply. Kageyama didn’t really know what lines were cheesy and what weren’t. But you did and your face just overheated immediately in response.

“K-Kageyama, don’t say things like that!” You insisted, staring to walk ahead.

“Wait!” Kageyama yelped, grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you back to him. “What am I doing wrong?” he asked you desperately, his eyes wide and searching yours for some sort of answers.

You stared at him for a moment, confused by his words, “Wrong?” You repeated softly, noticing how upset he looked.

“I…” Kageyama’s voice faltered as he watched your eyes. “I keep trying to tell you how amazing you are. You do all these things for me, you help me when I’m upset and you always help me train. You throw balls for me and Hinata, even when you’d rather be at home. You call me during my jogs just to keep me company. You bring me milk when I forget mine. And you always compliment me when I’m feeling like I’m not 100%… so what am I doing wrong? Because everything I say to you… it doesn’t seem to work.”

Something in you clicked. Is this why Kageyama had been acting so weird this week?

“Kageyama… I do all that because I like you and I want you to be your best,” you explained softly. “And I compliment you because I mean it! Not because I’m trying to make you feel better. Or try to boost your self-esteem.”

There was something in your tone that Kageyama couldn’t place. What was that in your voice?

“Why are you sad when I try to tell you things?” Kageyama was practically begging you for an answer. He didn’t understand how to read things from your tone, he wanted to desperately to understand but he just couldn’t grasp it. “Sugawara told me that complimenting people on things makes them feel good… am I doing it wrong? Please just tell me, I’ll be better! I’ll be the best boyfriend!”

Your smile was almost sad and Kageyama’s heart tugged a little in his chest, “I don’t want you to say things because you feel like you have to say them,” you sighed softly, now avoiding his eyes. “I know my hair is a mess most of the time, I know that my singing isn’t some professional level shit, and I know I’m not the model kind of girl or those gorgeous girls who come to your games. I don’t need you to try and convince me otherwise…”

Kageyama’s mind felt like it was blowing up. What were you talking about?

“Don’t be so stupid,” Kageyama whined, huffing at you and poking your forehead, “You think I’m lying about these things? You think I say them because I feel like I have to?” Kageyama shook his head, taking your face into his hands. “I’m not the best with words, I know this. But you are…” Kageyama’s face twisted into a funny expression as he tried to find the words he wanted, “the most perfect thing. You’re like when I make a perfect set and the spike goes right past the blockers!”

You couldn’t help but smile as he went on talking about volleyball. You weren’t surprised - he often related things to volleyball to understand better.

“You… are the perfect jump serve. Seeing you is like I’m winning full sets at Nationals!” He expressed, looking at you with wide eyes in hopes you were understanding. “I’m not trying to make you feel better about yourself, Y/N. You are everything I could possibly want. You make me feel like volleyball isn’t the only thing that matters anymore. I want to hear you sing all the time and I love your hair no matter how you think it looks.”

Your eyes were welling up with tears as he spoke dramatically, looking up at the sky as if that would help him figure out his sentences better. When he finally looked back at you, he jumped back almost immediately in fear.

“N-No! Don’t cry! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have brought up volleyball again! I-”

You laughed and quickly shook your head, grasping his hands in yours, “Happy tears, Kageyama,” you explained softly, almost immediately burying your face in his chest as you drew him closer for a hug. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Kageyama wasn’t really sure what you were thanking him for but he hugged you tightly anyways. He hated seeing you cry and he would squeeze them all out of you until there was none left if he had to. “You are very pretty.” He stated, pressing a kiss to your head.

And this time, you didn’t argue. You just stayed there in his arms, and listened to the genuineness in his voice.

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[mimzy-writing-online]

Hello. I had a question regarding your post about blind characters. I have a character in my WIP that must cover their eyes.. but it’s blind. He may need to tell people he is blind to explain why he covers his eyes though. I was wondering how I might write this character without offending. Thank you :)

I think I want to start by explaining the “covering blind eyes” trope and why it has become a harmful trope. I think understanding why it’s hurtful helps everyone learn how to handle it better.

I would guess that the “blind people wear sunglasses” trope comes from Hollywood for the specific reason of 1. wanting to signal to the audience that the character is obviously blind and 2. avoid breaking the suspension of disbelief by preventing the audience from catching the sighted actor look at visual stimuli (because disabled characters are almost always played by able actors).

But this changed the way the public expects to experience blindness. If watching a sighted actor wear sunglasses and say he’s blind is all the exposure to the blind community a person has had, that’s the only model of blindness they’ll recognize. If they meet a blind person in real life who doesn’t wear sunglasses, it’s going to break this built perception and cause an uncomfortable cognitive dissonance. 

And then there is the common “cloudy-white blank gaze” that pops up in media. It stems from the fact that cataracts is the most common cause of blindness and the appearance of severe cataracts is a cloudy film in the eyes obscuring the iris and pupil. It can also alter what color a person’s eyes appears to be, making them appear paler and grey in the beginning and then as the cataract advances it becomes more yellow/brown and alters a person’s vision to appear more yellow tinted.

There are lots of other eye conditions that makes the eyes look visibly different. Albinism for instance affects the color and structure of the iris. Eyes might be congenitally misshapen. The muscles might be weak or not work and one or both eyes point significantly outward. Someone who was born blind and experienced no visual stimuli might also have weak muscles around their eyes because they never had a reason to focus their eyes on anything.

And unfortunately humans have the habit of feeling uncomfortable when they meet someone who looks very obviously different from the norm, whether that’s a personal style choice (hair color and style, tattoos, clothing choices) or something they can’t help (a visible disability, skin color, scars). 

To the paragraph above, @gothhabiba replied with:  “it's very weird & ahistorical to claim that racism or ableism are some kind of natural "human" trait.. like frankly it's apologia”

You’re right, I wasn’t thinking beyond that generalization or assumption.

Perhaps a better way to put it is: I was raised in a society where I was taught from childhood to think that there was only one kind of human being to be. White, cis, straight, abled, conservative. That’s a very western thing and that’s a thing I’m going to constantly be unlearning.

Racism and ableism and homophobia aren’t innate, that’s a western thing that was forced onto the rest of the world by colonialism. And because western media created this idea that the world is white, abled, cis, straight, and Christian-value leaning, it taught people to think that was the norm so that seeing someone different from that archetype would cause a cognitive dissonance, which causes discomfort.

And instead of working past that cognitive dissonance to learn more and realize there’s so much more to life than media taught you, society encourages you to ignore that cognitive dissonance by sticking your head in the sand-- or TV screen.

So combine these two tropes or common beliefs together and you get something a little dangerous: the idea that blind people cover their eyes because they look obviously different and they’re ashamed (or should be ashamed) of that.

And if you’re someone who’s just gone blind or who was born blind and you have little to no contact with the blind community, then this societal belief that you should be ashamed of how your eyes look becomes detrimental to your self-esteem and further builds internalized ableism.

I’ve lost count of the times I’ve read or watched a blind character cover their eyes with sunglasses because they were ashamed of how their eyes looked. And I distinctly remember a few times where a sighted friend of the character was trying to convince them to stop wearing sunglasses because there’s nothing wrong with looking different--which is true, but it plays into this fantasy of being the perfect abled ally who saves the blind character from being miserable. 

In an ideal world, the character has no reason to believe looking different is a bad thing or diminishes their worth or makes people dislike them. And if they develop this belief, it’s more likely that someone more involved in the disabled community, most likely someone disabled themselves, will set them straight. Or that the character will learn to accept themselves on their own, looks included.

But there are some perfectly valid reasons for any blind person to wear sunglasses. They might have an interest in fashion and sunglasses complete the look they’re going for. They could want to protect their eyes from UV rays while they’re outside. They may experience light sensitivity and sunglasses reduces any discomfort or pain. Those are incredibly common reasons to wear sunglasses whether you’re sighted or blind.

But there are some more complicated situations.

In your words, your character must cover his eyes. You never specified why, so my primary guess is that he has some kind of power that is unpleasant or has devastating affects and the only way to prevent it is to keep his eyes covered. My primary guess stems from this post where an anon and I discussed a retelling of Medusa, a hypothetical blinding of oneself to avoid ever killing anyone ever again, and what I think I would do if I was in that scenario.

So how do you write a blind character who must cover their eyes and avoid some of the complications?

1. Your character must always have the ability to say “fuck off, it’s my business, I don’t have to tell you why I’m blind or why I cover my eyes.”

Most blind people really, really don’t want to get into the nitty-gritty of why they’re blind and how they feel about it and what it’s like being blind with a stranger they’ll never see again or a new acquaintance they don’t know well yet. You have exceptions to that rule where sure, educating the public about blindness is a thing you want to do and you’re committed to helping your community, but I still have days where I don’t want to talk about being blind or disclose my medical crap.

And if someone doesn’t respect their right to their privacy or pushes too much, the blind character is allowed to be angry, is allowed to tell them off and complain without anyone else in the situation vilifying them or saying they’re “overreacting” and “should have just disclosed private information because big deal or whatever.” If they are angry, that’s their right, and it’s not unreasonable, it doesn’t make them a bad person.

2. Your character should not be ashamed of being blind or of covering their eyes. It is a part of their life, they’re used to it by now, even if they weren’t in the beginning.

The shame and internalized ableism is something that should be written about, but that’s for an own-voices story with a blind author. I don’t think an abled person will ever be able to understand how much society expects you to hate yourself and your disability because “being disabled is a tragic thing that ruins your life” and how that does affect your mental health, self esteem, your relationships with others, your medical care, and what kind of accommodations you can get.

3. It wouldn’t hurt to have a few sarcastic lines in response to uncomfortable conversations.

Stranger: so what’s with the...

Blind Character: what’s with what?

S: the... you know

BC: you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific

S: Your eyes?

BC: They’re... eyes

S: but you’re...

BC: Blind?

S: uh...

BC: yeah, I’m blind. *walks away*

Or this conversation:

S: *to some other character* so why are his eyes covered?

(author’s note: which, honestly, that’s fucking rude. At least have the guts to ask me yourself)

BC: If I look anyone in the eye they instantly perish.

*awkward silence*

BC: instantly.

Friend: It’s truly tragic

BC: *melancholic* that’s how I lost my sister. *chokes up* She was so young

Or this conversation:

S: Why are you wearing that?

BC: It’s called fashion Karen!

Or this conversation:

S: are you like... blind?

BC: yes?? why wouldn’t I be?? Wait, are you sighted? Are you one of those sighted people? You poor thing! What caused you to gain your sight? Do you have a car? A bike? Were you born sighted? What’s it like to see color? Do you miss not having to see 

God, I want a chance to try that last one. I haven’t interacted with a stranger in almost a year. One day...

4. Honestly, it’d also be cool if someone’s reaction to your character covering their eyes was like, “cool sunglasses,” or “cool *insert random character, even one you made up* cosplay,” (which is ten times funnier if this character is a notable figure in modern society like an actor who people might cosplay). 

5. You know, if he’s covering his eyes with some kind of blindfold, he should totally have custom blindfolds for his moods. Like, I have a mask that says “suck it up buttercup” and another that says “not today” because sometimes that’s the mood. And sometimes the mood is one of my floral masks, and sometimes the mood is my cat mask.

So, just some thoughts. I hope that helps.

Edit: a commenter said: “op, unless i'm mistaken this kind of reads like anon meant the character ISN'T blind but lies about being blind to explain covering their eyes? it seems like they made a typo on the word "isn't"”

So my original response to the question was based on the assumption that the character is blind. However,

If the character is not blind, then do not under any circumstances have them lie and say they’re blind to escape a mild inconvenience. 

It’s better to have the character actually explain the situation or straight up leave the conversation or invent a more ridiculous lie than to perpetuate the very real stereotype and misconception that there are people who fake being blind and therefore it’s okay to discriminate or harass them if you even suspect they’re faking.

Do not under any circumstances perpetuate that stereotype. Do not harass someone because you don’t think they’re blind enough.

[minahoeshi]

you were loved the most of all.

Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader | break-up angst

summary: You should've known that when Ushijima Wakatoshi found it easy to fall in love with you, it might be even easier for him to fall out of it. But who expects the worst when it comes to loving someone as seemingly perfect as him, anyway?

Chapter 1 of 2

Chapter 2 of 2

He said it was easy to fall in love with you. He said he didn’t know when exactly, at which place, nor for what reason. Simply one day, Ushijima Wakatoshi found himself looking at you with the epiphany that maybe there’s something more meant to happen between you and him. There you stood before him that day, the person he could promise love to. (And there he stood before you that moment, the boy whose promises you found yourself believing in no matter what.)

So maybe that’s why it was even easier for him to fall out of love. When he told you he was no longer in love with you, it didn’t matter to you to ask when exactly, at which place, or for what reason. Even the universe itself is meant to fizzle out one day along with the death of the stars. Just one more person drifting away from you like a lone planet with no real orbit shouldn’t leave you broken. You are used to this. You won’t fall apart.

But you break anyway.

It was snowing outside when he decided to tell you to end things now before it hurts both of you even further. Not that the snow has anything to do with the coldness creeping up your chest threatening to spill out of you in endless sobs. You were glad, though. That at the very least, he remained honest with his feelings. He never left you guessing. Every time, he never forgets to tell you what’s on his mind. His honesty is something he thought was necessary.

