#which is now giving me the time to write ahead in that verse and outside it

[schrijverr]

I gotta ask— I don't want context but how many WIP do you have and how many of them are not AUAU or I Do fics? 💜💜

lksgdhdflk, that is such a valid question. It's kind of a lot, because I have no self control and it got out of hand (but zero regrets though). As it stands now, I can continue to post three times a week until mid-Feburary... oops my hand slipped? xp

I have 3 WIPs that are 9-1-1 but not I Do fics. I have a bunch more for other fandoms, but they currently do not exist in my brain because that's just not how that works for me lol. Then excluding the I Do main fic itself, there are 6 more currently that will go up at some point.

I have more planned, but I'm writing this pretty big other fic first, since it's very much a season 8 hiatus fic, so I want to post it before season 8B airs

[i-am-a-fan]

Thoughts? 👉👈

OH MY GOD OKAY. LET ME MOVE TO MY LAPTOP FOR THIS.

ONCE AGAIN SPOILERS!!!!! FOR SEASON 5!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Take everything I say with a grain of salt. I am not a writer on the show nor have actually watched seasons 1-4 in a while, so this is all from my memory and past writings. I rewatched some a lot of episodes for screenshots and evidence.

Long ago in the pilot movie and season 1, I described Redson as awkward, prideful, and quick-tempered. This makes sense as their only real company was their neglectful mother and the bull clones. They wouldn't have had any outside influence as to how to talk to other people or how to form good connections with others. So them stuttering out of control and calling Mk and Mei names, makes sense. They basically have never interacted with anyone their age and MK and Mei are far from your average person.

Another thing to note is that Redson by this point has already been shown to be incredibly intelligent and powerful. Something that gets reinforced in later seasons as well. They are well-versed in magic, magical items, and mechanics. They have the ability to teleport between realms and on the mortal plane, fire concurring, and have the fighting skills to match it. The problem is that Mei is a literal dragon and Mk (that we now know) is a powerful reality-altering monkey demon.

Then we see the behind Redson usual demeanor at the end of season 1. Redson starts to grow weary of his dad and the bones. It's right before the fight between possessed DBK and Mk that we see another trait of Redson: their total lack of self-confidence. The want to prove themselves and their worth is what I assume most of their driving force has been and still is. They just stand there as DBK berates him and is about to KO them. They think of themselves so little, that they weren't going to protect themselves from getting hit by their own father. His mother saving him provides him with evidence that their mother does care for them, and doesn't want them to get hurt giving them the confidence boost to help Mk in the fight.

We then see a shift in their character development in "Revenge of the Spider Queen". Redson at this point is still awkward and prideful, but we see that they value their family so much more. They're willing to do anything for their parents, even after being treated so poorly. During the movie they're held against their will to work alongside Mk's team, saying that he'll go on ahead implying that they still feel that they're above the team. That being said, once their father is released, they still help the team by freeing Mei of his own accord. This is the first time Redson willingly helps the team. (Side note, in the movie we also see that Redson is at least semi-comfortable with Mei's physical affection. It's in season 4 that we see that Redson is uncomfortable with Mk hugging him/being called a hero.)

In season 3, we start to see less of him, but we do see something important-- Redson is working in the food service industry. No, I'm not kidding. Recall that in the second paragraph, I stated that Redson has little interaction with the outside world, well, guess what food service provides him with? Yip. This allows them to not only get closer to their dad but to interact with other people. More so, the stand lets them learn social cues and food service skills which may explain why they start to get less awkward as the series progresses. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, please tip your waiters extra.)

Now, this is where I start to have beef with the show and Redson's development. From here on out, all of Redson's actual character development happens offscreen. There isn't an episode where we see Redson get better at communication with other people, or one where Redson and their family reconcile, we only get snippets (which makes sense because Redson isn't supposed to be a main character.) The previous paragraph is simply speculation.

Later on, we see that they willingly save Mk, Mei, and Sandy. They obviously care about them in some fashion by rescuing them and providing them with food, water, and shelter. They go out of their way (albeit begrudgingly) to bring Mk a warm glass of milk and an extra blanket and save Mei's dragon plushie to give back to her later. However, the best part of that episode is how Redson reacts to hearing about the samadhi fire.

The face that Redson makes when hearing about the fire is that of horror and fear. It's not fully clear in the episode what exactly causes the fear, but it's most likely due to the nature of the flame and Redson's inability to wield it. The telling of the story feeds into their fear of not being good enough-- of not being strong enough-- and the thought of that scares them. They already lost their father twice and doesn't want that to happen again.

At the end of season 3, we get more information on how Redson feels about the Samadhi fire. First, we see that Redson knows a lot about the flame, going on to explain what it is and their theory as to why Mei can contain it. They seem to have trained for the opportunity to wield the fire again by mediation and creating/finding a guide to how to train those who wield the flame. Mei makes a quip about how Redson's hypocritical in their teachings about being short-tempered, to which Redson seems to respond genuinely, knowing that they're still trying to work on this part of themselves. Providing another shift in how they're starting to trust Mei more. Redson's flashback to having the Samadhi fire shows they understand what it was like to have no control over themselves, to feel overrun with power and destruction and they comfort Mei in that moment. Redson acts like they want to destroy everything in their path, but they want to do so out of their own strength and free will.

At the end of the training he fully believes in Mei, but still keeps her at a distance. In the speech they give to Mei, Redson seems to give up the flame stating that the samadhi fire is Mei's power and to not give up on him. In my head, I feel like these are words that Redson wanted to hear themselves when they were under the flame's control. If Redson actually felt okay with giving up the flame is another story.

In season 4, we again see how Redson is unable to protect their family from Azure and the scroll, which feeds into their fear of not being good enough. The ending of that season shows that the families seem to be on good terms and Redson seems to be more relaxed with Mei and Mk.

Now... season 5. Back to the off-development, Redson seems way more comfortable around Mei than before. Mei seems to have found Redson's number, but Redson isn't aware of this. (I'm assuming it's kinda like how Mei put surveillance cameras on everyone without them knowing.) If Redson had been communicating with Mei outside of this, I think I would feel a bit better about how Redson and Mei were interacting with each other.

The fear of not being good enough seems to still be within them, grumbling about not gaining back the samadhi fire. Super shout out to @salemontrial who wrote about a possibility as to why Redson isn't as enthusiastic about Mei, supposedly, losing the fire. "The power came from the might of both of his parents and he wasn't strong enough to wield it... he finds out that this girl who's been ruining his plans is strong enough so he helps her, but how he knows that [it's] possible to wield. He [truly] just wasn't strong enough. So... he does his best... trying to make a version he can control." In all, the grumbling comes from their pride and the fact that one of their biggest fears has evidence.

I think why Redson doesn't immediately yell at Mei is because they know they goofed up. They might be prideful, but when alone, Redson owns up to their mistakes: the hypocrisy about being short-tempered, releasing the LBD, and now owning up to making a fire sprite.

My quam? When Redson saves Mei with the line "I can't do this alone." THIS MAN HAS YET TO LEARN ANYTHING ABOUT ASKING FOR HELP. Most other things in that episode kinda line up, but Redson has yet to have any reason to have the confidence to outright ask for help. They seem to be getting along with their family more, but the fact that they're still looking for such a devastating weapon, instead of working on their own powers, brings me to believe that Redson has not learned how to believe in themselves. I know we had about 3 episodes in season 3 to see Redson grow more comfortable with Mei and in this season we had 1, but that doesn't mean that Redson's full trust in Mei didn't feel rushed or out of character. He’s inconsistent in this season and it bothers me.

I will say, the fact that Mei invited Redson to help save the world and Redson told Mei how to communicate with him, probably means that Redson is going to become more of a main character in the upcoming season, especially since we saw them training together at the end. Maybe that will help explain why they seem so close.

[irisbleufic]

I love every bit of your writing that I've read, but I've only read a little due to sharing a whole one (1) Fandom with you. If I wanted to read more of your work without knowing the source material, would you make any recommendations? Thank you!

Good morning, anon! If I knew which single fandom we shared, I’d make the assumption that you’ve read most of my work in that one. However, because I’m not sure where you started with my work, I can’t promise I won’t accidentally rec you something you’ve already read. I apologize in advance if that happens.

The fandom most people share with me these days is either Good Omens, Gotham, or Pacific Rim, just by sheer volume of the fic I’ve written for each of those. I wrote a lot of BBC Sherlock at the time that was first popular, too.

I’m going to rely on feedback over time, as far as what to rec you that readers have told me can be approached without much familiarity of the source material. In most cases, this means some of my longer series, because there’s enough material in them to be self enclosed (i.e. most move forward from where canon stops and become their own little universe).

For stand alones that nonetheless have enough substance to be worth the effort, I’d say try these stories first:

The City of Towers (American Gods)

What You Don’t See / At this Chance (Hamlet)

Our Breath Will Still / A Short Distance Ahead (Pacific Rim 1950s AU ft. cryptids, paleontology, and the fallout from WWII)

The Space Between Love and the End of the World (Everything Is Illuminated)

For longer series that will be enough for you to get lost in for a while, I point most people to these above all else:

Anthology (Pacific Rim)

Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed (Gotham)

Playing for Keeps (Gotham)

Crown of Thorns [The Walls, the Wainscot, and the Mouse] ’Verse (Good Omens)

The latter is my life’s proudest work, as far as fandom goes. And if you’d like to try some of my published-outside-of-fandom work in poetry and prose, it’s these:

The Sting of It (poetry collection)

The Pursued and the Pursuing (Great Gatsby sequel that actually started its life as a novella on AO3)

Finally, I have a new novel that’s almost finished now that’s (mostly) unrelated to the above. I don’t know just yet where my agent will manage to sell it. I’ll give updates here as and when that occurs.

[hawkzeyes]

why is everyone against bernard being the question guy wouldn’t it bring more to berdnard anyways

Mmm there are a lot of reasons personally for me! I’m gonna go ahead and say I’m incredibly biased and DC’s recent choices have my eye twitching.

1. Renee deserves to continue as The Question. DC has done this thing again, where an effective and exciting woman hero gets shifted backwards and we just lose all character development for no reason at all. This isn’t the first time DC has done this and it certainly won’t be the last time unfortunately. I’d like to see it fixed tbh and I’d like to see her back in the mask!

2. The Question seems to get just the title of a “conspiracy theorist” which is what I see B*tfam Stans using as a reason as apparently Bernard has had this trait, but that’s a huge misconception (mostly because of JLU love it though) sure he works with conspiracies but mostly because they are linked to corruption, which is really what he actually handles most of the time. Along with Renee! He just happens to be really cryptic about it, giving him that mysterious ‘crack pot’ vibe. That’s the purpose of The Question though. To go where the person behind the mask can’t, to stop the corruption at its core.