“I understand, don’t worry. Thank you for telling me right away. I know you’re also considering me–” you tell him and choke up. There are tears running down your face but you’re not worried about that. Wakatoshi never let you mask your emotions around him. For the longest time, he reminded you to feel free to be completely bare with him. All the good and the bad, he said. Don’t be afraid to show them to me. I will always understand.

He steps closer and puts you between his arms. You feel his chin on top of your head as you lean your face into his chest. You’re sobbing now. “I’ll be fine, Toshi. We’ll be fine.”

He kisses the top of your head and lets you stay in his arms for minutes. “I loved you then, and I love you still. It’s just that they’re no longer the same kind. I will stay if you ask me to, okay? Anything you want.”

This only makes you cry harder. He’s always been too good. And even in breaking your heart, he’s too good. You want him to hold on. You want to ask him to stay with you for years and years. Even with a different kind of love, you’ll let him be as long he’s close by. But someone like him who has dreams beyond yourself shouldn’t ever be with someone like you who still lacks certainty toward anything.

“Just for tonight,” you ask, still crying. “Can I stay?”

“of course,” he replies. Anytime you want. Anything you want. It has always been this way.

Because humans are creatures of routines and familiarity, you spend that night the way you usually do when you’re at his place. You cook dinner with him and eat on the dining table, sharing stories and laughter. You keep adding food to his plate and he smiles as you giggle at everything you find funny.

It’s okay, it’s okay. You’ll be okay. You’ll be fine.

You clean the kitchen and stay in the living room. He leans on the couch as you lay down with your head on his lap. You keep talking and laughing. He goes along, sometimes adding things to make you laugh even more, sometimes simply agreeing, sometimes asking questions. You keep it loud and light, afraid of the silence. Inside you, it’s so heavy, your heart might just fall off. This will be the last, you tell yourself. You want to be happy for now. While he’s still here.

"Do me a favor, okay?" You tell him as you're nearing slumber. "Let me leave first tomorrow. Maybe stay in bed, maybe pretend you're asleep. But tomorrow, don't get out of the room until I've left the house." Your voice shakes, feeling yourself wanting to sob.

"I don't want to wake up to another empty bed but I don't want to see your face when I wake up too," you curl into him even further. "I'm sorry for being selfish. I'm sorry I still don't really know what to do. And I know you wake up pretty early and you know, do stuff, but just for tomorrow, please?"

Wakatoshi didn't really understand why. He originally planned on cooking breakfast for you and taking you to the train station. He would watch you board the train and he'd make sure to smile at you as he waves. You always waved back. That's how it works. Even after fights, and even after especially bad nights, you'd still do the same. Watching you leave with a smile was how you both knew you'd still be fine the days after. That nothing much can affect your relationship. For years, this has been the routine.

But tomorrow, he knows he has to give way. He knows what he said hurt you. It would be wrong of him to do what he wants simply because he's used to.

Tomorrow's the last, he realises. And then if you want, he'd never see you again.

--

You wake up pretty early. The sky is a calm shade of blue, the world outside still waking up. You check the time on your phone and find it's 6 AM. Last night, you slept with your back on him. The sight before you is the other end of his bedroom and you notice just how much of yourself you've managed to leave around his place. Pieces of just one other person in his life, scattered in places around his world pretending that’s just where they belong. You didn't mind leaving things behind back then. You never really thought of the day that you might’ve to take back all of them. Just how does one pick up parts of themselves when they thought they’ve finally found a place for them to stay?

But as you stand up, you conclude that when things end, traces shouldn’t be left behind. He didn’t decide to break up only to be reminded of you even after you’re no longer close to him. So you go and pick every little thing that's yours. Even your jacket and sweaters and a few pairs pyjamas in his closet. You'll just take his things from your place too and hand it to Tendou's shop. Coming back here won’t do you any good. Him coming to your place instead wouldn’t either.

Collecting all your things, even the ones you can't use anymore, you leave the bedroom and enter the living room. You don't have many belongings here aside from some DVDs and books. You only take the books and leave the rest for him. You've always preferred reading anyway.

Setting your bag and things aside on the sofa, you go ahead and wash yourself in the bathroom and bring your toothbrush and some other products with you when you're done. You then head to the kitchen to cook him something light to eat for breakfast . You knew you didn't have to. He knows how to cook. It has always been him cooking breakfast for you. When you could, you’d rather stay in bed until the very moment you must start preparing to go to uni or work. But you did anyway. He's probably in his bed, awake. He has never been a heavy sleeper. With all the moving you did around his room, he was bound to wake up if he wasn't already.

You make him a simple omelette and write a small message on top of it with ketchup. "Good luck with practice today!"

You've already cleaned everything you used, preferring to wash and set utensils as soon as you're done with them. That way, when you're sitting down to eat, there won't be any cluster around to distract you.

You put the ketchup down and decide that should be enough. You'll stop here. You should go now.

Ushijima is sitting on his bed. He's been awake since 5 AM when he usually goes on his run. It isn't the first time he chose to stay with you instead of going out, but he can't help but feel heavy this time. He stayed in for you. But as the minutes pass by, it seems that he simply cannot find the courage to sit up and face you.

He wants to sink into his bed.

There's knock on the door followed by sentences uttered softly. "Toshi, I'm going now. There's breakfast on the table. Make sure to eat before you go."

There goes the heavy feeling again. Maybe if this keeps up, he might just actually sink and never get back up.

You've done that a few times. Leaving while he's still in the room. You don't even open the door. You simply knock and tell him you're about to go, always reminding him to eat before he goes too.

But this will be the last, he thinks. If you leave now, will he never see you again?

a/n

chapter 2 will be up soon not rly sure when tho. (it's up now the link is at the top)

also, im not entirely sure but i think i didnt use any pronouns or gendered nouns for this except "girl" in the 1st paragraph which i erased just now? if i'm right, then i hope everyone reading this get to feel as though theyre rly the person in the story. unless ofc u dont want that bc this isnt the happiest ushitoshi x reader fic u can find🥲. but thanks for reading!!!! m so sorry for typos nd other errors as well. i kinda cant read my own writings bc sometimes doing so makes me wanna smack myself in the head and never write again nd i hate that so now im leaving my mistakes to the gods nd hope they love me enough or smth. but yes thank u sm again for reading!!!!

[clown-cult]

Your last ask kind of bothers me, because the whole premise of the Shiina manga is that two of the protags were created through child grooming. It doesn't matter if you pirate it or not, you're just prioritizing the "official" content even though it's presented right alongside the OOC gross SR stuff. I get loving InuKag, but what's the difference between something official and a doujinshi anyway? Just the creators getting to make money off the brand. If Shiina wasn't doing the manga in partnership with the owners of the Inuyasha brand, you wouldn't take a second look at it because it's no better than the middling fanfiction written on AO3. But because it's "official" you're drooling all over it and willing to ignore all the context surrounding it?

Why don't you just go and find a good InuKag fan artist that doesn't support SR and support them instead?

This is going to be a very long and rambling post as I try to make my thoughts clear. on both this ask and the ask I got previously.

First of all, I myself don’t ship InuKag. I know, that’s basically blasphemy in this fandom, but I don’t. So if you’re trying to come for me personally anon, don’t bother.

With that out of the way, I was trying to offer an alternative to that particular anon. Some people can enjoy fan content but still prioritise canon content of their ships (even when it comes to something non-canon like Yashahime and even less canon still when it comes to the manga) just out of a desire to want to know what happens next. I don’t see quite as much with western media but there’s something about the culture of the anime and manga industry and how there’s almost always new merch being released of some sort that basically primes the consumer to want more, even when a series is long finished.

Then again, some people are just fandom purists and feel safer with content that has some semblance of official status. Remember that the iceberg that is Yashahime only hit the Inuyasha fandom relatively recently and a lot of people are still hurt, confused and trying to seperate being able to enjoy the original work without having to also support the sequel and, more importantly, creators who allowed this to happen even if it isn’t canon. The Harry Potter fandom is proof that you can completely separate the work from the author and their problematic decisions and still enjoy the work itself, but as I said, the Inuyasha fandom is still collecting itself from the fallout.

As for me, I like InuKik and SessKik and I will always heavily support queer ships over straight ones. I’m in no way dismissing your point of supporting fan content and fan creators bc there’s literally no chance I’m going to get any content at all if it’s not fanmade, and I create fan content myself to continue that goal onwards. Many of us are already going the route that Harry Potter took and are contributing more of our own content that completely separates off the distressing elements introduced to the fandom. I’m pretty sure people will come around as it’s already happening, but in the meantime I’m trying to be understanding of how upset communities like InuKag and MirSan will still be.

In the meantime, in regards to said spinoff that’s being made about the newlywed couples, while I’ve recommended pirating as the best way to enjoy it without financially supporting it, I do want to warn people at the same time. Remember this is still a Yashahime-centric project. I understand that previous anon loves InuKag and wants more of them, but look at his InuKag has been treated by Yashahime so far. Not only are they no longer the heart of the narrative, they’re reduced to a bastardised version of the original that allows and fawns over Sesshomaru’s violation of Rin, and then said bastardised version we’re left with is all but absent from the story.

To previous anon, I understand being comfortable with more ‘official’-ish content and as I said, if you must look at it then don’t financially contribute to it, but remember that this is not a series that has been kind to, understood or valued InuKag. The only reason this series is being made, I said some time ago, is because it’s attempting to use InuKag as a cover to try and push the SessRin narrative more. As current anon is pointing out, any new content with InuKag is going to be stained by SR and the context around the sequel.

There’s no shortage of InuKag events that have happened this year and plenty of master posts of good content. I think I saw somewhere that’s there’s a zine in the works. I can’t tell you how to spend your time or money on the internet, but if it was me, I’d be supporting fan comics and doujinshis, instead of official-but-not content that doesn’t treat my OTP fairly. Just something to think about.

[littlemisslipbalm]

“sorry to bother you”

Summary: Y/N meets Harry in a little shop in France. It was a lovely meeting between the fan and the rockstar, but when Y/N realizes she’s lost her phone, will she see Harry sooner than she had ever thought possible?

AKA Harry meets a fan and accidentally steals her phone

vibes bc they snack and she walks up to him while he’s looking at the sky lol ^

Ok so I just wanted to preface this: this was initially just going to be a short blurb about a respectful meeting between Harry and a fan because of the terrible stories I’ve been hearing lately about rude people being inconsiderate of Harry and his privacy and I wanted to showcase that you can treat Harry as a human being rather than an object when you see him irl. But then my writer brain wanted more and so it turned into more. All I have to say is if you ever meet Harry in real life, please be respectful and kind. Also there is a 0.00001 chance that this would ever actually happen as most fiction goes so please don’t expect more than a short convo and maybe a photo from him. For him to even speak with you is more than enough, he really isn’t a disneyland attraction. 

Also not proofread bc apparently its long lol, I’m not super in love with this but I think it’s good-ish the end is meh - pls lemme know what yall think :)

Word Count: 10.2k (wait im actually so confused how this got so long omfg) | Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, idrk its long but it’s sweet?

-

She saw him long before she approached him. She was truly unsure of herself, not wanting to bother him or upset him. She had been a fan for so long and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet someone who meant so much to her.

In the small Bayeux shop, she hesitates as she risks another glance at the tall man. She whispered to her mom minutes ago about how Harry Styles was in the same shop as them. Her mom was texting her non stop telling her to go up to him or she would do it herself. Y/N shook her head, distrusting her mom and feeling self conscious. No one else was in the store and her interaction with him wouldn’t disrupt the rest of the store, but for some reason she felt a tinge of discomfort about going up to him.

Harry leafs over a tablecloth, not paying attention to the other patrons in the store or anything else for that matter. He was staying on the coast of France for the week and he hadn’t run into many fans, so he was feeling at ease. Mitch was somewhere else in the store, but Harry felt comfortable on his own. He feels a soft, small tap on his broad shoulder. He turns expecting the quiet Mitch, but is presented with a short, sweet looking woman.

“Excuse me. Um, hi...Sorry to bother you,” she starts, eyes wide as she works to maintain eye contact with Harry as she looks up at him.

His green eyes are widened, realizing this isn’t someone he knows.

“Hello,” he says simply.

“I-” she pauses, her hands fiddling, “I’m sorry to bother you, honestly. But, your music means so much to me and I’d kick myself for the rest of my life if I didn’t say something before you left.”

He smiles, his expression softening at how genuine she sounds. “It’s quite alright.”

“It’s not though. I’m sure you’d appreciate not being bothered for once.”

“No,” he cuts her off, “I love talking with fans.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure there’s days where you wish you could just go to a random store on the coast of France - so out of the way - and not be walked up to by a random person.”

“I mean, I guess, but you seem rather nice.”

“Thanks...I’ve been a fan long enough to know that there’s people who don’t always treat you with that kind of respect. I really wouldn’t have bothered you if it wouldn’t have changed my life.”

“Don’t feel like you’re a bother, please,” he pleads lightly as he grasps her hand out of instinct, dropping it immediately when he realizes what he’s done. “It’s the people who don’t actually come up to me and treat me like an animal that are upsetting. Or the people who are only after a photo and aren’t very nice to me. You… you’re treating me like a human being. Being overly courteous -- if I’m being honest.” He chuckles lightly at the end.

She blushes at his words and smiles up at him, mirroring the soft smile on his lips. “I’m only treating you how I would want to be treated if I were in your shoes.” She glances down at his feet and notices the Gucci boots and smiles to herself, laughing lightly.

“What?”

“We’ve got the same shoes on actually.”

“No way!” His voice is playful at first as he glances down at well and realizes she’s right. He laughs at the weird little coincidence.

“I’ve had these for years, my favorite shoes…” She mumbles, seeing the ways his eyes shift  with a flash of concern. It’s what she fears he would think of her, why she was so hesitant to approach him in the first place. It’s why she had tried to hide her laugh from him when she noticed the similarity. She just wants to interact with him in a normal way. He again softens at her words, her sincerity, realizing it really just is one of those random things.

“They’re good shoes,” he laughs again, kicking his left heel with his right foot. The way she barely touched him to get his attention and the way she stays a safe distance from him is reassuring. She’s aware of his situation, yet she’s treating him with the utmost care and respect.

“So what brings you to Bayeux?” He asks, deciding he wants to continue the conversation with her. Y/N flits her eyes behind her shoulder and sees her mother watching their interaction out of the corner of her eye. She sighs and runs a hand through her hair, leaning against the counter her and Harry are at.

“Vacation, I guess. My family and I love to travel and ever since the pandemic settled down - finally, we’ve been jetting everywhere we’ve ever been or wanted to go. Seize the day vibes.” Her voice is serious, but she falters and laughs at the end. Her words are honest and she’s happy to actually get to talk to Harry more than just hello and a picture.

“I get that. You’re from America, yeah? It was really rough there for a long time.” He says solemnly, mirroring her figure, leaning against the counter, getting comfortable with her.  

She laughs again, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling, completely in love with her idol, but desperately trying to play it cool. “The accent gives it away, huh? I’m trying to fix that, get a job out of the states and never go back.”

“Hey!” Harry interjects, throwing his hand out from his stance in her direction, like he might touch her, but this time being careful to not actually. “It’s not that bad. I like your accent...And I love LA.”

She can’t stop laughing with Harry. It feels so simple and common to just be talking with him. He doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush anywhere, but she also fears to take up too much of his time. “I’m originally from up north in California actually. Living in LA right now, though. But I don’t know, I’ve just always felt like I was meant to live somewhere else. Do you know how that is? Just feeling like you’re meant for something different?”

He watches the way she moves her hands and works through her thought process. He feels like in another world they would have been close friends. The way she talks about things is so familiar to him. It’s like she’s read his mind, even though he knows for sure she hasn’t. She’s funny and laid back, yet mature at the same time. He wonders how old she is, out of college it seems if she’s trying to get a job out of the United States. He wonders what she plans to do and who she wants to become. Her aura intrigues him to no end. He thinks he could talk to her for hours.

Realizing he hasn’t made any sort of response to her somewhat philosophical question, he nods quickly, eyes blinking rapidly, his body straightening up back to his full height. “Yeah..I mean that’s how I felt about music. Like, I always felt like I was meant for something more… Turns out I was!”

They smile together again, knowing the conversation is ending. She knows he won’t keep asking questions and she doesn’t want to keep him.

He knows he can’t completely turn himself over to this stranger, she’s obviously younger than him and even though he feels connected to her, she could surprise him still. He knows he can’t talk to her forever, the cashier glancing at the pair of them every so often since they haven’t been looking at any merchandise for a while now. He knows he shouldn’t flirt with her, ask her out for coffee or anything of the sort. He simply knows this must come to an end any moment now.

“You should definitely follow your heart,... I didn’t catch your name?” He realizes when he can’t finish his sentence by calling her name.

“Oh!” She says surprisedly, not realizing she never gave her name, “Y/N. And thank you, means a lot to hear encouragement come from someone who’s been such an inspiration to me. Honestly, thank you.”

He perks at the way she says her name, again feeling like he’s known her for much longer than these five minutes.

“It’s me who should be thanking you, Y/N. Your support is what makes my life the way it is. It means a lot to me - and you truly seem like a lovely person, genuinely.”

She throws her head back in laughter at all of the words he’s saying. The way he’s trying to convey his sincerity is earnest, but his word choice is simply funny to her. Without realizing what she’s doing, she throws out her arm and her hand lands on his bicep to steady herself while laughing - something she would do with anyone normally. He doesn’t shift from her grasp when she opens her eyes and even widens them at the sight in front of her. Her hand on Harry Styles. How is this happening? She thinks as he doesn’t disintegrate underneath her touch. He’s definitely real as she feels the coat fabric and the muscles beneath it. He smiles down at her, so sweetly that his dimples pop out. She’s in awe, but has to contain the slight sense of coolness she’d been maintaining during their conversation.

She removed her hand, gingerly, “I won’t keep you any longer, Harry.” She blushes when she says his name. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to get a picture with you, but I totally understand if you’re not okay with that. I wouldn’t post it anywhere, it’s more just for me to remember this.” She rushes the last bit, feeling nervous and shy yet again. He was so big physically, but his presence was also so strong that she felt even smaller around him.

His smile calms her immediately and this time it's his hand to touch her, his hand landing over hers that’s been resting on the counter during their conversation.

“Of course,” His lips are soft and plush as they maintain his sweet smile. “Hey Mitch!” He looks over his shoulder as he calls to Mitch who has returned from the upstairs part of the shop.

Mitch blinks at the sight of Harry with a stranger before coming over, “Yeah?”

“Do you mind taking a picture of Y/N and me?”

Y/N is still in disbelief of what is going on, completely awestruck that Harry just said her name again to Mitch Rowland. And that Mitch Rowland was even in this shop with her as well. She hadn’t realized that at first. But now she was going to be forever grateful to her father for insisting they come back to Bayeux during this trip.

Mitch nods and takes her phone once she slips it out of her pocket, fingers fidgeting to get it open quickly. Mitch smiles at her reassuringly as she lets go and moves to stand beside Harry against the counter. He pulls her into his side gently and her hand goes around his waist, feeling his warmth and substantiality for the first true time. She tries to ground herself in the moment, memorizing every detail of right now. His cologne that emanates from his neck, the way the material of his jacket feels against her bare arm, the way he puffs out a slight laugh as Mitch shifts around to get most of their bodies in the frame. Oh and the way he looks when he tilts his neck to check on her and he even risks a wink of one of his emerald eyes and she promises herself she’ll never give away any of the clothes she’s wearing right now. Her nonchalant response is to wink right back and then they both smile, turning back their attention to the phone in Mitch’s hands.

Her mom had gone up to the cashier, effectively distracting them from the photoshoot that had begun to take place. Y/N never wants Harry to let go of her, but again she knows this can’t last forever. Mitch takes a couple of photos before handing the phone back. Y/N assumes that’s it and is about to thank Harry, but he speaks over her and her words die in her throat.

“How do they look?”

“Oh?” She flips through them and Harry leans over her shoulder, respectfully. “Pretty good,” she sums up, she loves them and she’d love even more, but she’d obviously never ask Harry for that.

“Pretty good?” He echoes, unsure of her response, looking from her to the photos, “Do you want to take more?”

She thinks on his offer, already knowing the right answer, “No, no. It’s all good. Thanks.”

Then turning to face Mitch, who’s been watching the pair of them converse, “Could I actually get a photo with you, Mitch? Sorry if that’s super weird, I just think you’re really cool. I had no idea you were even here until, uh, Harry called you over.” She laughs nervously, blushing yet again.

Harry laughs under his breath at how both her and Mitch blush at her words. She’s more unsure with Mitch, which he finds interesting. She had carried their conversation easily and maintained eye contact casually, but with Mitch, it was like he was her schoolyard crush, nervous hands and fleeting glances. He wondered if she genuinely only liked Harry for his music and didn’t find him physically attractive. This nagging feeling at the back of his mind perplexed him, he twitched trying to shrug it off. Why did he care if this woman found Mitch attractive and not him?  

“Yeah, of course. It’s not weird, have had plenty of people say much weirder things to me than that…” He smiles at Y/N and she mirrors his expression, but then she bites her lip. Her expression falters slightly as she processes his words. “I’m sorry if you’ve had similar experiences as Harry with so-called fans being disrespectful and inconsiderate.”

“No need to apologize, you’ve been nothing but kind and respectful,” Harry interjects

She only fidgets at his words. She’s growing slightly more nervous, being in the presence of both Mitch and Harry was starting to wear on her calm exterior. Still, Mitch trades places with Harry and Harry plucks her phone from her hands. He takes more photos than Mitch, doing close ups and full shots, causing Mitch and Y/N to laugh as they hold onto each other. He gives them little instructions on what to do in the photos and soon Y/N is rolling her eyes at Harry like she’s been best friends with him for ages. She feels like she’s just out with a couple of her friends and they decided to stop and pose for photos randomly, rather than meeting rock legends that she had only dreamt of ever seeing in real life.

When Harry is finally satisfied and comes up to the pair of them, she moves away from Mitch first, his long hair shifting as she pulls away from his side. She turns to face him immediately and starts to gush, “You’re an amazing guitarist, by the way. I forgot to say that. When I heard ‘She’ for the first time...I was blown away. The guitar on it...Feels like you’re in another universe. And it follows up ‘To Be So Lonely’ which your guitar on it is also like crazy epic. ”

Harry and Mitch laugh, but Mitch’s smile is appreciative, like he’s about to speak, but Harry speaks first, “That’s because he was in another universe. You know the story?”

She smiles and nods. Harry nods in approval. Mitch interjects, “Thank you. Also, Y/N,” he stares intently at her face and she meets his gaze this time, “You’re truly one of the kindest people - maybe the kindest - who have come up to us. And I’m not just saying that because you complimented my guitar playing.”

“He’s right,” Harry nods solemnly. Her face beams up at them both, now she really felt like this was too good to be true. Meeting her idols and having them both say very complimentary things about her, she’d cherish it forever.

“You both are amazing people and deserve to be treated as such.” Her tone is the sincerest she’s ever been, meaning every single thing she says. Then she rushes out her next few sentences, “But thank you again, seriously, you both mean a lot to me - I’ll let you get back to it...Have a nice day!”

After they say their farewells swiftly, she turns to leave and bounces over to her mother who is grinning with pride for her daughter. Before she exits completely she risks a glance over her shoulder and throws a peace sign up, Harry returns it. Then she walks out of the shop, her mother finishing up her shopping minutes ago. Mitch and Harry stay back, talking and continuing to look around the store.

Y/N tries to keep her cool until they’re out of sight of the shop. Once they round the corner and are on the next street over, she’s jumping up and down and squealing to her mom. “Can you actually believe it? What the fuck just happened? That was real right? I wasn’t hallucinating?”

Her mom laughs and reassures her it was real, “You did that, I’m so proud of you. You handled yourself very maturely”

“Well I tried! I can’t believe Mitch was there too!” She interjects, cutting off her mom, completely ecstatic from the previous experience.

“So how did the photos come out?” Her mom asks once Y/N had stopped rambling about Harry’s outfit and their matching shoes and their conversation and basically anything that had happened in the last ten minutes. They were blocks from the shop now.

“Photos?”

“Yeah, the photos you took with them. How do they look? I was ready to come over, but then that other man popped out of nowhere.”

“He’s smooth like that,” she says wistfully, her little crush on Mitch being nowhere near her love for Harry, but still present, and pats for her phone. “Oh.” She says, stopping in her tracks.

Her mother stops with her, “What?”

“I...I left my phone in the store, I guess.”

“Y/N…” Her mom drags out her name in exasperation, in awe of her daughter’s ability to be so smooth with her own idol yet how forgetful she could still be.

“Shit!” She confirms that her phone is nowhere to be found.  

“Really?” Her mother sighs, hands sitting on her hips in the center of the French street.  

“Sorry?” She asks sheepishly. In her starstruck stupor she had been too transfixed on Harry and Mitch and must have placed it down on the counter.

“Well, let’s go back,” her mother states, tired but also not completely mad. She lost her phone plenty of times and it was usually because of less acceptable reasons. Meeting your idols warranted a spacey head.

The door chimes as Y/N reenters the store, she walks quickly to wear she had her conversation with Harry almost twenty minutes ago and her mom goes to ask the clerk if they had grabbed it. It’s not on the counter where they had been leaning. She glances around checking to see if it had fallen on the ground or if by some grand luck Harry and Mitch were still there. Due to her luck, neither of these hopes came true. Her mom joins her in the area and shakes her head, the clerk hadn’t gotten any phones turned in since they had left the first time.

“Give me your phone,” Y/N says suddenly. “Find my iphone,” she explains when her mom looks at her questioningly. Checking the phone, she sighs in exasperation, silently cursing herself for not sharing her location with her mom when her phone icon says ‘location unavailable’. She rubs a hand over her face in disappointment.

“Don’t click the sound button!” Her mom says quickly, “If someone stole it, they’ll turn it off when they hear it.”