3. The DC comic verse has done enough sacrificing other characters for the b*tfam honest to god. Ppl are getting really tired of it. There has been plenty of this talk outside of the b*tfamily circle but it’s generally missed by them because they tend to stay in their circle. Which is totally fine! That’s their space, but the rest of the families/fandoms are irked. The way multiple characters have been altered and changed just to fit along that family is A LOT in the N52/Rebirth situation. The rest of the characters in DC are not responsible for Bernard being more interesting. If writers want him to be interesting they ought to just develop him as a person? Renee doesn’t deserve to lose the mantle because y’all want Tim’s boyfriend to be a cool conspiracy guy

4. If y’all want to see this, write fanfiction about it? That’s what fanfiction is for. What I don’t want is it being pushed at DC because A LOT of writers right now are waaaay too involved in fandom spaces rn (which I find highly unprofessional. Like I’m not saying you can’t be a fan, obviously I would prefer that, but starting fights with fans, beefing over Twitter, and using your power in these comic companies to run over others opinions and or steal ideas from fans is weird) and they do take from it. T*m T*ylor.

5. I think it would actually crush me to see Renee lose the mantle because of fandom space after Vic (who is one of my favorite characters) trusted her with it. The person who has it now respects Vic and the meaning behind the mask, because that very much matters when it comes to The Question, instead of just “lol conspiracies 🤪🤪”

6. If I remember correctly isn’t Vic back confusingly? With the whole Manhattan Flashpoint mess (please don’t ask me to explain I literally never understand the flashpoint LMFAOOO) So if Renee really is done with the mask… and Vic Sage is literally right there (I think) and about a million times better than Bernard would ever be at being The Question since he is literally the original, why should he? Bernard has literally done nothing to prove he would be better than either of these characters or has really done anything to show he deserves the mantle.

[mythcaels-a]

unprompted | @attroxx asked: naruto shuffles through the snowy streets, bundled in his new hat and scarf iruka - sensei had gotten him. it's christmas eve and naruto had given everyone their gifts already . . . except sasuke. slowly but surely he makes it to sasuke's place, gripping the box tightly in hand. he stands there for some time, nerves causing him to hesitate at the door before finally knocking. finally after what feels like forever sasuke opens the door, seeming a little surprised. "merry christmas, sasuke !! " he smiles and practically shoves his way inside. shaking the snow from his blonde hair he smiles, shoving the gift at sasuke's chest. "i gave everyone else their stuff already but . . . i haven't seen you since you got back so." he murmurs sheepishly. inside the box is a winter hat, with the uchiha crest stitched out the brim of it, as well as a notebook with the uchiha crest on it as well, something sasuke can write notes in, naruto had thought. "go ahead, open em' !!" // for their blank period verses sniffles

𝐒𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 holidays alone in the past but the loneliness he feels doesn't get any better, no matter how many years pass. There's moments of him laying around staring at the ceiling, moments of him wondering what he's going to have for dinner and then there's a moment where he stares at the little gift bag in the corner of the room that he somehow ended up with to give to the blonde when he ends up seeing him.

He decides to not focus that now and instead goes to the kitchen to make some dinner. It's cold outside, hell, it's cold inside too so he decides to make tomato soup. He likes tomato soup, he likes tomatoes after all. He is just about to put it on the stove when he hears knocking at the door. He frowns and slowly makes his way to the door and swings it open, surprise flickering onto his expression at the appearance of the blonde on the other side of his door.

❝ Naruto . . . . ❞ And then the blonde is shoving his way into his home like he owns it, which has him blinking back to reality and huffing at the energy that the blonde brings. ❝ You're not supposed to just barge in someone's home, you're supposed to ask. ❞ He scolds the blonde but goes quiet when he notices the box that is being shoved at him and looks between it and Naruto. The blonde got him a gift ( too ).

He slowly opens the box and stares at the contents inside and he feels a little less alone this Christmas. He peeks up through inky locks of hair and there's a twitch of lips, a rare smile. ❝ You didn't have to get me anything but . . . Thank you. ❞ He suddenly turns and walks off, putting his gift on the little table in his living room and returning a moment later with a gift bag. It was horrendously bright orange and made his eyes burn, just as the hat, scarf and gloves inside did too with their orange and black color scheme. Yet, there were also some new kunai inside and some cup ramen in there too. He shoves the bag at the blonde and rolls his eyes.

❝ Merry Christmas, idiot. ❞ There's a rare chuckle that tumbles from lips. ❝ I'm making tomato soup if you'd like to stay. ❞ He hopes that the blonde will.

[lieutenantmongoose]

Verse Info: Muttongoose (title tba) 

bc i’m too lazy and discombobulated to fic it rn bc it’s a whole slow burn and i’m not patient like that rn, anyway

*Always Sunny Meme/Sets up Dominos* 

(spoilers ahead on the off chance i ever write this and you don’t want to know who takes a tuunbaq to the face or whatever)

It’s jopson, Jopson gets a tuunbaq to the face he’s okay he’s fine it’s a sacrifice that had to happen just hear me out i did the math it was necessary okay listen:

it starts out during Crozier’s Withdrawals. He’s almost through it but we’ve not had the Laudanum talk(tm) yet

Everyone thinks Tuunbaq is dead and the people said Thank U Mr Icemaster Blanky We Love U

Dr Macca is like Aight My Little Penguin Have U Considered,,,,,,Taking A Goddamn Break,,,,,,,and Jopson’s like Ew Why Would I Do Something So Horrible and Dr. Macca is like Lol U Don’t Understand Im Not Asking Im Telling,,,,Babygirl The Dark Circles Are Not Sexy Lmao Take A Nap :) and Jopson is like Ugh Fine Five Minutes and goes the hell outside

Due to a silly situation involving Irving and Little, Jopsauce is out on the ice when Tuunbaq, as one does, shows up 

Thing is when Tuunbaq shows up u only really gotta be faster than like one person and it is Irving’s lucky damn day

Jopson’s actually okay until he decides the most appropriate solution to being nose to nose with the world’s angriest coca cola mascot is to stab it in the face 

Tuunbaq is like U Go For The Face????? Bet

*Man of Constant Sorrow Plays On Xylophone* 

Due to the wonders of medical inaccuracy and some Fitzjames Heroism Jops is actually A-Okay after this

i mean he’s only got one functioning eye and his hearing is janked up for a few weeks but other than that it’s all good and i mean the fact that Crozier has to just about personally threaten to shoot him before he’ll accept any Agonies Mitigation Drugs isn’t ideal but it’s fine he’s fine he’s good it’s all fine

Crozier’s like Aight Jipjop You And I Are In Danger Of Becoming Morbid Let’s Go To Carnivale And Have A Good Time For Once

Nobody Has A Good Time At Carnivale 

Show mostly progresses as normal up until Terror Camp

At which point Tuunbaq to the Face Becomes Relevant bc i mean Crozier DOES still promote our boy to Lieutenant Status and does still give him a gun i mean why wouldn’t you but there’s an Incident and Crozier is like Listen Babygirl I Trust U With My Life And Everyone Else’s But We’re Gonna Let Someone Else Guard Sickfreak McStabbyface 

Which frees Jop up to have a lil run in with Mr Collins and be like 👀

Naturally Jopson is like Oh No oh Absolutely Not We’re Not Playing This Come On Mr Collins I Think You Had Better Let Doctor Goodsir Have A Look At You

Collins is copping hugs left and right he’s very giggly he’s high as a kite he’s like I Haven’t Slept In Two Weeks Lol 

Jopson’s like Dr Goodsir,,,,,,,,,,#Help

Goodsir is like Oh Dear,,,,,,,,,,Alright,,,,,I Gotchu,,,,,There There Mr Collins

Jop and Goodsir team up to help Mr Collins and it’s all very A Lot   

Bc Collins and Jop are both with Goodsir during the #Execution, when Tuunbaq shows up it obviously does not get Collins and also have you ever tried to kidnap a doctor when he’s got a flustered mongoose and a drugged squishmallow in his tent??? It’s not happening bub you might as well give up now

so the mutineers gtfo and Goodsir is still with Team Terror and now he has a new B Plot to be part of while the series progresses otherwise as normal

And the series does progress otherwise as normal except Collins is coming off the drugs and has both Jopson and Goodsir being like Here’s Some Will To Live and Collins Is Catching Feelings So Fast 

My Jop is still Aroace but he’s like Listen Being Needed Is My Drug And I’ve Been Having Withdrawals Of My Own So I AM Going To Be Weirdly Intense About This You Don’t Understand I Would Open My Veins For Captain Crozier He Wouldn’t Even Have To Ask When I Say I Would Do Literally Anything To Help You Sleep I Am So Serious I Am 8000% So Serious Rn What Do You Need Is It Me 

Goodsir and Collins are like Uh,,,,You- You Good Bro? Jop is like Hey Is That A Bird

At some point Tuunbaq shows up again because it’s sick of waiting on this damn ship to sail too and Collins is like Okay I Can Be Weirdly Intense About This Too and Jopson is like Oh. Oh.

and then Goodsir is like, yknow when he walks in on what appears to be the aftermath of a category 80 hurricane,,,,, I’m Super Quiet About It But If You Want To See Weirdly Intense I Mean,,,,, 

*coughs* they reach an Understanding

So naturally when Crozier gets kidnapped and Little is like Well UwU Everyone Says F That Let’s Go UwU Nothing To Be Done I Suppose UwU these three are like Oh Word? Are You Sure About That

yeah 

[rainsmediaradio]

Erigga - Bad Persin Lyrics

Erigga - Bad Persin Lyrics Intro Erigga paper boi Omo I no get power to argue again oh If you say white na black I no go follow you quarrel abeg Verse 1 Na who friends never show dey carry squad for head 'Cause Me na shoulder if e tire me I put am down Move ahead my blood inside your cartel Another cartel dey when fit poison your Martel To change am like bureau de change no dey hard dem dolls You forget say when sugar finish every ant dey lost Na Inside squad dem sell Jesus deny am thrice No be shoot bird mama fly u gats hold your blurkus E don tay dem see you better pass this craze don cum again Na who get money be their blood oh(I swear) No put body if dem no call you, dey respect yourself No go dey give too many Fs, some kind times dey deff the blog oh You see that time when you find make we sitdown crack gist Dey talk about “remember when” I don mathematics Dey calculate how much we fit make onto say we sharp Money go lap oko relax no forget your blood oh Chorus The day you no give them money you be bad persin They call your number you pick am you be bad persin no go dey follow dem argue oh, I be bad persin Na you good take award we don leave am for you 99 good plus one bad equals to bad persin You no dey show your people love no I be bad persin area no get memory do the one you fit do You like you kill your self them for still say u be bad persin Verse 2 Come outside fresh air blow igbo for beach They think about money brother happiness ain’t cheap No carry jump anyhow dey use your number 2 Life no be first to reach there, make billing no wonjor you Leave all those write up dem post their character too bad Their  mind set need to change nobody owe dem jack Nothing concern us we go tell you who dey fear you guy The big goat who you dey fear dey fear me die Friendship when no dey go calculator na bad friendship When no good for your inner peace any how friendship I no kwokwo be better person  no need to form Or see your call run who be blood wah you run Maybe na all backstabbing dey make my heart dey bleed All your conscience out no be say I no hear you greet It’s had to tell who really love you when you in the streets Many wan kill you finish you put you inside six feet deep Chorus The day you no give them money you be bad persin They call your number you pick am you be bad persin no go dey follow dem argue oh, I be bad persin Na dem good take award we don leave am for dem 99 good plus one bad equals to bad persin You no go show your people love no I be bad persin Area no get memory do the one you fit do You like you kill your self them for still say u be bad persin Verse 3 God no come from your villlage oga comport your self Na yaba left you dey go so,protect your mental health Make you for no craze this lifestyle fit injure you Internet no send tomorrow dem go disco you Club when you shutdown for nite dey open today Na brain be jazz man keep money 'cause tomorrow day The girls no dey go anywhere when body full u date School no be scam no mind them na just excuse to wait Wait  when u jam dem Elon musk watin una yan Okpako die butu rest, which club u wan take see am Money finish eye clear phone no dey ring again Story don spread olosho no dey pick again Life no hard all na you say you wan must rich So put in work no complain confirmations sweet Multiple streams of income alert dey ring like drum No eat future sapa fit waylaid you with gun runnnnnn Outro Erigga that one bad person When no dey pick e brother call bad persin As I no vote for ur person now I be bad persIn Na you Goood  take award we don leave am for you Read the full article

[mixedstyles]

As Long as You Are Part 5

ALaYA Masterlist | Main Masterlist | send me things!