“But how am I supposed to find it? It could be here and I just can’t see it.” Her finger hovers over the ‘play sound’ button, hesitant, but desperate. She had met and gotten photos with Harry Styles and they were already gone - oh and she’d have to replace her phone, which would be terrible, as well.  

“Maybe Harry Styles has it?”

“Mom, don’t be dumb.”

“Hey! Watch your tone. I’m serious. Did he ever hand it back to you after he took those second round of pictures?”

Y/N scratches her head nervously and hands back her mom’s phone. She places both over her face and presses her fingers harshly over her eyes trying to think. She hadn’t been paying attention to her phone at the time, too busy trying to commit everything about Harry to memory in her mind so that she’d never forget it. She was sure she’d never forget today, now, even if she ever stopped loving Harry, which she was doubtful of. Hey kids, I met a rockstar and I was so starstruck I lost my phone in France! She groaned. “Oh my fucking god!”

After a few deep breaths with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, she composed herself, “We need to play the sound. Either it’s here and we’ll find it. Or - worst case scenario - it sounds and Harry Styles realizes he has my phone and we go from there… Well, I guess in the worst case scenario some jerk stole it and they turn it off and sell it for parts, but I just don’t think that’s what happened.” She bites her lip and stares at her mom, who hesitantly raises her finger to press the button that sets off the alarm on the lost phone. She clicks it after an overly dramatic pause. Y/N prays to anyone who’s willing to listen, she says in her mind, please sound the phone in here. Life would be so much simpler if it worked out the way we wanted. But, in place of the annoying echoing ring of the Find My iPhone tone there is only silence. At least there’s silence in the little shop in Bayeux.

-

In a tiny taxi cab that was headed to a small chateau outside of the town of Bayeux, the phone sounds and causes Harry to furrow his brows. He was sure he had his phone on ‘do not disturb’, but he pulls it out anyway to see why it’s making this annoying sound. What he pulls out of his coat pocket is not his phone he realizes immediately.

“Shit,” he says under his breath, still loud enough for Mitch to look over from the opposite passenger seat.

“What?”

“This isn’t my phone.”

“What?”

Harry rolls his eyes at Mitch’s repeated question and opens up his purse digging out his actual phone and holds up his and the one he had apparently stolen.

“Oh, yeah, that’s not your phone. That’s not good.”

Harry huffs as he turns the unknown phone over in his hand, the screen was a scene of a city he didn’t actually recognize - San Francisco maybe - the lavender silicone case is smooth in his hand and he notices a little sticker, it’s of Y/N and two other women. His eyes widen at it and it makes a little more sense to him. He hadn’t really stolen a phone, he just forgot to give it back. It wasn’t much better, but it was how he was going to comfort himself. Dropping his own phone in his lap, he runs his hand through his hair, rings slightly tugging at his mused curls. Then he turns the sticker to show Mitch, “It’s that girl we met, it’s her phone.”

“You stole her phone,” Mitch states. Voice deadpan and eyes boring into Harry’s.

“No!” Harry defends, but quickly slumps, “I mean, technically? Yes...But-” Mitch’s laughter cuts him off. “You’re an idiot, Harry, y’know that?”

-

“I feel like I’m on punk’d right now…” Y/N grumbles as it becomes clear that the phone is not in this shop. “If this is punk’d, at least my phone’s not actually gone,” she says to no one really. Her mom is pacing the store and stops to look at her daughter, “This is most definitely not punk’d for so many reasons, dear. Mainly because the show got canceled but also because we are in Bayeux, France not Malibu.”

“Fuck…”

She walks out of the shop, barely paying a glance to the shop keeper this time, her usual kind demeanor nowhere to be found under the piles of distress and anxiety plaguing her body.

Back out on the street she looks around, again hoping that with any luck Harry is still around and will come running up to her to give her back her phone. Again, no such luck.

“What the fuck am I going to do?” She looks to her mom helplessly, her arms flapping by her sides, defeated.

-

“What the fuck am I going to do?” Harry asks as they get out of the taxi, glancing at the purple phone in his hand.

Mitch shrugs, “Hope she has her location on?”

“Then she’s going to come here...But wouldn’t she have tried to track it first instead of playing the sound?”

“Dude, I don’t know.You can try to unlock it and find her mom’s number, get in contact with them.” Mitch sighs as they walk through the front door. “Or we can go back to town, see if they’re still there? Did you get her last name? You could find her on social media maybe?”  

“I feel terrible...She was so nice.” Harry throws his bags down on the entryway couch and begins to pace, Y/N’s phone never leaving his hand. “Could go back into town tomorrow, maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mitch sits and runs a hand through his hair, “Just calm down, right now, Harry. There’s not much else you can do.”

He’s right and Harry tries to not fixate on the phone, but he fiddles with it for the rest of the day. He doesn’t let it leave his sight and sets it beside his bed when he gets ready to go to sleep. As he shifts in the bed, unable to fall asleep he takes the phone and begins trying to unlock it, guessing random numbers and failing miserably. Eventually, he decides he should go to bed and drifts off into an uncomfortable sleep.

-

After being unsuccessful in town, Y/N and her mom went back to the little villa they were staying at on the outskirts of Bayeux. It was located next to some vineyards that the villa co-owned with the private chateau that sat on the other side of the vines. It was beautiful and she had been so excited to be staying there. But after the events of today, she was not in the mood to join the rest of her family for dinner among the grapes. She lays on her bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how she had been so stupid to forget to ask for her phone back.

In the middle of the night, she wakes up in a cold sweat. She’s still in the clothes she had worn out and was laying on top of her covers at the end of her bed. All the windows of the room were closed and her shades weren’t drawn. Groggily, she rose from her uncomfortable position and changed. Moving to the window to let some air in she sees the lights flickering in a room of the private chateau across the way. She wondered why someone would willingly be up at this hour, even though she was unsure exactly what time it was without her phone. Her phone. That’s what had woken her up. She had dreamt that her mom had called her phone and the frog from the Frog and the Toad stories had picked it up. That was ridiculous, of course, but the idea to call her phone instead of just pinging it was solid. If Harry still had it, then he could pick up and they could figure out how to meet up. She decided she’d have to do that at a reasonable hour, however and moved on, opening her windows and closing the sheer shades, before getting under her covers to sleep.

-

Y/N wakes up early the next morning. Her sleep a restless one. Padding down the hall to her parent’s room, she knocks solemnly. She was far from a morning person and it was much to her mother’s surprise to see her standing in the hallway when she opened the door.

“Hey..” her voice catches in her throat, scratchy from lack of use in the night.

“Good morning, sunshine,” her mother laughs slightly, but Y/N only gives her an unamused look and walks into her room immediately searching for her mom’s phone.

“Need to use your phone, gonna call my phone,” she mutters, none of her thoughts being coherent sentences.

“Y/N, it’s 7 am. You’re going to call Harry Styles at 7 am? With your morning voice?”

Her eyes narrow and her lips form a straight line one her face, clearly not amused by her mother’s questions. Even if she knew her mom was right. She clears her throat and rolls her eyes at her mom, who is moving around the room beginning to get ready for the day as her daughter sits on the rumpled bed. Y/N’s father had already gone out to breakfast in the main area of the villa.

“Fine,” she slides off the bed when she realizes her mom isn’t offering her any more words of wisdom. “I’ll get ready for the day and then I will call my phone.”

Pattering back to her room, she slowly begins to dress and liven herself up for the day. Her hands instinctively reach out to her bedside table to pick up her phone to turn some music on, but of course she’s greeted with nothing. She groans loudly, “Of. Fucking. Course.” Shaking her head, she moves to take fresh clothes out of her suitcase.

Exiting her room again, this time far more awake, she walks down the hallway in a babydoll style top that read “Don’t play with my heart” with little girls playing racquetball with a red heart emblazoned over her chest and white jean floods. Her feet were covered in red high top converse today, matching the color of the small heart on her shirt. She liked the contrast of the white pants and the bright red of the shoes and she smiled to herself as she walked confidently into the breakfast area.

Her entire family was sitting around one of the tables, sipping coffee and eating pastries, it was now around 8:45 - a slightly more acceptable part of the day. They were all early risers, especially in comparison to her, and her older sister looks at her curiously. “What are you doing up so early, kid?” Y/N leans down to grab a slice of a peach from her brother’s place, which earns her a slight yelp of protest. She rolls her eyes at her sister and stalks off to the buffet, knowing she’s made her presence known enough.

“Can I borrow your phone now?” Y/N says after finishing a small danish and the lukewarm coffee that was at their table when she arrived. Her mother finally nods and hands it over. As Y/N grabs it, she’s already halfway out the doors that lead into the backyard of the villa. 

She stands on the grass that goes for a few feet before a hedge that separates the villa ground with the vineyard. Flipping through the contacts, she settles on hers and sighs, trying to calm her nerves. Her free hand ghosts over her hair and she uses one foot to step lightly on the heel of the other shoe. Please pick up, she sends out a prayer once again. Her last twenty-four hours seemed to consist of dreams, hopes, and prayers and she was starting to realize that she didn’t particularly like any of them. Biting her lip, she raises her phone up to her ear and gets her automatic voice message. Realizing she has her phone on ‘do not disturb’, she immediately rings herself again, knowing that it will go through this time.

-

Harry strolls out of his bathroom and widens his eyes when he hears a buzzing hear his bed. Seeing it’s Y/N’s phone he grabs it quickly and furrows his brow at the contact. Her mother’s name, but he doesn’t know that. To him it’s just a person’s name, it could be anyone she knew. Still, he thought about the odds of it being just one of her friends or her calling from someone else’s phone and decided to risk it.

“Hello?”

“Thank fucking God!” is all he hears and he’s pretty sure it’s Y/N’s voice.

“Y/N?” He laughs and takes a seat on his bed, staring out his window that opened to the vineyard.

“Yes! Harry? Hi!” She’s ecstatic that anyone picked up at all, bouncing up and down on the other side of the phone. She mutters to herself, once again, “Thank fucking God.”

“Who’s phone are you calling from?”

“Oh, my mom’s,” she says, calming down slightly as she begins to walk around the grass, unable to contain the renewed sense of energy she has.

“You don’t keep her in your contacts as ‘mum’? I almost didn’t pick up.” He tilts his head, trying to think of anyone else he knew who kept their mother’s contact as the actual name rather than ‘mum’ or some other variant of it.

“Well, thanks for picking up,” she laughs at his words, bringing her pacing to a stop to stare at the chateau across the way. “It’s really not that weird,” she insists, her arm going to cradle the elbow of the arm that holds the phone to her ear. “I don’t think any of my siblings have her as ‘mom’ in their contacts.”  

“I think it’s a little weird. I’m going to have to start asking people what they’ve got their mum down as in their phones. You’ve got me intrigued,” he muses, only slightly teasing. A smile curves onto his face as he hears her huff over the phone, obviously not liking his ribbing.

“So...you have my phone,” she changes the subject.

“Yes…” he scratches his head and she swears she could hear him awkwardly rubbing at his hair. “Sorry ‘bout that. Guess I forgot to give it back.”

“Not entirely your fault, I probably should have asked for it back. It was like twenty minutes before I even realized I didn’t have it and that was only really thanks to my mom.” She tries to not make him feel bad, because she honestly felt responsible for the mess up.

“Yeah, but I probably wouldn’t’ve realized till I got back to my place and pulled out one phone from my pocket and another one from my bag if you hadn’t tried the ‘find my iphone’ thing.”

“Oh my god, was it loud!? Did you have a hard time shutting it off?” She rushes as all the possible ways she might have annoyed Harry yesterday run through her mind.

“No, no, it was fine,” he reassures her, laughing lightly, standing up now and beginning to pace in front of his window. “Felt like a proper dick, though. Never in my life have I forgotten to give someone their phone back.” He sighs and stops in front of the window, deciding to open it for some fresh air.

Her gaze flits to a movement on the second floor of the chateau, someone opening up their window apparently. The long paned windows flip open and the little sheer curtains flutter in the slight morning breeze.

“So are you still in Bayeux?” Harry asks, hoping her answer is ‘yes’ as he takes in a deep breath of the air from outside.

“Yeah. Are you still here?” She asks timidly, moving her gaze down to her shoes bright red sticking out of the green grass. “Because that will make getting my phone back much easier,” she adds, clarifying that it’s not supposed to be a personal question, just simply a logistical one. Even if her heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing Harry again.

“Yes, I am. Well...just outside the town actually.”

“You don’t say? I’m staying just outside of town, too. At a little villa located next to a vineyard,” She looks around her surroundings again, walking the length of the garden once more. A movement from the same room that had opened their windows at the chateau catching her eye once again. A man, with his arm placed on the sill, leaning out slightly.

“You’re not wearing red shoes by any chance?” He smiles and she can hear the way it affects his words. Looking out of the window, he eyes the villa and the person who was pacing around its patio, seemingly on the phone.

Her brows raise and she stops in her tracks. “Did you just open your window?”

The only response from Harry that she hears is a soft chuckle. But, more importantly, the man in the chateau is waving to her. She grins and waves her free hand over her head, doing a slight jump to make sure he sees her. His laughter only grows, crackling slightly over the telephone line.

“What are the odds?” She breathes out after a moment. Her waving hand fell to her side and she looked at the figure in the window. It wasn’t exactly clear to her that it was Harry, but the way the man was hunched was enough to convince her. She vaguely sees him shake his head in agreement at the serendipitous nature of their current situation.

“Have you had a chance to dine in the vineyard yet?” Harry bites his lip after he asks the question, feeling a little more confident in his flirtation over the phone.

“I have - only once for dinner. Last night I was so stressed I couldn’t eat.”

“What do you think about lunch in the vineyard?” He’s smiling now, the charm dripping in every word he says. His accent is music to her ears and she thinks how could she ever say no to that offer.  

“I don’t know...lunch with my phone thief?” She imitates an unsure tone. Her tease is lighthearted and Harry huffs, playfully indignant.

“As an apology for keeping your phone by mistake,” he adds, emphasizing the ‘by mistake’ part.

“As long as I can get my phone back, I’m up for anything you want,”  She laughs, but then blushes at the innuendo that could be found in her words. Harry hears it and an amused look spreads across his face, the definition of anything running through his mind as well as his assured belief that Y/N did not mean what she had just implied. “I mean! Not anything, I just...Lunch in the vineyard would be lovely, Harry.” She sighs, a hand trailing down her face at her complete foolishness.

“Great. How does one o’clock sound?” He moves on from her slip, not wanting to embarrass her anymore. Especially when he was the one to cause this entire situation.

“Sounds smashing, Mr. Thief,” She breathes out, but laughs when she hears Harry groan.

“You’re something else, missy.”

“I know.” She rolls her eyes, trying to contain her giggles at their playful back and forth.

“See you at one.” He says finally.

“See you at one.” She echoes, continuing to watch him in the window. Neither of them seem to move to hang up. She’s stood in place and so is he, his head hanging out of the window now, resting himself on his arm. It’s just their breathing exchanging over the line and some gusts of wind crackling the connection every so often.

“Are you going to hang up?” She whispers, after a minute of complete silence, her voice coming out impossibly small.

“Thought you would’ve by now.”

“I don’t know why I can’t.” She admits, but she just feels weird hanging up on him even if they have plans to see each other later.

“Me neither.” His response causes her to tilt her head in confusion. Why would he have trouble hanging up on her?

“Okay.”

Then, it’s quiet again. Both of them shifting their bodies around, yet still managing to stay on the line. Y/N is the one who hangs up the phone after hearing Harry’s breath shake slightly, like he’s steeling himself to actually hang up. She realizes that while she doesn’t want to hang up on him, she’d rather do it than have him hang up on her. If that made any sense. She wasn’t sure, but the way he had invited her to lunch, it just felt like he had shifted their relationship from fan and star to something else. Something she didn’t fully grasp, but whatever it was made her stomach flip.

-

She informed her family that she wouldn’t be going out with them today and that she was getting her phone back, but not that she would be having lunch with Harry. She had no idea what they would think about it, but she didn’t want to give them the chance to inform her.

Walking through the vineyards, she watches the slight dust from the dirt gather on her shoes, the red converse. She had settled on what she had been wearing originally after changing her outfit upwards of twenty times. Best to be casual, she thought, like it was no big deal that she was about to dine with a musician whom she loved.

There was only one table on this side of the vineyard, it was the part owned by the chateau, a couple rows from where the villa had their tables. The simple cream tablecloth laid across the wooden table that had two matching wooden chairs with cream cushions placed around it. On top of the table was a picnic basket and a bottle of red wine, made from the grapes in the vineyard. And in one of the chairs sat Harry. Big square green glasses perched on his nose as he looked up at the sky. Y/N takes in his appearance, his cream shirt with stitched patterns on it, half unbuttoned to grant a full view of his swallows and butterfly as well as baggy light wash ripped jeans and dirty white vans. His shirt almost matches the tablecloth, but she’s not sure if he would take that as a compliment.

He hadn’t noticed her presence and he rubs his lips together, smoothing the lip balm he had applied before settling outside.

“Mr. thief?” She touches lightly on his shoulder, similar to how she had done yesterday. His head shoots up and he readjusts in his chair, to sit up slightly more upright. A smile curves onto his face and he moves his glasses up into his hair, pushing his curls back behind them.

“Y/N,” he drags out her name, toying with the sound of it. His eyes flit over her figure, taking in her outfit but quickly run back to her beautiful face. He motions for her to take a seat and she complies.

“The red shoes,” he smiles, glancing at her shoes. She laughs and does a little click of her heels.

“Can’t believe my phone was less than a mile away from me last night.”

“Oh! Your phone!” Harry’s eyes widened, “I forgot it in my room!”

Y/N laughs, her smile spreading on her face immediately, but her face falls when she sees Harry isn’t laughing. “You can’t be serious.” Harry says nothing, a blush creeping up his neck. “Harry…” she doesn’t know what else to say, scratching at the back of her head. “I guess stars really are just like us, complete space cadets.”

“I’m sorry! I was..distracted.”

She can’t keep herself from laughing and she places her hand over Harry’s on the table, trying to calm him down. “No worries, seriously, I was just teasing you. I’ve gone this long without my phone, an hour or so more won’t kill me.”

He smiles sheepishly, mentally kicking himself for how foolish he had made himself look. “Sorry ‘bout that. Seems like I’m really trying to keep your phone, doesn’t it?”

“Kind of...but I don’t think there’s anything in particular on there that you’d really be interested in having access to.”

He grabs the bottle of wine and takes the temporary cork off, he had previously uncorked it before Y/N had arrived. He pours the wine and then quirks a brow towards her. “I’m sure you’ve got some funny notes on there, you’re hilarious.”

She scoffs as his look is serious. Picking her glass up, she clinks it with Harry’s and takes a sip. She hums at the taste, judging the flavor and deeming it good. He watches her as she makes her silent decision and smirks at the way she smiles to herself. Coming back to the conversation she makes eye contact with Harry as she sets the glass down and leans back in her chair.

“You barely know me.” A coy smile flits across her features now. Harry’s heart skips a beat at her tone. He had been expecting some lighthearted quip, but this held something far more intense. It’s still teasing, but it’s far closer to flirting than friendly joking.

He begins to unpack the basket and place food onto the table, eyes constantly flickering between his task and Y/N. Her eyes are fixated on his hands, the way they flex and move and the way his rinks clink against the containers he’s moving around.

“Then tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything.” He finishes placing the food on the table and removes the basket from the table so there’s nothing obstructing their view of each other.

“Very specific,” she takes a sip of her wine again, refraining from rolling her eyes. It was easy to talk to Harry, like they had been friends forever.

Harry lets out one of his loud single laughs. “See! You’re hilarious.” His compliment makes her finally roll her eyes playfully. Instead of responding, she puts some food onto the plate in front of her and takes a bite of a peach slide she had grabbed.

“You’re a flirt,” she says finally, her smile spreading across her face.

“That’s a fact ‘bout me not you, love.”

She bites her lip. For being extremely forgetful, Harry was also extremely charming. “Well, I’m not a fan of flirts.”

“I thought you said you were a massive fan yesterday?” He tilts his head to the side and looks at her with an inviting look in his eye, obviously trying to goad her.

She let out a gasp at his words and began to blush. His stare felt like a second sun boring straight into her, its heat traveling directly to her core. Trying to maintain her collected appearance that she had played so well yesterday, she takes a breath and another sip of wine. The liquid ran down her throat, soothing her. Shaking her head she says, “You know what I meant.”

Biting a piece of bread, Harry nods and shoots her a wink. Her legs instinctively shift together. Finishing his chewing, he speaks up, “Okay, but seriously, tell me more about yourself.”

They settle in, getting more serious and having an actual conversation rather than flirty comments shot back and forth. By the end of the bottle of wine, Harry and Y/N are cackling about some story she’s told about her first solo trip to Amsterdam and all the trouble she got into being a twenty year old college student with easy legal access to weed.

“I remember the first time I went to Amsterdam with the band,” Harry easily segways into his own story and she perks at the words ‘the band’. After all the fun they had been having talking and getting to know each other, the idea that Harry was a famous musician had left her mind completely. For the last forty-five minutes he had just been a really nice guy who was treating her to lunch.

She looks at him expectantly. “It was crazy cool, I think I was only seventeen then? But everyone else was over 18 so they bought us a bunch of pot and we smoked it and got high off our asses. Can barely remember what we talked about, but we definitely thought it was the smartest shit ever”

“Do you ever miss that?”

He finishes off his last bit of wine, “Being young and dumb?”

“No, the, like, relationship you had with them. I don’t mean to pry, but I feel like with any close relationship, when you stop being together all the time...it’s never the same.”

Harry sighs, thinking over what you had said, now knowing it was rather serious and not just about being young. He runs a hand through his soft curls before starting his response. “Short answer is yes. But, y’know, they were my family for so long and that bond doesn’t go away, even if we go through rough patches. Like that part of my life is such an essential part of who I am, I could never throw it away or discount it. I don’t know if I miss it all of the time though. I really like who I am right now.”

She nods, finishing her wine now too. Her body is fuzzy and warm under the soft light of the afternoon. Sharing a bottle of wine was enough to make her tipsy, but she felt sober enough to carry on their serious conversation. “That’s good. It’s important to like who you are right now. It’s how you know you’re ready to be there for others.” She says thoughtfully and then adds, “I like who I am right now, too.”

Harry smiles at her, a calm expression maintaining on his face, and twists his rings on his fingers. “That’s good,” he echoes. “Do you want to go for a walk?” His voice is soft and of course she’s going to say yes.

Her response is to stand up from the table and begin putting things back into the picnic basket. Harry watches her for a moment, taking in the way she moves with so much elegance even when doing such a mundane task. He is honestly so happy that he had gotten to see her again. She had intrigued him yesterday, but he had just expected her to be one of those fleeting thoughts in his mind. Now he wasn’t so sure. He had a feeling she would live in his memory for far longer. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll come back later and grab it all.”

“You set this all up, the least I can do is clean up a little,” She looks up at him from her crouched position as she packs up the leftover food into the basket still on the ground. Her hair is slightly falling into her face and she reaches to push it behind her ear while they continue to look at one another. Harry takes his lower lip into his mouth as he continues to look at her, trying to convince himself she’s not the most beautiful woman he’s ever met.

As they walk between the grapes, they continue to talk, further investigating Y/N’s job aspirations and what Harry was planning on for his next few weeks of vacation. He leads them down a dirt path after they cross the street, moving away from both the villa and the chateau. The path has tall grass flanking its sides that pushes around in the cool summer breeze. She mentions the beautiful sound of the birds chirping and Harry agrees. They walk until they reach the small lake that’s about a ten minute walk from their respective current residences. It’s not a lake for swimming so there’s no one around, just more tall grass, some small trees, and the animals.

“It’s really so beautiful here.”

“I love it a lot, I’ve been coming down here every evening and just sitting alone for an hour or so,” Harry motions to the little wooden bench located beneath a shady tree. She looks at him questioningly, unsure if he means for them to sit. He takes her hand in response and leads them over to it. It’s right before the edge of the pond and if their legs were just a bit longer they could touch the feet into the water.

“It’s nice,” She says, turning her attention from the scenery to stare at Harry, who she finds is already looking at her. Their eyes meet and she bites her lip. He’s so close to her. Closer than they were in the shop yesterday and now their faces are on the same level. His glasses are still pushed into his curls and she decides to pluck them from his head and place them over her eyes instead. Harry protests, but she says smugly, “I’m putting them to better use than just sitting a top that head of yours. It’s quite bright out.”

Harry leans into her, extending his arm behind her and resting it on the back of the bench. She sighs peacefully, with her gaze now hidden behind the glasses. She returns her gaze out against the water and tries to shift closer to Harry casually. They stay silent, listening to the rest of the world moving around them. Soon she’s resting nestled into his side and his arm has moved from the bench to rest around her shoulders. She exhales in contentment, but neither of them have said anything for a while. They were okay with it, being held was enough. Her right hand goes up and threads with Harry’s that is hanging limply against her.

After a few more minutes of silence, Harry decides he wants to talk. “I like being around you.”

“I like being around you too, Harry. You’re different than I had expected.”

“Really?”

“Yeah..I mean there’s that sinister quote about how you should never meet your heroes. But still, you were even kinder than I expected and even though you stole my phone,” she pauses to laugh,”it kind of turned out to be a blessing in disguise because I got to see you again.”

“Thanks…” Harry sighs and she turns her face to gaze up at him. “Well, yeah, now I’m sorta glad I did take your phone. You’re really wonderful.” She smiles and he smiles just as wide.

But then her smile falters, suddenly remembering everything. It was like a self-fulfilling prophecy, she mentioned that thing about heroes and it all came crashing down around her. Yes, it was amazing to be around Harry and it was great that he had been so down to earth. But what she had just said was true too. He was her hero, he was famous and their lives didn’t connect at all. Just that one fleeting moment in the shop. If she hadn’t known him they would have never interacted. She had even been on her last legs of being in that store, she was just about to ask her mom to leave when Harry had walked through the door.

She sits up and drops her hand from his and he looks at her confused. “Did I say something wrong?” He asks, concerned. She stands up now and walks the short distance to the edge of the water, pushing his glasses on top of her head. He follows quickly, growing anxious as she stays silent. “I just..” she laughs in spite of herself, “I just feel really dumb right now.”