Author's Note: Hi! The social media blurb that goes with Part 4/5 very much goes with them. You'll notice connections between comments/photos and what goes on in this part! thank you to @stellarossii (and one of my irl friends who thought I needed translations for a book) who made sure the Italian was correct. this is less of a chapter and more of a long winded headcanon!!! Please keep that in mind

Pronouns Used: She/Her (use of y/n)

POV: Third Person.

Warnings: fluff. like so much fluff. swearing, mentions of anxiety, depersonalization, time skips/writing is all over the place. This has not been proofread for mistakes

Word Count: 5770 🤪

THIS Instagram blurb goes with this chapter! :)

Harry x musician!reader: Late Night Talking

It’s safe to say Y/N did not wake up refreshed and ready to start the day, because after she collapsed in her bed she was only able to get a couple good hours of sleep. The rest of the night consisted of her tossing and turning, thinking about the day ahead of her. Which was meeting up with Harry and Mitch. Officially. Auden was going to be there but Y/N was unsure if she would randomly disappear again which made her nervous. But part of her was also happy at the idea of hanging out with Harry.  

Y/N had two options: go to the studio and be anxious there or she could stay at her apartment and be anxious in the comfort of her own home. The latter sounded the best to her. So she climbed back into bed and set a timer for 3:30 P.M. which was when she actually had to get up and get ready.

━━━━

Direct message: harrystyles

Hey! Thank you for letting us drop in on you like thatI do apologize if it wasn’t a great time to do so Honestly I was planning on just leaving and letting you know after But right when I sent the “nice show” message Auden came and grabbed us

good morning or i guess afternoon now i will be honest with you, it wasn’t the ~best~ time BUT i am really happy i got to meet you. and mitch

He wouldn’t stop talking about your guitar and overall talent I think you have a new fan And I’m really happy I got to meet you too In person You still on for later tonight?

yep! i’m just chilling right now don’t even know what i’m going to do in the studio today so… it’ll probably be boring just a heads up

I’m the one who wanted to chill at the studio with you so don’t stress I am also amazing at bugging people so I’ll keep you on your toes This sweatshirt is really comfy by the way Might have to steal the brand for my merch

i still can’t believe that you bought my merch like will THE harry styles be walking around with my sweatshirt?

I already have And I’m pretty sure there will be proof because I saw some people taking pictures outside of the gym

you’re taking a mini two day break AND YOU GO TO THE GYM??? not to be a bitch but that is NOT icon behavior that’s psycho behavior (affectionate)

I don’t know what any of that meant I’m not well versed in the social media culture

oh my goodness. “the social media culture” YOU’RE ONLY THREE YEARS OLDER THAN ME AND YOU TALK LIKE A GRANDPA am i about to give you a lesson on social media. so you can actually be cultured?

Please do. I’ll be taking notes

when someone says something that would typically be associated with negative connotations but uses affectionate in parentheses, it’s more of a compliment than an insult. or it can be used in the sense of like “but it’s still okay” i said “that’s psycho behavior (affectionate)” meaning that although you GO TO THE GYM FOR FUN, i still respect you.

So essentially you’re saying “no offense”

uhhh yeah, i guess so? But it can be used as a compliment: one man’s trash (derogatory), is another man’s trash (affectionate)

Ugh, this is why I’m never on social media. You guys give me headaches

harry, honey, whether you like it or not, you’re a social media presence

Is “honey” affectionate or derogatory in this context?

OH MY GOSH I’M DONE WITH YOU (it was used affectionately)

━━━━

Y/N was so accustomed to calling Auden “honey” that she hadn’t realized she said it to Harry until it was too late. Should I say sorry? Is he uncomfortable? What if he thinks I’m trying to hit on him? His response didn’t indicate that I had. But we won’t allow for “possibly”.

━━━━

okay i just need to make sure that you know i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything with the honey comment. auden and i call each other that all the time

No, no, no You didn’t make me uncomfortable at all!I thought it was kind of sweet Although I’m offended because I thought I got a cute little name but it turns out you also call Auden honey 🙄

oh my gosh! you used an emoji!! harry styles used an emoji!! Although I’m offended because I thought I got a cute little name but it turns out you also call Auden honey 🙄 ↳ STOP ARE YOU SERIOUS

Yeah, why not? I’ve got Y/N merch, doesn’t that come with a nickname too?

for you? sure but i’m drawing a blank you’ve put me on the spot i can call you chouchou. mon petite chouchou. sweetheart. literally means "my little cabbage". “MES CHOUX!” “MY CABBAGES”

Okay, I kind of dig it But I do not understand that reference? My cabbages?

because of that i’m just gonna call you chou now. cabbage YOU’VE NEVER SEEN AVATAR THE LAST AIRBENDER???? (animated show)

Oh! The anime? Yeah, I saw like the first season but never got farther than that

Oh! The anime? ↳ oof you say that in front of certain people and they’ll throw you off of a bridge there have been discussions over whether it’s an anime or not since it aired. in like… 2005 but you need to finish it. we should watch it!! or at least i’ll force you to watch it while i’m working in the studio

Thank you for the warning because I’d rather not be thrown off a bridge I'd love to watch AvatarStart a little studio watch party?

stop i'd love that can we please?

I mean... I am the one who suggested it

okay okay okay i have to get ready now, i shall see you shortly

━━━━

Y/N threw her phone on the bed and began to run around her apartment putting on random clothes that she knew she’d be comfortable in because she was running late. She’d like to say she didn’t realize how much time she spent talking to Harry, but she did realize. In fact, she had ignored her alarm more than once and was suffering the consequences.

She sent a text to Auden making sure that she was going to be there and wasn’t going to leave her alone with Harry and Mitch again. Auden promised Y/N that leaving her alone was not her intention. Though the following message was sent with a little winky face, which could have meant multiple things. But Y/N knew Auden. She knew Auden well. Well enough to know that it was a false promise and that she had intended to leave her alone with Harry. Auden did mention this time that she couldn’t stay into the night because she had other summer classes the next day “unlike some people”.

The subway ride to the village didn’t normally feel like a long time, but that time it did. Y/N knew the only reason that everything was taking longer was because she was in a rush. She glanced at the time on her phone, worried that Harry was going to be locked outside before she could get there. 

Which was exactly what happened. 

Sprinting as fast as she could down the street, Y/N’s book bag would bounce against her back with every stride, arms were flailing, wind was aggressively smacking her in the face, and her breathing was ragged. But she got there. Even if it was a bit later than intended. 

“Hi… I’m… sorry… for… oh boy.” She was trying to get the words out between gasps. “Oh gosh. Thanks, ugh, thanks for waiting.” Y/N rested her hands against her knees in an attempt to slow down her heart rate. 

“Geeze, what were you doing? Running all the way from your apartment?”

“No,” she said offended, “I sprinted down the sidewalk. Sorry I don’t go to the gym on my free days.” Y/N joked, moving closer to Harry, nudging his arm with hers. Which earned her a small smile. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road.”

“Wow, and just like that, she’s alive again."

“Okay this show is pretty damn good.” 

“I can’t believe you’ve only ever seen the first two episodes!”

Auden had arrived around an hour after Y/N and Harry got in, and easily made herself comfortable in the small studio space, chilling next to Harry while Y/N was over at the workstation. Once Y/N had mentioned Harry hadn’t seen most of Avatar, Auden had immediately taken out her laptop and started from the very beginning of the show. Making sure Harry was watching, adding in random anecdotes throughout. 

“Did you know that the voice actor for Aang was also Pablo from The Backyardigans?” Which Harry didn’t know, and also didn’t know what or who The Backyardigans were. Which made him lose a considerable amount of “coolness points” according to Auden. 

“I told him that he’s the cabbage man. My lil homme chou.” 

“Your little homme chou?” Auden asked, a huge smirk on her face. Luckily Harry wasn’t paying attention at that point, he was too focused on “emo boy”. The name he had given Zuko. 

“A homme chou.” 

“Hmm… I think Harry’s more of a Sokka?”

“Sokka’s pretty cool.” Harry chimed in after hearing his name.

“Right? You’re Sokka and Y/N can be Suki!” 

“Auden…” Y/N warned her friend not to go any further.

“Who’s Suki?” Harry asked.

“You’ll actually get there pretty soon. I think she makes an appearance in the first season.”

“Oh cool! I’m excited.”

Mitch was unfortunately unable to attend the little studio hangout as Sarah needed help with their baby. Something Y/N didn’t want to get in the way of. "Family comes first" was the message she had told Harry to pass along to them, which he gladly did.

“Harry, it’s been great, but I do lowkey have to go. Which means I do have to take my laptop back.” Auden stood up, cracking her back in the process before leaning in to close the Netflix tab and shutting down her laptop.

“Do I not get a say in this?” Harry asked.

“What? Get a say in me leaving or you no longer having a screen to watch Avatar on?”

“... Avatar.”

“Goodness. Do you not have your own Netflix account or something? You’re rich enough to have thousands of Netflix accounts, don’t try mooching off of me.” Auden argued back in a joking way. “Y/N, I’ll see you tomorrow, good luck working on… whatever you’ve been working on while Harry and I have been watching Avatar.” Auden walked the short distance to her friend before leaning over Y/N’s shoulder, looking at what she had been working on. “Wait,” Auden whispered, “is this the song you’ve been working on?” Y/N doesn’t do anything other than nod and continue to jot down lyrics in her notebook and move things around on her computer screen.

“I think I’m almost done with it, but I’m not really sure of the specifics. Like the instruments and closing. I think I want strings and piano and that’s it.” Y/N makes a few more marks in her notebook before fully turning her attention to Auden. “You said you were leaving?”

“Yeah, it’s getting a little late for me.”

“Okie, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N stood up to give her a hug goodbye, adding an “I love you.” before Auden disappeared out the door.

“So, is it bother Y/N o’clock?” Y/N spun around in her chair and looked over to the couch Harry was stretched out on.

“Mmm not yet, I’m in the groove and I think there’s something I want to run by you in a little bit. So you continue to watch Avatar and I’m gonna try to finish this up. Sound good?”

Harry beamed and said, “Sounds wonderful.” and pulled out his phone to start watching the show.

━━━━

Around 30 minutes in, Y/N stopped because her phone kept going off due to Instagram notifications. Though she had a fanbase, Y/N was rarely ever tagged in anything, so the fact that there were multiple notifications one after the other coming in was a confusing sight. So she opened the app and looked at what was causing all of the fuss. It turned out to be the guy next to her. Not Harry himself sending her messages, but she was being tagged in photos of him in New York, at her concert, most not even of her. 

She also noticed her follower account went up by a couple thousand. Which a month ago would have been exciting, but now it just made her anxious thinking that people were following her because she had some sort of connection to Harry Styles. She looked at the recent followers, a lot being Harry fan accounts.

“Do you think people are gonna be upset?” 

“Hmmm?” Harry mumbled before looking away from the video on his phone and toward Y/N. 

“Do you think people are gonna be upset? That like, you’re hanging out with me?” she clarified. 

“I asked to visit, I decided to come, if anything happens it’s my fault.” He answered, as if it was common knowledge.

“Everyone is either talking about or asking how we know each other. I’m not sure what the deal is.” Y/N held up her phone and pointed to one of the photos she was tagged in. A photo of Harry, not her. 

He laughed a little and smirked before saying, “You’re not used to this sort of publicity, are you?”

“Harry, I literally write music from my single bedroom apartment. The most media attention I’ve gotten is when a sample I posted on TikTok went viral. So no, I am most definitely not used to this sort of attention.”

“That’s valid, but let them talk. Just tell me if they start hounding you though, I don’t want that happening. Okay?” Y/N nodded and smiled, a smile which Harry returned. “So… should we stop goofing around now? I wanted to ask you about that song you showed me earlier.”

The last time Y/N checked the clock on her phone it read: 9:47 P.M. which was right when they started to work on the song. However the next thing she knew it was past midnight.

“Holy shit. Harry, it’s fucking 1 A.M.” 

“Wait what?”

“It’s 1 A.M.” she repeated. 

“We really got in the groove didn’t we.” Which was less of a question and more of a statement as it was very clear they did ‘get in the groove‘. “Are there any 24/7 food locations near here?” Harry questioned, standing from his chair and stretching in the process. “I haven’t eaten anything in a while.”

“It’s New York City, of course there are 24/7 diners. But, I can take you to one of the best 24/7 bodegas close to here. Plus, I haven’t seen Tony in a hot minute.” 

“Tony?”

“I’ll tell you on the way there. Do you have cash with you?”

“What? No, why?” Harry asked, confused at her sudden excitement.

“Geeze,” Y/N said, rolling her eyes before getting out her wallet and smacking a $5 bill into his chest. “I thought famous rich people always carried around wads of cash with them” Y/N’s hand was still holding the money to Harry’s chest, waiting for him to take it. Which he didn’t. “Harry, take the money, there’s a card minimum at most bodegas, you’ll need cash.” she explained.

“Hmph,” he grumbled, taking the money from her hand.

“Thank you, now let’s go.” she said, dragging him by the sleeve out of the studio.

On the way over, Y/N explained that the bodega they were going to was called Colucci’s Deli and Grocery, but the “locals” (mostly students) just called it Tony’s. Antonio Colucci, Y/N described, was an old time worn Italian immigrant who was always making jokes and chatting with anyone, and everyone, who walked through the doors. He had unofficially become the grandfather to the NYU students who passed by, making sure they were okay, asking them about their classes, about their life, about their families. “It might seem funny, okay? But he truly cares about us”. She explained further that he let his favorites (making it clear that she was one of them) have packages delivered to the store for safekeeping, and even knew what frequent customers got to eat. And before he cou deven ask any question they were already at the store. Y/N quickly walked ahead of Harry and opened the door which let out a faint ring as she stepped through the threshold.

“Tony?” Y/N shouted immediately, as if barging into a bodega at 1 A.M. was a common occurrence for her.

“Y/N, stop, people are going to–” and before Harry could even finish his sentence, a deep Italian accented voice replied to her yell.

“Is that my Y/N L/N?” from the back room stepped a man exactly like Y/N described. He was on the shorter side with deeply tanned skin, a small grey mustache above his lip, and matching grey hair on his head. He was wearing an apron that Harry assumed was once white but was now covered in a smattering of different colored stains. 

Tony moved out from behind the counter, shuffling as quickly as his old age could carry him before stopping in front of Y/N. He rested his hands on her shoulders and smiled as if he really was her grandfather. One who hadn’t seen his granddaughter in far too long. The creases at the corners of his eyes became more prominent, making it clear that his happiness was indeed genuine.

“Le cose belle arrivano quando non le cerchi,” —the beautiful things that come when you don’t look for them— “and I was not looking. Because she came through that door and I didn’t even see.” Tony said, glancing at Harry, then to Y/N, then back at Harry, smiling like he knew something they didn’t. But Y/N knew what he was implying.

“Basta, basta” —stop, stop— “about both things, Tony.” Y/N laughed. “You’re too kind to me. And we’re not together. This is Harry, he’s just a friend who was nice enough to visit me.” she patted Harry on his arm.

“Vedremo…” —we’ll see— Antonio looked at Harry once more before turning his attention back to Y/N. “So, why are you here so late? More music?”

“Isn’t it always? We got a little carried away and didn’t realize the time. We’re here for some food and then we’ll get out of your hair.” Y/N smiled at the old man who waved his hands frantically as if she had said something ridiculous. 

“No, no, no. You never bother. Mi piace vederti,” —I enjoy seeing you— Tony leaned closer to Y/N and whispered, “don’t tell anyone, but you’re my favorite. La mia bellissima nipote.” —my beautiful granddaughter— a wide smile covered Y/N’s face and she looked back at Harry as if to say “I told you so”. 

And she was right. Not that Harry would have said it to her face, but he initially thought that she was exaggerating how much Tony cared for those who passed through his store. But from the time Harry spent in Italy he understood what was being said, and there was no doubt in his mind that Tony saw Y/N as a granddaughter.

When she turned back to continue talking to Tony, Harry realized that he hadn’t witnessed an interaction like that in far too long. At least one he was lucky to be a part of. And it made him so glad he stayed a couple extra days. 

The casualness of everything Y/N did, the subtle comfort in her demeanor that made everyone enjoy her presence, and the fact that she was straight-up kind. Y/N didn’t say anything more than his name to Tony, she didn’t post about him, she didn’t ask for anything. She was normal and she was nice and she was something Harry didn’t realize he was longing for until it was right there, she was right there. Harry didn’t know what kind of longing it was, whether platonic or something more, it didn’t matter. What he did know was he did not want to lose whatever kind of relationship was being built there, in that moment, in that bodega with the small Italian grandpa and the girl who shoved a five dollar bill into Harry’s chest. 

“Harry?” a small voice pulled him away from his thoughts.

“Hmm?” he looked over to where Y/N stood, she had moved over to the counter which Tony was then behind. 

“I already ordered mine, what would you like?” Harry drifted closer to Y/N, and took a peek at the sandwich in her hand.

“Whatever you’re having looks good.” 

Y/N nodded and smiled before saying, “He’ll have The Classic!”

After Tony finished making their sandwiches and said their goodbyes, Harry noticed that there were a few other late-night shoppers in the store with them; something he hadn’t noticed before as he was too entertained by the interactions between Y/N and Tony.

“So,” Harry started, “you speak Italian?”

“Mmm… sure, we’ll say I do.”

Harry chuckled, “that’s kind of cryptic.” 

“Well maybe it’s so you’ll never know how much Italian I understand. You speak Italian right? Like you were there for a while?” Harry nodded in response. “Maybe I’m not telling you how much I understand so if you think I know less than I actually do and you shit-talk me to someone in Italian, I’ll know what you said.” After she finished her dramatics, Y/N turned to Harry, walking backwards to face him and smirked.

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“And yet,” she said, “you’re here with me.” 

And frankly, Harry didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Should we do this again tomorrow?” Harry asked, as if they didn’t have plans to do the same thing again.

“I like the sound of that.” Y/N said, going along with the joke. 

“Do you want me to walk you back?” Harry asked and Y/N’s heart melted. 

“I’ll be okay, it’s a subway ride away and then you’d have to go back to wherever you’re staying. I don’t want to do that to you.” 

“Well I have a car picking me up—”

“Oh he’s Mr. Fancy,” Y/N cut in and Harry glared at her before smiling.

“As I was saying, there’s a car picking me up to bring me back to the hotel we’re staying at. I’m more than happy to bring you back to your apartment. I just want to make sure you arrive safely.”

“Are you insisting?” she asked.

“If I insist, is that the only way that you’re going to go?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then yes, I am insisting you let me take you back home.” as much as Harry wanted to stay up with Y/N, he knew they both needed sleep and he’d see her again anyway. He wouldn’t say it, because he didn’t want to seem creepy, but he wanted to spend as much time getting to know her in person as he could. He’d be away for a while and the only time he knew he would be back in New York wasn’t for a while.

“Then let’s go, homme chou.”

That night Y/N went to bed with a huge smile on her face, and nothing was able to wipe it away.

The night passed quickly, too quickly for Y/N’s liking, but it meant that it was Monday. And Monday meant teaching, and on this particular Monday it also meant hanging out with Harry again. 

Teaching went by quickly and smoothly, although this time Auden would look at Y/N and wiggle her eyebrows and point to her phone. Which was Auden clearly trying to distract Y/N with the fact they were seeing Harry two days in a row.

━━━━

Direct Message: harrystyles

Hey, I'm stopping by one of those cold pressed juice places. Did you or Auden want anything?

i'll take one whatever you're having :) auden said "as much as I’d love for Harry Styles to hand deliver a drink to me, a cold pressed green drink is not one that I want” so that sounds like a no from her is mitch coming this time?

Wow, there really is no love for me is there? I text you to see if you want a drink and all I get back is "Is MItcH CoMiNG?" Really feeling the love Y/N And no he's not, the baby is sick

did you just do the spongebob mocking meme at me??? noooo not the little jones-rowland baby

So what if I did?

you didn't know (affectionate) but you know that spongebob meme? who ARE you? and what did you do to the cabbage man?

I looked up memes when I got back to the hotel, okay?? Most of the articles were like "memes your kids are probably referencing" and "how to keep up with gen-z references"

STOP THAT IS THE FUNNIEST SHIT I'VE EVER READ "Breaking News: Harry Styles Does Research on Gen-Z Memes" "i'm sorry but the old harry can't come to the phone right now. why? oh, 'cause he's dead" I CAN'T stop this is amazing

Are you judging me??? I will spit in your green drink

ew ew ew okay never mind proud of you for doing your "history of memes" homework does this mean i can stop explaining viral videos and trends to you? old man.

... ...

harry? wow, he's so old he might have just collapsed and passed away on the sidewalk

So impatient Goodness old man. ↳ I am only three years older than you. If I'm old you're also old I'm here by the way You have two minutes to get down here before I actually spit in your drink

🏃🏻‍♀️💨

━━━━

Even though Auden said she didn't want a green drink she continued asking for a sip of Y/N's until she caved just so her friend would shut up. If Y/N had to explain how Auden's taste test went, she'd just open YouTube and search Brittany Broski's kombucha reaction. Because that was exactly how Auden reacted to the juice. And then she collected all of her things and ran off to the bathroom, texting Y/N to tell Harry she had to go meet up with some classmates for a project. And to NOT mention that the green drink didn’t sit well with her.