“What? Why?” Harry’s really confused now, she won’t meet his gaze as he faces her trying to figure out what just happened.

“I can’t believe I fooled myself into thinking for even a second this could ever be something more.” She turns to Harry finally, looking him directly in the eye, even though her eyes are prickling with tears. She’s angry with herself, not Harry. “You’re you and I’m just a fan at the end of the day. All of the flirting and touching, it can’t be anything more. At most, I’m a one night stand. And as great as that would be in the moment, I know how I feel about you and I know it would ruin me. I can’t be a fling for you, Harry. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he grabs her arm, trying to comfort her, she shrugs him off. “You’re more than a fan to me, I thought that was obvious by now. You wouldn’t be some meaningless one night stand. When I say I like being around you, I mean I like you, Y/N.” His voice is strong yet soft. He needs to convince her that she can feel comfortable around him, but he sees the darkness in her eyes, how scared she is of being hurt.

“I don’t fit into your life, Harry.” She shakes her head, moving her hands more as she grows more anxious.

“That’s not true. You told me you want to move to England, we could see each other there and see if this was anything.”

She knows he’s right, that it was possible, but she had worked herself up so much now that she had a hard time believing it. She takes a deep breath, “Just answer me this. Would you have given me a second glance if I hadn’t come up to you in that shop yesterday? Or a second thought if there hadn’t been the phone mishap?”

Harry is taken aback. Her words had nothing to do with what he had just said. He had thought his solution was actually really great, a plan he had been meaning to tell her if the rest of the day had gone accordingly, which it didn’t seem to be doing. He pauses and if Y/N was anymore distraught that would have been her cue to leave. Thankfully, she had grounded herself enough in the situation to not let her hot head get in the way of this conversation.

“That’s a pretty unfair question, Y/N. It’s not like I’m constantly looking for someone to fancy.”

“Just answer the questions.”

“Probably not, about the first one, I hadn’t even noticed anyone in the shop before you came up to me. I was off in my own world.” She nods, taking his words into account. He continues, “But yes, about the second one, I thought about you in the car ride home before your phone even rang. Like I said, I like you.”

“Okay.” She softens.

“That’s it?”

“I mean you’re right. We could see each other in London and see if this is something. I just had to know about the other stuff, it was racing through my mind and I wouldn’t get over it unless you gave me an answer.”

“Oh, so can I kiss you?” His words broke the uncomfortable tension that had surrounded them.

“You still want to?” Her voice is small and unsure. The most nervous she had been around Harry was right now.  

“I want to do so much more than that, darling, you have no idea.” He cups her cheek and wraps an arm around her waist. She giggles in nervous anticipation. Then his lips gently push onto hers and she sighs into the kiss. At the edge of the lake, the pair of them taste each other for the first time. Tongues begin licking into each other’s mouths and the kiss becomes breathless. Her hands are at the base of his neck, tugging him closer to her while he tightens his grasp around her waist. She moans slightly when Harry nips at her lower lip and he smirks, happy with the sound she makes.

“We should probably go get my phone.” Harry whimpers at her words.

“What?” Harry is once again confused by the woman before him, who had now pulled from their kiss.

“My phone is in your room…” She trails off and then eyes widen and he giggles excitedly. Eventually realizing what she’s implying.

“Yes! Yes, we should go do that. Get your phone. In my room. Sounds like a good idea. Mhmm.” He pecks her lips between each sentence.

“You’re so weird,” she laughs and brings down his shades onto her face once again. He pulls her into his side and kisses the top of her head as they begin their walk back to the chateau.

“Do you want your phone or not?”

[iamanartichoke]

(Posting this as its own meta post bc I keep thinking about it and, idk, just some food for thought. [Originally posted as a response to an ask meme here.])

Loki: Hero, Antihero, or Villain? 

Honestly, none of them.

Loki is very much not the hero. Which is a complicated statement to make bc Loki does have a lot of the qualities that make a traditional hero (such as bravery, courage, etc), which make it all the more frustrating how many people dismiss him as just being evil. He’s not evil, but he’s not motivated by a noble need to do the right thing, either.

He’s a sympathetic character, in that he’s not malicious or cruel. He doesn’t do bad things for the sake of it, but he still does do bad things. He’s very intrinsically motivated, which gives a deeper context to his misdeeds but also colors his good deeds, too. He usually isn’t doing the good deed for pure, noble reasons. I think that Loki’s nature doesn’t really allow him to have too many of those “I just have an urge to do the right thing” moments; the way his mind works, I feel like he’s constantly weighing every angle and may often be acting from a place of “how can I make this work for me” even when he’s doing something that is, objectively, heroic.

But Loki is not a villain, either, and I don’t think I have to get too far into an explanation of why. He just isn’t.

I feel like, then, there’s a tendency to say, okay, well Loki isn’t the hero but he’s not a villain either so he must be an antihero, but to be honest, I’m not entirely sure that’s accurate. The prefix “anti” literally means being opposed to or against something; in order to be an antihero, one must be opposed to and in objection of the things that make one a hero (such as bravery, selflessness, a strong moral compass). Loki is not opposed to those heroic traits; he possesses a lot of them himself, in fact.

That said, a lot of arguably good characters are the antiheroes because they’re doing their shitty things for the greater good. They’re willing to cross boundaries and may tend to be morally gray. The villain has no qualms about doing awful things, bc they’re often cruelly motivated; they either start out as morally bankrupt or get twisted that way somewhere during the journey.

The antihero, on the other hand, has qualms about doing awful things but will do them anyway bc the ends justify the means; to them, if they need to get their hands dirty on the way to accomplishing some larger goal, then they will. I think in this sense, Loki’s actions in Thor 1 - in letting the Jotuns into Asgard to prevent Thor’s coronation - are the actions of an antihero, but I think he generally shifts away from that “the ends justify the means” mentality after he falls. If that makes sense.

So I think that, like the hero, Loki embodies some antihero traits but isn’t actually an antihero character.

I think that the best way I can frame Loki is simply that of a foil to Thor. This is part of why their relationship is such an important part of their character developments - they’re foils to one another, really. They’re literally night and day:

Thor does things for the noble reason, out of the need to do the right thing; Loki does things for any number of reasons, and rarely are they particularly noble.

Thor outwardly and loudly embodies everything that an Asgardian warrior should be; Loki’s ferocity as a warrior is much more subtle, graceful, and fluid.

Thor  is very idealistic, whereas Loki tends to be more cynical.

Similarly, Thor is optimistic and pretty naive, whereas Loki is pessimistic and untrusting. While Thor kinda takes things as face value and accepts the narratives he’s handed (Odin as a hero, Asgard as the protector of realms, etc) Loki’s general inquizitive nature in addition to often being distrusted himself lends itself to a natural tendency to dig deeper and ask questions.

In my opinion, neither of them is better than the other; Thor’s qualities aren’t inherently “good” any more than Loki’s qualities are inherently “bad.” They’re just opposites and it’s why they work so well together.

Unfortunately, in a hero vs. villain story, the nuances of the foil relationship are sacrificed for a much more black-and-white view, and that’s why we are where we are in regards to Loki.

I don’t know if I’m explaining this particularly well ... but yeah; to me, Loki is neither a hero nor a villain nor an antihero, he’s basically Thor’s foil but he’s also just Loki.

[tennessoui]

There's something about seeing a civilized, prim and proper man like Obi turning into a touch-starved feral mess that is just *chef kiss* The other Jedi are shocked and don't know what to do. Anakin has a snuggly shadow who follows him everywhere bc he KNOWS if Anakin leaves his sight, he will lose him (eg after their blow up fight). And Obi forgetting the code and himself and everything except Anakin...why must you hurt me so good?

yes!!!! i imagine that obi-wan does not let him out of his sight for any period of time

anyway this is a bit short and a little more feral and violent than the other one but here is feral!obi-wan where he was anakin's master before.

(1.6k)

This can’t be his master, is the first thought that filters through the white noise in Anakin’s mind.

His master, before he’d been taken from him, had been the primmest, cleanest, most civilized person Anakin had ever met in his entire life. He’d been meticulously groomed, always. Anakin doesn’t remember ever seeing even a speck of dirt on his master’s pristine robes.

He’d looked perfect even the night he’d disappeared. He’d looked untouchable and perfect even during their argument. Anakin’s face had been flushed, his eyes wide and wet, his hair a mess. Obi-Wan had been perfectly put-together, voice sharp and ice cold in his reprimand of his apparently atrocious behavior.

Anakin doesn’t even remember what the argument had been about. He’d been fifteen years old. He’d have argued with the Force itself given half the chance and a direction to shout at.

The important thing is he’d been stupid enough to block their bond, stupid enough to leave their rooms for a walk without telling his master where he was going. And his master must have thought he’d be stupid enough to leave the safety of the building on a war-torn planet too, because Obi-Wan had gone out looking for him. He’d passed right by his hiding place. Anakin hadn’t said a thing, just watched his master go, too angry and hurt to think of the dangers that lurked outside the door.

In his mind, there was nothing that his master couldn’t handle, couldn’t defeat.

That was the last time Anakin had ever seen Obi-Wan Kenobi; the last time, actually, that anyone had.

It’s been seven years.

And now there’s someone on the floor in front of him, crouched over a body of one of the pirates who had been drinking in the main room the other night.

When Anakin and Ahsoka shut off the power to the facility in a bid to open the door to Master Windu’s cell, they hadn’t taken into account that there may be other people in other cells.

And now they’re standing in the main hall, lightsabers drawn, pirates stunned and groaning and tied up around them, and there’s someone crouched in the middle of the room, a dead body beneath him and golden eyes roving around looking for the next target.

And there’s something in Anakin that pounds at the cage of himself, that looks at this dirty, bloody, ungroomed, feral person, and thinks, That’s my master. That’s Obi-Wan Kenobi. That’s him I have finally found him.

But this. This can’t be his master.

His master would never snap a man’s neck with his hands. He’d never make those sounds with his throat, he’d never crouch that low to the ground, and he’d never have gold eyes.

But.

But there’s something in his force signature that feels so familiar. And it makes Anakin stumble forward, closer to the man--to Obi-Wan--before he even realizes what he’s doing.

“Skywalker, don’t!” Windu snaps, with what sounds like fear in his voice. But Anakin can’t stop, won’t stop until he knows for sure that this is or isn’t his missing master.

The man on the ground growls at him as he approaches, eyes narrowed into golden slits. Anakin halts his progress a few steps away when the man shifts his weight, as if getting ready to pounce.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispers, voice breaking in the middle of the second syllable. Ahsoka draws in a sharp breath from behind him. She knows what this means to him. Everyone probably does. “Obi-Wan, it’s me.”

When the man looks up at him and snarls without a glint of recognition in his golden eyes, Anakin feels his legs give out and his own force signature explode outward in pain and guilt and anguish because if this is not Obi-Wan, then his master is still out there somewhere. And if this is Obi-Wan, then...then he doesn’t remember him. Anakin.

The man goes dangerously still when Anakin’s mind brushes his own, and he tilts his head to the side as he stares at him with an unreadable expression.

“Anakin!” Ahsoka yelps, darting forward to help her master up.

But before she can get close enough to touch him, the world spins and Anakin finds himself on the ground completely, with the man’s form hunched over his and one long-nailed hand pressed into the skin of his throat.

The snarls are infinitely louder when they’re right next to his ear.

“Stay back!” Anakin shouts over the noise to Ahsoka and Windu, both who have moved forward immediately. Ahsoka takes another step forward anyway, and the snarls turn downright vicious.

Anakin could try to get out of the man’s hold, but not without hurting him. And if this is Obi-Wan Kenobi, then he’s been hurt enough already.

“Ahsoka, stay back,” he says again in his firm Master voice. “I have this handled.”

Looking rebellious, Ahsoka steps back to her original place.

The threat taken care of, the man on top of Anakin turns his full attention to him again.

Anakin feels like he’s been stabbed with a lightsaber when he sees the familiar mole on the man’s forehead. “Master,” he breathes. “Master.”

Obi-Wan growls something out, and bumps their heads together.

Anakin blinks in confusion and shakes his head. Obi-Wan growls that same roughened word again, and then again even louder, and then Anakin starts to weep.

Ani.

He’s saying Ani.

“Yeah,” Anakin whispers back. “Yeah, I’m--I’m Ani. I’m. I’m your Ani.”

Obi-Wan sniffs at his cheek and then licks the tear away, making a distressed sound in the back of his throat. “Ani,” he rumbles. “No. Won’t. Won’t Ani.”

Anakin doesn’t know what that means, so instead of answering verbally, he reaches out with the Force and touches their minds together again. It’s easy to enter Obi-Wan’s mind. His master’s impeccable shields are nowhere to be found.

Instead, there is only darkness and a landscape of pain. Anakin is vaguely aware that he’s crying harder now, that he’s sobbing, but in Obi-Wan's mind all of Anakin’s worst nightmares about what happened to his master prove true.

Obi-Wan reaches back clumsily but with great enthusiasm, and Anakin tries to stuff away his own feelings of pain and guilt and enfuse his thoughts with all the happiness and affection and love his master has ever made him feel.