It had been around 15 minutes since Auden left and Y/N was silent, the green drink long finished and as was her ability to focus on the song in front of her. She was moving the dials up and down on the workstation absentmindedly, too focused on thinking about how much her life had changed in so little time.

Y/N was silent once again, she moved the dials up and down on the workstation, not paying attention to what she was doing, “Do you ever feel that like, you’re not really there?” she asked. 

Harry’s soft strumming of Y/N’s guitar suddenly stopped and a voice cut through the momentary silence, “What do you mean?” 

“Like, you’re living your life, right? But you’re also barely there?”

“Explain.”

“No, sorry. I don’t want to get all personal or anything, that’s not what you came here for. So, what I like to do for the melody is add in—”

“No,” he cut off, “I’m interested in what you were saying.”

“You sure?

“Of course, go on.”

“Okay… So like, sometimes it happens on stage, where you’re just not really knowing what’s happening. And the only reason you’re able to finish a show is because it’s become muscle memory? Or there are conversations you can’t remember, because… when you were having them, your mind was, I guess, just trying to make it to the next sentence. Just trying to carry on without anyone noticing how you’re attempting to pull off “fine”. And maybe it’s believable, but if it’s not… I guess it’s more fun for people to ignore it. I guess you’re more enjoyable when you laugh a lot. Even if it’s not real.”

“Woah…”

“Ugh, I’m so sorry,” Y/N put her hands out in front of her and waved them, like doing so could rewind time and take back the last minute. “I was just starting to feel that way. And sometimes, I guess, it helps to talk about it?” Harry sat there, listening, not wanting to interrupt her rambling, “Normally I talk to Auden, but she’s not here and I didn’t want to seem rude to just step out and call her. This whole experience is just so… it’s so weird to me. You’re this incredibly famous musician, and I can’t believe you’re here. Like, in front of me. A literal… arms length away.” Y/N finished. She sunk into her chair and spun away from him, hands covering her face.

“Thank you.” Harry responded. He moved closer and stretched his arms towards Y/N. He then took the side of her chair and rotated it so she’s facing him again. 

Opening her hands to peek through Y/N asked, “What?” 

“Thank you for sharing that. I’m not sure I totally understand what that feels like, but some of it I could definitely relate to.”

“Oh…”

“If we’re getting personal, thank you for treating me like a regular person. I know that might be cliché, but sometimes it’s hard to meet new people who actually talk to you like you’re a friend or someone new they were just introduced to. There’s none of that awkwardness… of them feeling they have to put on a façade in order to seem “cooler” or as if they’re trying to get on your good side.

“Like, I’m just some random guy who got famous, sometimes I’m not even sure I deserve it. It’s hard sometimes, being able to like, connect with others. I dunno if they’re going to go tell my secrets if I get close to them or just use me. Which I know is kind of shitty to think. I dunno…” he trailed off. 

“Is it my turn to say thank you now? Are we in a group therapy session?”

“Oh shut up,” he laughed, “you’re the one who started it.”

“I’m just saying!” she threw her hands in the air signaling her surrender. Y/N leaned back in her chair, and spoke again, “But I actually mean it, thank you for sharing. Also, that wasn’t very kind to yourself Mr ‘you deserve the space you’ve created in this industry’ was it?” Y/N narrowed her eyes, looking at Harry in mock irritation.

“You can’t use my words against me!”

“Says who? The referees of rebuttals?”

“I dunno… I’m sure there’s an instruction manual somewhere that talks about arguments between friends.” Harry said, pulling out his phone to see if there was such a thing. 

“Wait… are we friends?” Y/N sat up straighter in her chair, a huge smile taking over her face. 

Harry turned his attention to the girl in front of him before he spoke, “I thought that was clear when I continued to talk to you for the past like, two weeks and then followed you to a random 24/7 bodega at 1 A.M.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” She asked incredulously, voice raising. “You never said anything!”

“Well I just assumed!” He said laughing, his voice level matching hers. “Do you normally take people who aren’t your friends to random-ass bodegas?”

“Well… no, but—”

“See!” Harry pointed out.

“And Tony’s is not a random-ass bodega,” she shouted. 

“Oh my goodness.” Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of everything. “I’m kind of sad that I have to leave.” Harry finally admitted out loud.

“Really?” Y/N’s heart rate began to pick up.

“Yeah, I’ve had a wonderful time. This has truly been entertaining and an overall great experience. I’ll have to bug you whenever I’m back in New York.” Harry looked at Y/N. Actually looked at her this time. Taking in her features, her eye color, the way her hair was styled and the other minute details that made her, her.

“Well, you can bother me whenever. You don’t have to limit your presence to just NYC.” Her heart rate wasn’t slowing down, if anything it was speeding up.

He was right there. So close. His hand was still near the arm rest and if she spun her chair just a bit more to the right her knee would bump into his. But she didn’t want to move, she wasn’t sure what she was feeling or if he was thinking the same things. Frankly, she wasn’t sure what she was thinking. Was she starting to have feelings for him? No, that couldn’t be. She was herself and he was Harry. And even if he did feel whatever she was feeling, he was going back to the UK and would be there for a while. They would only have a phone to connect them.

“Hey?” Y/N’s vision came back into focus and she noticed she was looking past him at the wall instead. “You okay?” all she did was nod, which was apparently unconvincing as he asked a follow up question, “What’s going through your head?”

“I dunno,” Y/N deflated and put her face in her hands, steadying her elbows on her knees. “This whole thing has been so weird. You’re going back to the UK and I feel, I guess, guilty for wanting you to stay longer?” a hand rested against her back, gently pulling her forward until her forehead rested on Harry’s chest, his hand carefully making comforting circular motions as if to say “it’s okay”.

Harry rested his head against the top of hers, mumbling, “I wish I could stay longer too. But when I come back we’ll record that song, okay?” just loud enough for her to hear it.

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to drive you back to your apartment again?”

“Can we just stay like this for a moment? I think I’m too comfortable to get out of this position.” A laugh reverberated through Harry’s chest, which was an answer in and of itself.

━━━━

If you got this far, that last conversation was HEAVILY inspired by GIA Margaret’s song ‘barely there’. I took her lyrics and mixed them in with that conversation which will make sense later down the line. I am not claiming that as my own.

tag list: @theekyliepage @tati813 @reveriehs @thomaslefteyebrow @mxltifxnd0m (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!)

[biblicalfeminism]

Suitable for him?

"Then the Lord God said, it is not good for the man to be alone; I will make a helper suitable for him." Genesis 2:18 (NIV)

"But for Adam no suitable helper was found." Genesis 2:20 (NIV)

I've hesitated to write this post for awhile now because, frankly, I felt unqualified to do so. I knew it was going to be Hebrew-heavy, and that scared me because I don't speak or read Hebrew. I am not an accredited scholar, pastor or teacher.

However.

The meaning of the word 'suitable', and especially 'suitable for him' is important to our examination of Eve. Eve represents all of womanhood, and her 'suitability' to Adam is key to that. Men have interpreted too many verses of the Hebrew Bible to be favorable to them to go unchallenged any longer. So with my limited understanding, I'm going to forge ahead and talk a little bit about this verse.

Now the Hebrew word used here is kenegedo. It is a form of the word neged, which is used as a preposition, as in the verses below. Neged is used 52 times in the Hebrew Bible in its basic form, which gives us a pretty good idea of what it meant in the text.  It usually means 'before', in the sense of 'in front of' -- some texts say 'opposite', which in prepositional terms means the same thing.

"But if you find anyone who has your gods, he shall not live. In the presence of our relatives, see for yourself whether there is anything of yours here with me; and if so, take it." Genesis 31:32 (NIV), emphasis added.

"After they set out from Rephidim, they entered the desert of Sinai, and Israel camped there in the desert in front of the mountain." Exodus 19:2 (NIV), emphasis added

But kenegedo has two important differences from its root form; there is a prefix and a suffix attached there, as we can clearly see, and those suffixes can utterly change the meaning of the word. This is where I run into trouble, because I cannot read the Hebrew letters and understand how they change the word itself. The verses I just quoted use only neged, the basic form, and there are no other uses of kenegedo outside of Genesis 2 for us to compare against.

So we're going to try to suss out what those additions mean. I'm doing this simply by typing in search terms like 'Hebrew prefixes'. Once I got a handle on which character was the right one, I could go and look for information about what it meant. Very scientific, I know. But I cannot understate the importance of women trying to look for answers for themselves, rather than just blindly accepting what they're told. You don't have to be a scholar to ask questions -- you just have to be ready to be critical of your own answers! I tend to get help from websites like Biblehub and Understanding Hebrew, too.

A look at the word written in Hebrew shows us that the prefix used is kaf, which looks a little like a backwards C (bear in mind that Hebrew is written right to left, so the kaf is the last letter on the right). It also has a dot, or dagesh, in it, which changes the pronunciation of the character but not it's meaning. A little searching can tell us that kaf is means 'like, as', in the sense of being similar to something else.  

So far so good. Now we turn to searching for the suffix. This is called holem, and it is a pronoun indicating male (obviously indicating Adam in this case). In its most basic form it just looks like a line, though sometimes it has dots too. While the kaf is only added to neged these two times in the Hebrew Bible, there are 15 other uses of neged with the male suffix added -- these terms, like minnegedo or lenegedo or just negedo with no prefix, change the meaning of the word to mean 'in front of him' -- their prefixes obviously change their meaning, too, but I'm not getting into them here. Suffice it to say, this suffix means 'of him.'

So put it all together and we have ke-neged-o, meaning 'like as in front of him.' Kaf tells us that woman is to be like something, neged tells us that she was designed alongside that something, and the male pronoun tells us what that something is: mankind, represented here by Adam. Thus (if my Hebrew is correct, and I acknowledge that it may not be), the description of Eve as kenegedo emphasizes her similarity to man, their oneness and their sameness under God at creation.

Previously, I wrote a post about Eve being described as an ezer, a word that compared her to God. Now we see that God has also likened her to man. Could there be any doubt left that woman was made in the image of of God, that she is equal to man, that women are the same in God's eyes as men? Contrary to what some early church fathers and medieval theologians say, women are a glorious gift and an equal partner in humanity. The creation account underscores this by reminding us repeatedly that Eve is made from Adam's flesh, and then ends the chapter by making Adam acknowledge it, joyfully (Gen 2:21-24).

With this in mind, is 'helper suitable for him' really the best translation of ezer kenegedo? There is nothing in the Hebrew to suggest the 'for' that the NIV sneakily put in. I have four translations in front of me: NIV, NLT, and ESV all use the phrase use 'for him' -- only the NKJV says 'to him' rather than 'for him' (though the ESV grudgingly offers that it might be translated  'corresponding to him' in a footnote). But Eve was not made 'for' Adam. To get at the real meaning of the words, we might better translate God's speech in 2:18 as something like the following:

"I will make a rescuer similar to him."  

"I will make a mighty helper that is the same species as he is."

"I will make a savior, alike to him."

Imagine how different a young girl's Christian upbringing might be if she knew the real meaning of these words. Women aren't made 'for men', we were made with men, alongside men. That's the meaning of kenegedo.

View this post on my blog at https://biblicalfeminismforwomen.blogspot.com/2022/09/suitable-for-him.html

[virtie333]

WIP Wednesday

Well, seeing as My Best Friend's Weddings only has two chapters left, you can bet I won't be posting any more teasers from it. Which means I get to introduce you to my current WIP! It's not even close to being done, yet, and those of you who read my stuff know that I never start posting until the story is complete. However, I feel the need to let you know what's coming up next, and maybe it will give me the boost I need to get cracking on it! Truthfully, I think once Weddings is done, I'll be able to focus on it better.

This one is set in the canon-verse, but unlike my previous series, it will diverge from canon fairly quickly. After the sequel movies were completed, I was content to write what I though could happen afterwards. I never strayed into the 'what if' territory. But now that we've traveled some distance from the movies, and because in the last two years I've become more and more consumed with the Damerey ship, I'm ready to delve into the mess of canonical fantasy.

This one takes place in between The Last Jedi and The Rise of Skywalker, and it asks a simple question: What if Rey and Poe became lovers? Let's find out in Kinetic!

It all happened so fast.

One minute, they were bickering, like usual. The next moment, as soon as Poe reverted back to real space, the insanity began.

Rey was sitting in the gunner seat of the ancient ARC-170 Starfighter while Poe was piloting, and she couldn’t see ahead of them as easily as he could, but while the planet Soelea was clearly visible, so was the First Order Light Cruiser. And the four TIE Fighters that immediately began rushing toward them. They showed up on her HUD within seconds, and Rey scrambled to find the weapon controls in the unfamiliar ship.

“Uhm, Poe?”

“I know! I know!” He swung the old starfighter around in a big sweeping turn. “Are your weapons good?”

“Yes,” she said through clenched teeth. “I told you we shouldn’t jump directly to the planet. We should have reverted outside the system.”

“Intel did not have any First Order ships anywhere near here!” Poe argued.

“Well, they probably got the same information about the A-wings we did and just showed up!” Rey countered.

“Are you good to fire?” Poe growled. She could almost feel the anger and adrenaline pouring off of him.

“Yes!”

He pulled the ship around, this time in a tighter turn than before, and suddenly they were facing the TIEs again. Rey didn’t hesitate and opened fire. The TIEs followed suit, but two of them exploded before any of their bolts even came close. Poe jerked the fighter upward almost ninety degrees and Rey was thrown back in her seat as the inertial dampers worked to compensate for the sharp move. The TIEs separated, one of them following them up, the other going ‘under’ them.

Poe did a loop, pushing the old fighter so hard Rey swore she could hear it groan, and soon the one that had gone ‘under’ them was in front of them. Without waiting, Rey fired, and the TIE and its pilot became space dust.

The fighter jerked suddenly, and Rey knew the last TIE had finally found its opening. “Kriffin’ hell!” Poe hissed. Alarms sounded all throughout the ship and Rey glanced around, trying to see if there was anything she could do to fix whatever had been damaged. Though the armor on these old birds was strong, this particular bird was almost fifty standard years old. “I know I said I missed BB-8 earlier,” Poe shouted. “But now I really miss him!”

BB-8 had been on a fact-finding mission with Finn and Beau Kin when the intel about the A-wings had arrived. Leia knew Poe would have to go, and she would have preferred sending Finn and BB with him to Soelea, but she didn’t want to wait for them to come back, so she had grudgingly sent Rey. Rey had been excited by the prospect of leaving their temporary base on Umbara for an actual mission, but Poe had been more than a little grumbly about the whole affair.

“Hang on!” Poe yelled over his shoulder, then Rey felt her body fall forward against the harness as he essentially slammed on the ‘brakes.’ The TIE rushed past them, barely missing them. Rey huffed out a breath as she straightened in her seat, aimed, and fired. Poe didn’t miss a beat as the TIE disappeared, diving for the planet, away from the cruiser and the possibility of more pursuit. The alarms continued to shriek throughout the cockpit.

“What’s wrong with it?” Rey shouted, unable to tell what systems were affected from the gunner’s seat. “Will you be able to land?”

“Land?” Poe asked, his voice sounding a bit higher than normal. She noticed that happened when he was stressed or angry. “Uh… yeah, I can land it. Not sure it’s going to be very pretty, though.”

“So, we’re crashing, is what you’re saying?” Rey challenged. She heard the whine of the engine as they dropped closer to the planet.

“Well,” Poe responded, his voice more conversational now. “I’m crashing. You’re ejecting as soon as we get into atmo.”

“Wait! What?” Rey looked around the cockpit desperately. “No! You are not ejecting me!”

“Yes, I am!” he argued. “Get your oxygen on now, just in case I misjudge.”

“Poe! No!” Rey was panicked now. If he ejected her but not himself… “Only if you follow me and don’t try to land this thing!”

“We need as much of it intact as possible, Rey,” he told her, his voice still calm. “The parts may come in handy if we find those A-wings.”

“How are we going to find those A-wings if you’re dead?” Rey snapped.

“Rey! Oxygen! Now!” His voice was harsh now. “That’s an order!”

Grimacing, Rey pulled out the mask and turned on the oxygen unit on her chest. As she attached the mask to her helmet, she grumbled, “You’re not my superior, Dameron.”

She heard him laugh. “See you on the flip side, Sunshine!”

[dogbearinggifts]

What are your thoughts on tua S2? Did you feel like the characters grew? What did you like? What did you not? I’m interested in your perspective. Your analysis are super thoughtful and interesting!

Aw, thanks, Anon!

Overall, I really enjoyed S2 and thought it was a solid follow-up to S1. I do have my quibbles about it, so I think (for ease of reference and because my thoughts are a little scattered today) I’ll list some of my personal highlights (in no particular order) before getting into what I didn’t like as much.

Big spoilers ahead.

Allison. I thought they handled her storyline especially well. Of all the siblings, I think she had the most difficult obstacles placed in her way (not only is she a Black woman landing in 1961 Dallas, but she’s a Black woman landing in 1961 Dallas who can’t even speak in her own defense for a year) and they sugarcoated exactly none of it. The writers pulled no punches when showing what civil rights protesters went through, which just made their nonviolent response all the more breathtaking. Allison’s fear and anger during those scenes were palpable even as she kept them hidden. But along with that horror, we see the kindness and warmth of the Dallas Black community, the women who take her in simply because she needs their help, and her love for Ray, perhaps heretofore THE most thoughtful husband ever portrayed on screen. I loved him, and I loved him and Allison together. While I understand and respect his choice to stay in 1963, I wish they’d gotten more time together. They both deserved it.

Vanya. We got to see how much the baggage from her past affected her by glimpsing what she might be like if it were taken away. It’s an interesting philosophical question, and it was explored well, in my opinion. She finds it easier to love and be loved, and she stands up for herself more readily—but she also doesn’t hesitate to use powers she can’t quite control and threatens Five without fully realizing how dire her threat is (or how it might dredge up traumatic memories she doesn’t know exist). The moment where Ben finds her curled up, fully convinced she’s a monster, was heartbreaking. I loved watching her find happiness with Sissy, even if that was fleeting (and dear god, Sissy deserved her happy ending with Vanya, dammit, I don’t care if it would fuck up the timeline). Her patience and sweetness with Harlan were just beautiful. And the way she used the confidence she gained during her amnesia to fully come into her own not to exact revenge on her siblings, but to save them, was fucking phenomenal.

The humor. There was a lot more humor this season, and it was awesome. So many iconic scenes—Olga Foroga, Luther babysitting two homicidal Fives, Elliot awkwardly lecturing his guests on the history of Jello, “NEW TIMELINE NEW ME,” “Your vagina needs glasses,” AJ the fish gobbling up the cigarette bubbles, Five getting to say “fuck”….this season was a lot funnier than the previous one, and I think that was one of its strengths.

Klaus’ cult. It was played for laughs, which I both expected and thought was the best way to handle it. He didn’t want to start a new religion with himself at the center; he just wanted to not get thrown out of any more diners, but Destiny’s Children had other ideas. The “I too am a fraud!” scene was hilarious and tickled the question of whether or not a religion founded on false pretenses can still help those within it find meaning.

Luther. Getting him away from his dad, his siblings, and the Academy was exactly what he needed to become the pure of heart and dumb of ass genius we always knew he was, but his first major step in that direction was heartbreaking. We all knew he’d be rejected once he got to the Academy. We all knew Reginald would rip his heart out and stomp on it in his admittedly fashionable shoes. It gets Luther out on his own and forces him to become his own person apart from his dad, but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch. He got the positive character development he needed, but the catalyst was tragic.

Diego. We see, for the first time, exactly how Reginald kept him in line—not with meds or with PTSD-inducing torture, but with words. Even when he knows Diego as little more than a stranger, Reginald is able to rip off his skin and fling it in his face with a single diatribe; and even at 30, with years away from his dad, Diego is left unable to speak, feeling as if all of his accomplishments up to that point were the work of a dumb kid who thought he was smarter and more capable than he actually was.

Luther and Diego sharing a braincell. Luther has bad ideas. Diego has bad ideas. When they put their bad ideas together, they get terrible ideas. I loved watching them work together as a team, rather than being at each others’ throats for most of the season, even if I’m left hoping Olga Foroga had a pleasant and quiet day after that phone call.

Reginald. At first glance, it may look like the writers were trying to make him likable so they could parade him around as your average abusive-parent-with-a-soft-side. But it’s more nuanced than that. Abusive parents (and abusers in general) often fly under the radar because they fool outsiders into thinking they’re good people. They’re active in their communities. They give to charity. They have friends who attest to their virtue, significant others who think they’re the greatest. And that’s what we see with Reginald. We see him as the rest of the world did: an intelligent, eccentric man with a sharp sense of humor who cared deeply about scientific advancement. That’s how he evaded suspicion—because there were stories from years past of lively parties at his mansion, of what a gentleman he was to Grace and of how he did everything he could to save little Pogo. But those stories would all have come from people he considered his equals. When he’s with people he considers his inferiors—aka, the Umbrella kids—he’s openly condescending and demeaning. We get to see how he fooled the world, and it is chilling.

Elliot. He deserved better, and you can ship him with any one of the Hargreeves kids and get the cutest thing ever. 

The Swedes. They said so much while speaking very little.

Ben. He got more personality and screen time, and it was glorious. His love of his family and resentment toward Klaus practically leapt off the screen. The way he says “I’ve missed you all…so much” once they’ve all left was one of those right-in-the-feels moments; and watching him get so much of what he’s wanted for years when he possesses Klaus was beautiful.

Now, as for things I took issue with….