On top of him, Obi-Wan whimpers high in his throat and presses forward, impossibly closer. Anakin raises his hand to stroke at the muscle of Obi-Wan’s bare bicep, sending him soothing comfort. Obi-Wan latches on and pulls Anakin back into his mind.

Their old training bond, never severed, roars into life and it feels so good, the perfect mix of pain and pleasure and aching relief that Anakin forgets where he is for several moments.

Obi-Wan is back. Obi-Wan is back.

Footsteps approach from behind them and Anakin snaps back into his own head as Obi-Wan snarls dangerously at the intruder, tensing his body as if preparing for a fight. “Won’t Ani,” his master growls, words hardly distinguishable.

“Anakin,” and it’s Windu. “Is that--are you--” “He is, it’s him,” Anakin replies, not taking his eyes off of Obi-Wan. “I felt...Master, I felt his memories in his mind. They’re...unfocused and old, but. The pirates, they--”

They had wanted Anakin, the people who took Obi-Wan. They had wanted to sell him, thinking they could fetch a high price for a Jedi padawan. When they got Obi-Wan instead, they’d hurt him in an attempt to get him to tell them where he was.

Obi-Wan hadn’t. Obi-Wan hadn’t once, not in seven years.

Anakin can feel tears dripping down his face, and Obi-Wan breaks off his staring contest with Mace to coo at him in distress.

“Master Windu won’t hurt me,” he tells Obi-Wan. “It’s alright. We’ll be alright.”

He desperately tries to believe it, even as the words leave his mouth.

When Windu steps closer, Obi-Wan snaps at him.

“Master,” Anakin says softly, touching the side of Obi-Wan’s face with his hand. “Obi-Wan.”

His master swings his attention down to him immediately, and Anakin uses their bond to slip a Force suggestion into his mind. Sleep.

Obi-Wan obviously doesn’t want to, but his golden eyes drift halfway shut anyway. Sleep, Anakin insists, rubbing his thumb over his cheek.

It only takes one more command for Obi-Wan to collapse on top of him, unconscious.

“Get him onto the ship,” Anakin says in a no-nonsense tone as he slips out from underneath the body of his master and stands, looking dispassionately at the dead pirate next to them. “And prepare for take off, Ahsoka.”

Master Windu looks at him silently.

“Please,” Anakin tries. “I don’t know how long he’ll be under, but we need to get him back to the Temple.”

“And what will you be doing?” Windu asks.

Anakin’s jaw clenches and unclenches. He wishes Windu had not been the one captured. It makes what he will do next infinitely harder. “Please, master. I just. I just need a moment to myself. I--” he doesn’t have to fake the way his voice gives out, nor the way his hand shakes when he reaches up to wipe away his tears. “Please.”

Master Windu’s stern face caves in with compassion, and he nods once. “Ahsoka,” he tells Anakin’s padawan, “help me with Knight Kenobi.”

Together, they levitate the unconscious form of Anakin’s master out of the main hall.

As soon as the doors close behind them, Anakin uses the Force to hold them tightly shut.

He turns to face the pirates, the ones who had hurt his master, held him against his will, and broken his mind.

It’s the easiest thing in the entire galaxy to flick his lightsaber on.

“Please,” he smiles. “Do not scream.”

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 7: Green Light

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[masterlist]

note: i don’t know why i can’t edit chapter 6 so hopefully you reach this chapter

2 weeks.

2 weeks have passed ever since that night Yuta walked you home, the same night that you and Kuroo got into the biggest fight you’ve ever had. The doors were slammed, the remote of the TV flew from one wall to another, your voices were on top of your lungs.

Kuroo threw words he shouldn’t have, like accusing you of cheating on him. You even went on your knees just to prove to him that you didn’t. Apology after apology. You didn’t even know why you were asking for forgiveness when you did nothing wrong. He told you to leave, you should have, but you didn’t. You couldn’t leave him. You love him way too much even if he does you so wrong.

Kuroo has all red lights turn into green and you let him drive you insane.

But you’re getting tired of the ride that doesn’t have a destination.

——————————————————————————

“Just go see (Y/N) at her office,” Kenma tells Kuroo as the two are looking over files. “My secretary and her secretary are friends. I can ask for her schedule if you want.”

“Why would I?” Kuroo scoffs confidently and his friend deadpans at him. “What? It’s not like I miss her or something.”

“You’ve been writing her name and scratching over it like a teenager going through a heartbreak. I thought the two of you made up already?” Kenma rebuts and the raven head pouts.

“We did.” Kuroo continues to read the document, trying his best not to get distracted by invasive thoughts of you. ‘But she isn’t chasing after me like she used to.’

You really have been different. Yes, you still message him and act sweet around him, but it seems like you’re forcing your actions, especially sex. Whenever you have time to go home, you two only do the deed, then sleep, and then he wakes up to an empty bed again.

Sex is good, great even. Kuroo loves doing it with you. But it isn’t enough. When was the last time you went on a date? Or ate a meal together? Or talked about your days? When was the last time you told him you love him?

“So why are you moping around?”

‘Because I miss her,’ Kuroo’s inside thought speaks in volume. He really does miss you but he can’t say it out loud. “I don’t know man. I guess because of work.”

“But aren’t you here with me because you barely have work to do?” Kenma says in an almost teasing tone. Kuroo just rolls his eyes and ignores his friend. Oh how the tables have suddenly turned. Kenma is the one teasing him now.

Kenma then realizes that Kuroo has finally started caring about you.

Kuroo arrives at your workplace earlier than your meeting time because he’s that excited to see you. He even bought flowers for you and pastries for your workmates. It’s his way for thanking them for taking care of you at your work. Also, it’s to let them know that you’re together so they stop shipping you with other people.

“Oh, Kuroo, you’re here,” Terushima greets him as they meet in the lobby. “(Y/N) has an emergency photoshoot today so I guess it’s your lucky day.”

“Photoshoot for what?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow as he follows Terushima inside the studio of your office. There are big lighting equipments, a huge white backdrop in the room, and a lot of wedding dresses.

“For our wedding dresses catalogue. Usually, Alisa does it but she’s sick today so (Y/N) has to take her place,” Terushima explains and Kuroo nods in comprehension. “I think she’s preparing for the last dress already so you don’t have to wait long for her to finish.”

Terushima gives Kuroo a chair he can sit on and directs him to a spot where he can see you while you shoot. While waiting for you, he hands out goodies to your coworkers, bowing and thanking each one of them.

Not long after, you come out in a white tulle ball gown with white flower petals on the bodice and ends of the dress. Your hair and makeup done bridal style: subtle, elegant and will surely take the groom’s breath away. Kuroo doesn’t know why but his breathing pattern suddenly changes and his heart beat picks up a rather speedy pace.

You literally and figuratively took his breath away.

‘I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack,’ Kuroo thinks without knowing that he has a sweet smile on his face. His eyes are staring at you in admiration, maybe even in a loving way. You just look too gorgeous in that dress it makes him wonder what you’d wear in your wedding if you even had one.

Come to think of it, what would you like your whole wedding to be?

The man is getting flustered just thinking about your wedding day. You’ll have one soon, right? It’s working out for the two of you so there definitely will be one. Or so he thinks that it’s working out for the two of you.

“Kuroo?”

“Kuroo.”

“Kuroo!”

“Yes?” Kuroo finally snaps out of his thoughts and sees Terushima smirking at him. “What?”

“You’re staring too much,” the blonde chuckles. He expects Kuroo to deny it and such so he gets shock when the raven states...

“Why wouldn’t I? My wife looks mesmerizing.” Kuroo continues to watch your shoot, his attention only on you and no one else. You finally see him, so you flash him a sweet smile and flirty wink before focusing back to your work.

Kuroo giggles with a blushing face which causes Terushima to laugh at his reaction. Terushima teases him so he hits Terushuma, telling the blonde to stop teasing him. “You are such a simp!”

The two of them are having butterflies in their stomachs because they’re lowkey like teenage girls, giggling and whispering to each other with blushes on their face, talking about the love of their life. If you’re looking from a far, you would never know what they are talking about.

The shoot finally ends and your secretary tells Kuroo to wait for you at your office. He does as told and roams around your workplace while he waits. He finds your little bedroom and sees some of your belongings in there. It must be where you sleep when you finish work when trains stop operating for the day.

Kuroo hears your door open so he gets out of the tiny room and skips to you, hugging you tightly in the middle of the room. He takes a look at your face and then tackles it with kisses, enabling you start a proper conversation.

“I missed you.”

Kiss.

“I missed you.”

Kiss.

“I missed you so much.”

Kiss.

“Tetsu, love,” you call him out in between giggles, your hands trying to cup his cheeks for him to stop, but he captures your lips with his first. Your eyes flutter close and give into his actions.

“You looked so beautiful in that dress, my love. Makes me wanna marry you again.”

You’re supposed to be happy hearing his words. Your heart should be jumping out of your rib cage by now. So why can you feel yourself forcing a smile?

“Love, do you mind if I ask you a question?” Kuroo asks you, his arms snaking around your body, nuzzling his nose on the crook your neck. You just humm, eyes closed, fingers tangled into his hair.

“What’s your ideal wedding?”

Your lids shut open from his question. “All of a sudden?”

“I just got curious.” Kuroo shrugs, waiting for your answer. He’s ready to take mental notes and use it when you plan your wedding.

“I’ve never thought about it,” you answer honestly. Kuroo moves away from you and stares, not believing the words that came out of your mouth. “What? I always knew I was getting arranged so I never thought about having my own wedding.”

“You’re a wedding planner and you never dreamed about your own wedding?” Kuroo is skeptical about your statement and he also feels disappointed?

You’ve never thought about your wedding? As in the ‘you as the bride and him as the groom’ wedding? Has it really not passed your mind even just for a second? Because that was all he was thinking about when he saw you in that wedding dress and up to this moment.

“I just don’t see myself having my own wedding,” you explain, not sparing a glance at his disheartened face.

“Not even with me?” He says without thinking, which you look at him for. You examine his face and see how he genuinely looks discouraged about your words. Not understanding why is he so hurt about your words, you cock an eyebrow at him.

“We’re married.”

“But we haven’t had a wedding ceremony. I personally think it’ll be great to have one,” Kuroo says as if it’s not a big deal, but deep inside he is making a huge fuss about it. He’s indirectly proposing to you and if you turn it down, his heart will shatter to pieces.

“Let’s see after our trying period,” is all you responded. Your response breaks him. You haven’t decided if you’ll stay with him?

He can feel his chest tigthen and hand sweat. Why are you saying that when months ago you were speaking about how much you love him? Why are you saying that when weeks ago you were begging him to forgive you?

“Don’t you love me anymore?”

——————————————————————————

Facts:

The idea of signal lights was first used on railroads to prevent trains from colliding. These signals were then adapted all over the world and used in roads since it worked so well.

The original pattern was red for danger, green for caution, and white to go. However, since white could have been easily missed against a starry sky so then it was changed to the green, yellow, and red we know of now.

The first constructed roads date from about 4000 BC

Roman roads were often stone-paved.

The Pan-American Highway is the longest roadway in the world, spanning around 19,000 miles or 30,000 kilometers

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[lavellander]

hello im feeling extra “touch the stove”-y today so. i was looking for any dialogue where solas just straight up lies and (of what i could find online/transcribed, obv) i didnt find anything that was 100% untrue. he’ll completely avoid the question, change the subject, give part of the truth, etc etc etc, but nothing was just Entirely A Lie

what really gets me is that there’s a handful of convos where someone infers something from what solas says, and he will even point out that he didn’t directly say that. like, he tells people how to see through his shit, lmao

here is an embarrassingly long ass list of examples, all sorted by what kind of not-lying he’s doing lol, just bc i am unhinged<3

*note that some of these are cut from longer bits of dialogue or have been split up from one conversation into different categories*

literally just Not Answering The Question lol

Dorian: How much “will” do they have? They’re amorphous constructs of the Fade. Solas: Hmm.

Dorian: Solas, have I offended you? Solas: If you have, why would it concern you?

Dorian: Solas, what is this whole look of yours about? Solas: I’m sorry? Dorian: No, that outfit is sorry. What are you supposed to be, some kind of woodsman? Dorian: Is it a Dalish thing? Don’t you dislike the Dalish? Or is it some kind of statement? Solas: No.

Dorian: Let me get this straight, Solas. Dorian: You’re an apostate – neither Dalish nor city elf – who lived alone in the woods studying spirits. Solas: Is that a problem for you?

Solas: [has a whole tactical moment about the red jennies lmao] Sera: Where d’you get all this, then? Solas: Do you wish to be unnerved by another tale of my explorations of the Fade? Or do you wish to learn something?

Vivienne: You must be pleased with what was revealed at the Temple of Mythal, Solas. Solas: Why should those ruins please me, Enchanter?

changing the subject before he backs himself into a corner

Gatt: I don’t see any tattoos, but you’re carrying a staff. Are you from a Chantry Circle? Solas: No. And I would prefer not to discuss it.