Ben. I understand why they ended his arc the way they did. I get that they were probably afraid the Klaus/Ben dynamic would grow stale if they didn’t change it somehow and wanted to give him a larger role in S3. His death(???) was heartbreaking and extremely well-done. But it also wasn’t foreshadowed. We never got any sense of what ghosts in the TUA ‘verse are, so the fact they can be destroyed by a ton of sound-turned-energy or by going too far into someone’s psyche or whatever happened….it’s not that it doesn’t make sense so much as there’s not enough evidence to determine whether or not it makes sense. It feels like the writers just kinda made that up so they’d have a reason to change Ben’s relationship dynamics, but if that’s the case, couldn’t they have done it another way? Couldn’t they have made it so the immense energy or psychic woo-woo or whatever gave him a power-up instead of destroying him? Vanya transferred some of her energy into Harlan and brought him back to life. Couldn’t something similar have happened with Ben? And if it tied him to Vanya as well as to Klaus, great! More fodder for angst and humor! (”Vannyyyyyyyy, stop hogging Ben!” “You got him for 17 years, Klaus, you can part with him for 20 minutes.” “Guys, don’t I get a say in this?”) I’m glad they didn’t write him out of the series entirely, but I still wish they’d kept him and all the character development he’d gotten throughout S2.

Episode 10. It looks like they tried to cram half a season’s worth of developments into 45 minutes. Twenty minutes in, I’d already said “Wait what the fuck” half a dozen times. A lot of those moments were explained later on, and I was able to make enough inferences to fill in any lingering plot holes, but…still. Too much stuff, too little time. E9 was a perfectly satisfying ending to the season. Yes, it leaves the siblings stranded in 1963, but they could’ve tied up those loose ends in the S3 premiere.

Lila. She’s an incredibly fun character, but her arc is kind of a mess. Most of that is due to E10, and I do feel that more time to let her arc breathe would’ve worked wonders, but I’m left feeling like her turn from “Handler is the best mom ever and I lurve Diego too” to “KILL DIEGO AND HIS EVIL FAMILY” to “Handler is a bad mom and Diego is right” happened too quickly.

The Commission. Okay, so, the Handler announces the entire Board has been killed, and she’s stepping in as director even though everyone appears to know she’s been demoted (and demoted pretty severely—she went from having an office bigger than some apartments to being a case management drone). There’s suspicion and lots of it. But then, La Resistance is….ten or so people in a single room? And when she calls the temps agents to her side, thousands of them show up ready and willing to fight and die? I dunno. Just seems like there should’ve been more splintering going on there. Again, I think they needed more time to tie everything up.

Aside from those complaints, I loved the season. I set aside most of a day to binge it, and I do not regret that decision at all.

[betweenthetimeandsound]

Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (#29)

#29: Ofra Haza -- Hi (Israel 1983)

“שמעו, אחיי, אני עוד חי ושתי עיניי עוד נישאות לאור רבים חוחיי, אך גם פרחיי ולפניי שנים רבות מספור”

“Listen, my brothers, I’m still alive And both my eyes still look into the light Many are my thorns, but also my flowers And I have countless years ahead of me”

Like with Kan (#31), Hi might be seen in bad taste if it was released today. However, unlike the former, Hi firmly celebrates the Jewish people's survival, and it's in more than just the vivacious and hopeful lyrics.

For the contest in Munich, where a lot of events relating to Nazi Germany occurred (the Beer Hall Putsch, the first concentration camp in Dachau just outside the city, the Munich Agreement of 1938), Ofra Haza and her backing vocalists strolled on stage and happily exclaimed that they were still alive despite all the bad the world has done with them. You wouldn't tell with the minor-key composition--the Israeli national anthem also has this combination--so you could hint at the pain hidden through the song.

Though already brazen in the studio cut, the orchestral version just amplifies it, from the brass to the string section. This happens through a lot of the 1983 songs (including #246 and #97 on this countdown, for example), but for Hi, it adds the sprinkles to a beautiful honey cake. The piano intro is emphasized a lot, followed by the verses, in which it keeps up the momentum. When it gets to the chorus, it just brings Hi to life! You could hear the musical punch it gives, especially compared to the studio cut.

And of course, Ofra's vocals gently carry the song, albeit with a certain bite. She sings of the Jewish people's determination to survive, telling how her grandfather sung this song to her father, and then to her now. Beyond the contest, she showed off her connection to her Yemenite roots; a year later, she released an album of Yemenite Songs which would be her breakthrough. The remix of Im Nin'alu was her biggest hit, though for a long time, I only knew her through her rendition of Yerushalayim shel Zahav (Jerusalem of Gold). It's absolutely beautiful.

Ofra Haza was not the first Yemenite Jew on the Eurovision stage, nor was she the last (three of Israel's four winners were of Yemenite descent) but was probably the most notable of them. Her career afterward mixed parts of her cultural heritage with modern music, which allowed a bridge between her two worlds. Ayelet Tsabari would later write this about her in The Art of Leaving (which I highly recommend):

"...in a world where the actors on TV and the singers on TV were Ashkenazi and the models in magazines were Ashkenazi, there was Ofra, the simple Yemeni girl from Ha'tikva neighborhood whose star shone brighter than anyone's, who made it against all odds, and who looked like me, or like one of my own prettier cousins." (39)

Basically, a lot of reasons why Hi should've won--rousing song, talented singer, beautiful orchestration and a clear connection to the country it's from. I have two more runners-up on this 250, but no other deserves to take the crown more.

Personal ranking: 1st/20 Actual ranking: 2nd/20 in Munich

Final Impressions on:

--1983: Germany's first hosting didn't showcase their world-famous efficiency, as the production was less than ideal. Marlene, their host, went over everything in English, French, and German, which extended the contest to the three hour mark for the first time. Plus she called the Norwegian conductor "Johannes Skorgan", haha. #allora.

But what the production lacked, the song quality more than made up for. I like just over half the songs; even the ones I didn't fancy had their charms (except Opera, haha). The German concert orchestra does a good job in interpreting them--if I did a personal list of favorite orchestrations of all time, I fear that I might overloading on this year when it came to the top.

The glaring flaw was with the winner--Si la vie est cadeau is a descent song on its right, and the verses were especially strong. It just falls flat by the chorus and doesn't convince itself after that (though Michel Bernholc did the orchestration). And as much as I iike French ballads, this one set the contest back quite a bit, which took until the mid 1990s to recover from.

--Israel: Just like their international reputation, Israel seems to be quite polarized in Eurovision. When they send good entries, like Hi, they are really good. But when they send bad entries, they are really bad. Of course, they have some average songs, but they don't stand out as much as those at the extremes. What I can say, regardless, is that they add a bit of spice to the Eurovision party, and we can all appreciate it for doing so.

[secondhand-trash]

aka gripping onto summer by its tail by reminiscing all the flavours that represent summer

(as inspired by all the food and drinks that screams summer, which I didn’t get to have in the past months)

A/N: I mean, you can argue that it’s starting to head into autumn now that August is half way through but summer will not end for me in at least two more months so no one can stop me from writing summer related things uwu

Word count: 3672

Characters: Akaashi Keiji, Tsukishima Kei, Hinata Shoyo, Miya Osamu, Kageyama Tobio, Kuroo Tetsurou

-

Akaashi Keiji - honey peach

With his position as an editor, your lover would occasionally bring home gift boxes of sorts from the publishing house or writers he worked for as a showcase of gratitude whenever there were any special occasions or festivals. It was a nice gesture, and he had definitely received things that you would otherwise never had the luxury to enjoy with your office worker salary but as time passed, you had grown to realise that it was near impossible for a household of two to finish up all these fruits and cakes that came in dozens. Especially if it was something that neither of you actually liked, then eating up everything was near torture.

However, you nearly squealed in delight when you came home one day to see him carefully unpacking the box of honey peaches in the living room table.

“Udai sensei got this from his trip to Wakayama for scenery references,” Akaashi said as he carefully too each pink fruit out from the styrofoam nets they came in, "apparently the local peaches are in season so he bought a lot of it and handed it out to all the editors.”

Akaashi was nothing short of skeptical when he was handed the heavy box, wondering if this was an early compensation for any delays that was about to happen but knowing how much you liked white peaches, he took it with a light bow.

As he had expected, you sat next to him with your legs crossed, eyes glimmering with interest as he placed the peaches onto the table. They came in a beautiful colour, a soft pink that seemed like it was glowing from it’s smooth and rounded surface. The plumpness of the fruit already filling your imagination of how juicy it must be.

He chuckled at the way you took one in your hand and rolled it around, looking like you could barely even wait until he unpacked all of it. “Should we have one right now?”

You did not need him to say it twice, standing up in one swift movement before bending down to take the two biggest ones off the table and hopped your way to the kitchen sink. As the stream water ran down from the faucet to your hand, your finger rubbed past the fuzzy skin of the fruit that looked even more tempting with the bead of water rolling down.

“Thank you.” Akaashi took the one you handed him and picked up the small knife that you put down. 

You were eager to get to the sweet flesh inside but your attention was immediately diverted away with how skillful he was with the knife. One slice down the curve of the peach and with a press of him nimble finger, the pink skin of the peach was shed to the side and revealing the white gem underneath. You felt a sudden dryness in your throat at the droplet of stickily sweet juice rolled down his palm and trailing down his wrist.

His eyes met yours when he crouched down to lick off the juice that was about to drip off his forearm, his lips much like the fruit he was holding in hand when it was still puckered after he pulled back.

“Do you want me to peel it for you?”

“Sure,” you quickly replied, letting out a relieved sigh at how he had mistaken why you were staring at him.

Your face felt like the afternoon sun was shining right on you when he put down the peach he had in hand, but not without sucking off the stickiness left on his finger tips.

Tsukishima Kei - ichigo daifuku

If Tsukishima didn’t show up at home after the usual time when he would arrive, then he probably went off the fastest route from the museum back home to search for the hidden dessert shops in the district. You often complained that it wasn’t fair how he could stay like a pole when he eats so many sweets every day and he often retaliated that maybe that means you should stop eating the desserts he brought home, but he would still buy two portions of the same item every single time.

You tapped your finger impatiently against the table, staring at the numbers on the waiting screen of your phone. He hadn’t come home this late in a long time, having already tried out most patisseries in the area. Had there been any new releases lately? Or limited-time only products? You sighed. If that was the case, then you wouldn’t see him for at least another half an hour. There weren’t much that Tsukishima Kei was stupidly stubborn about, but he would never leave a line no matter how much longer he had to wait after he queued up. 

You snapped around when you heard the sound of keys rattling outside the door.

“Took you long enough,” you said, leaning on the back of the chair as your lover appeared from the doorway.

“Does that mean you don’t want this?” he replied with a knowing smirk, waving the small, white box he was holding in hand, “because I don’t mind having all of these to myself-”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Yes, yes...” he gave a mocking sigh, laughing a little when you rolled your eyes at him.

“So, what is it that got you staying out so late?” you said, eyeing the logo on the box that you had never seen before as he placed it in front of you and pulled out the chair opposite to yours.

“The queue was scary long,” he said nonchalantly as he unhooked the flaps on each side, “let’s just hope it’s as good as people claim it is.”