Solas: I find the fall of the dwarven lands confusing. Varric: What’s so confusing about endless darkspawn? Solas: A great deal, although that is a different matter.

giving the truth, but not the whole truth

Blackwall: Skyhold. How did you find it? Solas: I looked. Blackwall: Now you sound like Cole. You looked? Solas: This world is full of wonders for those who seek them.

Blackwall: You spoke of seeing death and destruction. Did you fight in a war? Solas: There are struggles across Thedas at any given time. I doubt you would have heard of it. Blackwall: An elven skirmish? Solas: In a manner of speaking, yes.

Cassandra: Solas, have you always lived alone? Out in the wilderness, as an apostate? Solas: For the most part.

Cassandra: Have you ever encountered templars before? Solas: Only at a distance. I am an apostate, after all. Cassandra: And they never caught you even once? Solas: I am a very careful apostate.

Dorian: We found elves, living ancient elves, at the Temple of Mythal. Does that bother you, Solas? If Inquisitor allied with the Sentinels: Solas: I am pleased we were not forced to kill them, if that’s what you mean.

Iron Bull: You’ve got an odd style, Solas. Your spells are a bit different from the Circle mages or the Vints. Solas: That comes from being self-taught. Solas: I discovered most of my magic on my own, or learned it from my journeys in the Fade.

Vivienne: So, an apostate? Solas: That is correct, Enchanter. I did not train in your Circle.

Solas: You are a man who made a choice... possibly the first of your life. Iron Bull: I’ve always liked fighting. What if I turn savage, like the other Tal-Vashoth? Solas: You have the Inquisition, you have the Inquisitor... and you have me.

from cutscene at beginning Inquisitor: [mentions the anchor closing a rift] Solas: Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct.

from cutscene at beginning Solas: [to a Dalish Inq] You are Dalish, but clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here? Inquisitor: What do you know of the Dalish? Solas: I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion. Inquisitor: [Crossed paths? dialogue choice] Solas: I mean that I offered to share knowledge, only to be attacked for no greater reason than their superstition.

from “I’d like to know more about you” convo in Haven Inquisitor: What made you start studying the Fade? Solas: I grew up in a village to the north. There was little to interest a young man, especially one gifted with magic. But as I slept, spirits of the Fade showed me glimpses of wonders I had never imagined. I treasured my dreams. Being awake, out of the Fade, became troublesome.

actually telling the truth but no one picks up on the gravity of it

Solas: [...] I believe the elven gods existed, as did the old gods of Tevinter. But I do not think any of them were gods, unless you expand the definition of the word to the point of absurdity. I appreciate the idea of your Maker, a god that does not need to prove his power. I wish more such gods felt the same. Cassandra: You have seen much sadness in your journeys, Solas. Following the Maker might offer some hope. Solas: I have people, Seeker. The greatest triumphs and tragedies this world has known can all be traced to people.

Cole: No, inside. I don’t hear your hurt as much. Your song is softer, subtler, not silent but still. Solas: How small the pain of one man seems when weighted against the endless depths of memory, of feeling, of existence. That ocean carries everyone. And those of us who learn to see its currents move through life with their fewer ripples.

Cole: You didn’t do it to be right. You did it to save them. Inquisitor: Solas, what is Cole talking about? Solas: A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything.

Solas: Empires rise and fall. Arlathan was no more “innocent” than your own Tevinter in its time. Solas: Your nostalgia for the ancient elves, however romanticized, is pointless.

Solas: Our people used to be here. Sera: Pfft, you say that everywhere. Solas: It is more true than you want to believe.

Vivienne: You must be pleased, apostate. With the Templars dissolved, your rebels will be most difficult to pacify. Solas: My rebels? Am I an agent for their cause, whispering poison into the Inquisition’s ears? Solas: How comforting. Vivienne: You enjoy seeing yourself as a villain? Solas: No more than any other clever man who wonders what he could do if pushed.

Vivienne: [about the Temple of Mythal] Now you know the elves were once a mighty nation. Solas: I always knew, Enchanter. The Temple of Mythal is just another reminder of what was lost.

(in the Emerald Graves): These forests have changed much since I was last here.

during the Fade!Haven cutscene Solas: It seems you hold the key to our salvation. You had sealed it with a gesture... and right then, I felt the whole world change. Inquisitor: [romance option] “Felt the whole world change?” Solas: A figure of speech. Inquisitor: I’m aware of the metaphor. I’m more interested in felt. Solas: You change... everything.

pointing out that people assume he means things he did not directly say

Cole: There is pain though, still within you. Solas: And I never said there was not.

Solas: You may well become fully human, after all. I never thought to see it. Cole: When did you see it before? Solas: I did not say that I had.

Iron Bull: We’ve got the alliance with my people. Given how much you love the Qun, I figured... Solas: I might scold you? Berate you for your decisions? Iron Bull: Hey. The Chargers died as heroes for the good of the mission. Solas: I never said otherwise.

Sera: Don’t you start. Solas: I’m reasonably certain I said nothing.

Vivienne: [talking shit about grey warden mages] Solas: I never claimed mages should be above the law, Enchanter. Vivienne: No, darling. You merely implied it, while offering no viable suggestions for improvement.

after infamous “side benefits” dialogue Warrior Inquisitor: You find my muscles enjoyable? Solas: I meant that you enjoyed having them, presumably. Warrior Inquisitor: Ah. Solas: But yes... since you asked.

diminishing things he does actually know by saying he he “believes” or “thinks,” or that things were vaguely “said” or “told”

Solas: I say what I believe to be true, even if it gives offense to those who prefer the lie.

Dorian: That orb Corypheus carries... are you certain it’s of elven origin, Solas? Solas: I believe so. Why do you ask?

Solas: It is said that we lived at a pace that sustained us for... ages.

making it sound like he’s talking about something/someone else, but it’s just him lmao

Cole: Do you know a lot about wolves? Solas: I know that they are intelligent, practical creatures that small-minded fools think of as terrible beasts.

Solas: No man can kill so many people without breaking inside. To survive... those you fight must become monsters. Iron Bull: The ones that kill innocent people, yeah. The rest... I don’t know. Solas: The mind does marvelous things to protect itself.

during In Hushed Whispers Inquisitor: I’m glad you understood what he just said because I’m not sure I did. Solas: You would think such understanding would stop me from making such terrible mistakes. You would be wrong.

misc

this one i wanted to include because it’s the only circumstance (that i came across) where someone directly asks solas to lie and he literally says he can’t

during the fucking crestwood breakup scene Inquisitor: [angry option] Tell me you don’t care. Solas: I can’t do that. Inquisitor: Tell me I was some casual dalliance so I can call you a cold-hearted son of a bitch and move on! Solas: I’m sorry.

*also note that most of these are banter transcriptions from the wiki; some are cutscene / other dialogue posted by either @/daitranscripts or u/karinini on reddit; it’s not all his cutscenes obv, but I’m not about to look up every single one individually sdlkfj*

[valeriele3]

I posted 1,389 times in 2022

That's 1,389 more posts than 2021!

128 posts created (9%)

1,261 posts reblogged (91%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@yandere-daze

@honeybeewhereartthee

@mishkakagehishka

@little-miss-mei

@fandangotales

I tagged 736 of my posts in 2022

Only 47% of my posts had no tags

#genshin impact - 242 posts

#twisted wonderland - 193 posts

#twst - 158 posts

#genshin x reader - 125 posts

#ensemble stars - 121 posts

#genshin impact x reader - 118 posts

#enstars - 113 posts

#twisted wonderland x reader - 97 posts

#genshin - 97 posts

#sagau - 86 posts

Longest Tag: 87 characters

#🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Self-aware Genshin not so original idea question

How would the characters react to the player crying?

In Ayato‘s release I got him on my first 10 pull after that I tried pulling for Venti

I think there was like only 2-3 days left before he was gone? I kept crying and crying and saying out loud that I want him to come home desperately

Then as a last resort I did a single pull and he came home

——————————————

And yesterday..I lost the 50/50 to Diluc (Since he just lovessss me so much he keeps appearing in my main and other accs) while my sister and her friend got Scara

So I said something like “I swear I will cry I will cry right now” and I did. I forced myself to cry yesterday and said some things that make it sounds like I’m incredibly desperate for Scara (which I am..)

I haven’t pulled again for Scara today since im trying to save up for another 10 pull but hopefully my little ritual of crying will work

245 notes - Posted December 8, 2022

#4

I want to see a Genshin Sagau/self-aware au! Where the Reader/player is actually aware the game is self-aware

Usually self-aware fics are about the player being nice and everything which makes the characters fall in love or sometimes the characters hate the reader/player bc they’re treated badly or Reader insults them. (<- ex. Reader makes fun of Fischl bc of her chuunibyou personality which results in Fischl being hurt and less confident because even the “almighty creator” is making fun of her/hates her)

What if the player/reader acts nice towards their characters? They’re sooo nice you might mistake them for an angel..

So naturally the characters will fall in love with them and grow obsessed like how it always it but what they don’t know is that the player is aware the characters are self-aware and that everything they’ve been doing and saying is all an act

The player isn’t actually as kind as an angel. No. They’re “evil”..They knew that if they acted all nice in front of the characters they’ll be in love and obsessed with the player so they put on an act

Why did they act nice? So that in the rare chance they get transported into Teyvat they will have all of the playable characters wrapped around their finger..

The player could easily manipulate the characters around and the characters wouldn’t even question the weird orders/tasks

All they know is that if their beloved creator said that this person must die then that person deserves death because how could their lovely creator wish the death of someone innocent?

248 notes - Posted December 22, 2022

#3

Random thought for the self-aware au!

What if..

The characters insert Morse codes or some $h¡t inside the game to talk with the player? Like, they so desperately wanted to talk with their beloved player that they had a thought..If they can’t talk to them(player) directly, why not indirectly?

They somehow manage to break into the games systems and insert little messages for the player to find

They can alter/change the current existing texts or add new ones while making sure the devs don’t see the changes

You can just be playing a story quest and what you see in text and what the character is saying is completely different

Ex.

Character: Traveler could you please help me find my lost keys?

Text: Traveler I missed you so so much! When will you finally decide to join us in Teyvat?

Ex2.

While looking through the settings or options in game you notice it’s suddenly different.

Instead of seeing “Office” it says “.. .-.. -.--“ and instead of “Work” it says

“../ -- .. … …/ -.-- .-“

Edited/Added Idea:

Ex 3. (For Danganronpa)

What if they’re put in the killing game and as time goes on the MC(Kaede/Shuichi, Hinata, Makoto) start to notice the players presence and start to feel love & admire the player for helping them.

But that innocent love slowly turns corrupted, obsessive. By that time the other characters have also found out about the player because of the MC’s strange behavior and they go through what the MC does..They’re thankful someone even bothers to help them in this helpless situation..That thankfulness turns to admiration turns to love and turns to obsession

They want the players attention. They NEED their attention.

And so, the killings continue and dear player doesn’t even realize their game is self-aware. They just think that this is how the game is supposed to go

If someone uses this idea please tag me I need to read it. I’ve been looking for something like this but haven’t been able to

470 notes - Posted October 30, 2022

#2

Isekai’d player who willingly agrees with being locked up in the yandere’s home and treats them with lots of love they’ve always wanted to give because they still think of everything as just a “game” or a fever “dream”

512 notes - Posted December 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

TWST x Reader who falls into a long sleep randomly once in a while

It was just a normal day in NRC or well..As normal as it can be

Everything is good, life is good, not that stressful

But then, slowly everyone started noticing how the Prefect and their little cat(Grimm) has been missing the entire day..

Panic soon arises in the school grounds and almost everyone in the school looking for their dear prefect(and cat)

A whole day passes with no sign of them..Then a week, a month, and almost 2 months

Everyone is starting to loose hope. What happened to them? Did they get hurt? Are they safe? Did they leave? Are they back to their original world? If so, why didn’t they say goodbye..? Were they really that unimportant to them?

It was another day of looking for prefect. They all decided to search again in the city and the nearby forest with another plan to meet up in the plaza at 8pm to report their findings

The clock strikes 8 and again, no news..But wait, one group is missing. The Adeuce is missing

Then suddenly, they all heard someone scream “Y/N! I FOUND THEM THEYRE DEAD!”

Panic, shock, horror, sadness, and anger is all they feel..They quickly rush to the area where they heard Ace scream

Once there they find Deuce standing and crying regret for not being with them in his eyes, Ace crying hysterically while holding onto a “dead” Y/N

——————————————

After everything was set, it was finally time for Y/N’s funeral..Some expressed their sadness and the others tried to hide it to keep up a front and look unbothered

They were just about to bury them when suddenly..The casket is making pounding noises? And someone screaming..Something like “Hello? Where am I?!! Is someone there!”

“Oh I can still hear their voice..” Deuce said sadly

“Same..” Ace replied

“Wait guys— Stop I think the prefect really is alive..!—“ Someone in the crowd said worriedly

The top/cover of the casket gets destroyed by Readers fists and they sit up still a bit sleepy

See the full post

829 notes - Posted December 8, 2022

Ngl..I only started to post the random ideas I got because of a few authors/creators but most especially because of @yandere-daze (Sorry for the tag 😅)

It hasn’t been that long since I joined this weird community but I don’t plan on leaving any time soon. Thank you for this wonderful and adventurous year

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