You peaked inside curiously when he opened the box, letting out a delighted “ohhhhh” when you saw what it was. The white dough of the daifuku looked so cute with the powered that dusted on top, tempting you to poke it and watch it dent. It was cut apart in the middle where the large strawberry sat on top of thinly layered red bean paste like it was a king sitting on its throne. Some daifuku put it sliced strawberries or hide it up with the glutinous skin, but there was something that brings much glee to your heart at the round fruit that was on display.

Tsukishima made a side remark on how much you looked like a child as you held the paper lining it came in but you ignored him, closing your eyes in satisfaction after taking a big bite right into the center. You could still feel the power on your tongue from the daifuku but the juice of the strawberry quickly taken over your taste buds. It was a refreshing taste, sweet and sour, making you sit up just a little straighter. The pure sugary taste of the red bean paste and the sourness of the fruit was a perfect balance, giving just enough satisfaction to any sweet tooth but not too overbearing that you would feel like it made our throat itch.

The side section of the daifuku was very satisfying to look at when you pulled back, the white, the vibrant red and the brown all existing in a portion that was just right.

You looked up when your boyfriend laughed, “You really do eat like a child.”

You were about to say something smart in retaliation when he got up, leaning closer and closer to you before brushing the tip of his finger against your lips.

“You got powder on your face...” he muttered, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as his gaze fixed on you.

He looked so damn cocky when he pulled away, licking off the power on his finger while watching your dazed expression.

In some sense, you were kind of like an ichigo daifuku too. Tsukishima snorted to himself as he took a bite into his own dessert, eyeing your flustered expression from the corner of his eyes.

Hinata Shoyo - ramune soda

The peak of high school romance was walking home with your boyfriend under the sinking sun as he pushed his bike instead of riding it just to spend more time with you on the way.

"And then the ball came like ‘bam!’ but he hit it back with a ‘thump!’-” Hinata’s hand was flailing around as he desperately tried to explain to you what just happened during practice which even if you were well-versed in the art of volleyball, you were just mindlessly nodding along his excited rambling with a smile on your face from how cute he was whenever he got hyped.

Nothing felt more like summer than the sound of cicadas chirping on the trees, the chain of the bike’s peddle clicking as it went, the sun being the perfect warmth on your skin and the chattering of a young couple.

“Oh?” Hinata suddenly stopped in the middle of the road and you eyed him in confusion when he let out a gasp like he figured something out in the middle of his speech. His eyes were shining when he spotted Sakanoshida Mart out of the corner of his eye and got a brilliant idea.

He placed your hand on the handle of his bike before dashing inside with a grin, “Hold this for me, I want to go get something.”

You leaned on the rail of the bike as you waited for him, standing back up when he left the store again with two glass bottles on his hand.

“Here!” he beamed as he handed one of the glassy blue bottles to you, “my treat!”

You felt the beads of water that condensed on the surface on your skin when you took it from him. The bottle narrowed down from the top and then widened again after reaching a particularly flattened space in the middle, with a plastic cap that was sealed on top.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had one of these...” you said, twisting the bottle in your hand as Hinata eagerly ripped off the seal to take the cap in hand.

“Careful,” he placed the bottle on the seat of his bike and you held it steady for him as he flipped the cap to put it at the opening of the bottle before pushing it down. You two both let out a gasp of victory when you heard a loud pop, watching the marble that closed off the soda fell into the middle as bubbles rose to the top. 

You thanked him as he handed the opened soda to you and took the one you were holding onto. Taking a large gulp, the fizz was tingling at the back of your throat as you slowly grew numb under the chill, the sweetness and taste unique to ramune spreading in your mouth as you released the rim of the bottle with a pop.

“This is so good,” you said with a satisfied sigh.

“Right? Summer is not complete without soda,” he said, slamming the cap down with a grin and tilted the bottle up against his lips. His eyes curled into two thin curves as he pulled away with a deep exhale, “so good!”

You chuckled as he kicked up the stand of his bike, taking small sips of your drink.

“Ah, where was I?”

Nothing felt more like summer than the golden glow of the sun wrapping you up, the sound of footsteps and tires against the concrete road and laughing with someone you love with a bottle of ramune in hand.

Miya Osamu - hiyashi chyuuka (”cold Chinese style noodles” that is 100% oriented from Japan and has nothing to do with Chinese food)

“Ah... so... ho- hot...”

When you walked into the living room to see your boyfriend facing the fan with his mouth opened and slumping down like he was about to melt into a puddle onto the floor, you knew it was one of those rare days when he was far too affected by the heat to even bring out the strength to eat let alone go into the kitchen.

On days like this, you would take up the rare task of cooking and make the one dish you knew would revive the melting pile of fox that was whining outside.

You were far too spoiled by Osamu’s godly cooking. You sighed to yourself as you looked at the fridge that was technically also your and felt utterly clueless as to where to start. It seemed... very different to when you last cooked which was a very long time ago. It took quite a while for you to find everything you need but staring at all the ingredient for the toppings that were lined up in front of you, you rolled your sleeves up and got to work.

This was so you could get your boyfriend back on his feet and you could just leech off of his cooking, you thought to yourself as you rummaged through the utensil holder at the side.

You could add most anything to cold noodles, in all honesty, but you were sticking to the most common combination this time. You chopped up the cucumber, carrot, and ham into thin strands and push them to the side before cracking an egg into the bowl. You felt incredibly rusty with the pan as you carefully poured the egg in as thin as you could, wondering how something as simple as making egg roll wrappers got so complicated.

You felt a sudden weight crashing down on your shoulders when you were cooking the noodles that was swirling in the boiled water.

“Samu.”

“I feel so tired...” your boyfriend muttered into your neck as he slumped down on you, “I don’t even want to eat, am I dying?”

“No, it’s just the summer heat,” you pat his head, struggling to move under his grip, “Samu, you are like a furnace, can you let go?”

“No.” 

“But I’m making chyuuka...” you felt a slight shake behind you and he looked up from your shoulder. His eyes flicker between the pot you were stirring and you like he was calculating if this was worth it before slowly loosening up his arms around your waist.

You took a breath when you felt the pressure being lifted off your back but the heat still hung on by your shoulder as his arm lazily draped over you.

“Samu, what are you doing?”

“Inspecting you.”

Your shirt was soaked in sweat by the time you put down the two plates on the table. The sauce that the noodles and colourful toppings were drenched in was refreshingly sour, perfect for days when you felt like you had rocks weighting you down in your core without eating anything. He was already slurping it up after a few small bites initially, physically getting back into his usual self as he let out a satisfied hum at the sauce that expended in his mouth.

You grinned as you watch him eat, feeling like your own appetite had grown as well.

Kageyama Tobio - soft serve

The sun was burning hot above your heads but your hand that was grasped tightly in your boyfriend’s felt like it was even hotter.

Your boyfriend didn’t seem to mind the heat for even just a bit, or the sweat on the palm of your hands, or that you were starting to sweat from between your fingers as well. He just seemed unbothered as he walked ahead, still holding onto your very clammy hand as you wandered past 

Summer was not a good time for skinship as much as you love physical contact, it really wasn’t.

Then you spotted a little kiosk out from the corner of your eyes.

“Tobio?”

“Hm?” he said, his fingers that was intertwined with yours tightening just a little out of reflex.

“Do you want ice cream?”

You could feel the chill that was left on the paper cone from the aircon of the kiosk when you took the two soft serves from the employee, feeling very relieved by the cold touch to the tip of your fingers and the chilled air that was floating your way from the icy treat.

“Here.”

Seating on a park bench, you gave a few small licks to the chocolaty ice cream that melted on your tongue while paying Kageyama who was next to you a few glances. He would have argued against it so hard with a flushing face if you brought it up to him, but watching his facial features slowly softened up as he poked his tongue out to lap at the ice cream really reminded you of little kids who could be win over with sweet treats too. He looked almost concentrated as he stared at the milky soft serve he was holding, much like how he was when he had his inner debates about what drinks to get.

Looking at your boyfriend’s near child-likely pure expression, the thought of teasing him a little suddenly rose in your head.

“Tobio,” you said, “can I have a bite of yours?”

“Sure,” he very naturally turned the cone to the side where he hadn’t got to yet but before he could hold it out to you, you gripped his wrist and leaned down to lick right where he took his last bite.

You two had definitely done more than sharing one ice cream cone, but there was still something about going out of your way to create these moments that made the whole thing a lot more flirtatious than how the act actually was.

You grinned as you licked your lips, tasting the last bit of vanilla that was left as he froze in place, the tip of his ears growing redder and redder as what you just did slowly settled in his head.

“Hm,” you chuckled to yourself, “so sweet.”

Kuroo Tetsurou - honey lemon

“Hey Kuroo! (y/n) is here!”

You had barely stepped foot into the gymnasium before Bokuto loudly announced your arrival to, well, everyone. You wanted to disappear in the spot when everyone turned around to where you were, eyeing the person who dropped by out if interest.

You had wanted to make a low profile appearance and left before you would be exposed to his friends’ friendly teasing, but now the entire gym and likely everyone in the ones neighbouring it knew you were here to visit your boyfriend when he was away on camp.

It did not help that Kuroo jogged to where you were with the largest grin on his face, bending down so his face would be right in front of yours as if it didn’t matter that everyone was looking at you two at all.

“Hello,” he said with a very sweet tone, like he was glad to show everyone that he was so utterly whipped for you and that unlike the others, he actually had someone who would go all the way to another campus just to see him.

“Hey,” you replied with a whisper, feeling rather embarrassed at the situation you were in.

He was still grinning ear to ear when he stood up straight, throwing one arm around your shoulder to shield you from everyone’s curious stare as he turned around. “I’ll be right back.”

“Remember to actually come back.”

“Don’t be alone for too long!”

“Be responsible.”

“God, I’m so going to fight Bokuto for this...” you sighed when you were finally left alone with Kuroo.

“Don’t, you’ll increase Akaashi’s workload,” he snickered and you couldn’t help but laugh along. “So,” he stopped midway, turning around to pull you closer to him after looking around to see that there was no one but the two of you, “someone misses me, huh?"

He tilted his head, a small smirk dancing on his handsome features like he was baiting for you to say yes. But the truth was that he was right, you did miss him. You had expected that you wouldn’t get to spend as much time with him as you wanted to because of his club activities but it didn’t stop you from feeling extra lonely in these days when you couldn’t even see him at school. 

As if sensing that was something you were upset about, he did not wait for you to reply and pressed you close to his chest. “Well, I miss you a lot.”

You sinked into the feeling of being surrounded by his warmth, feeling the reassurance washing away your previous emptiness. He pulled away with a smile, seeing that you were a lot more at ease than before.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” you dipped into the bag you were carrying and pulled out a rectangular tupperware, “here.”

“Hm?” he took the box with interest, immediately feeling how cold it was. Holding it up, he looked at it from the bottom to see the pieces of lemon sitting in the golden liquid, the light reflecting off of it like it was glistening.

“Is that...”

“It feels weird if I just come here and leave without doing anything so,” you gave a light shrug to brush off the amount of research you had put in to look for things that might be good for people who had to lose hydration constantly from sweat in the summer, “here you go.”

“Awwwww,” you winced at the tone he used as he leaned forward and forced you to look at him, “did you make this for me?”

“I make this for you and everyone else on your team,” you corrected him but he ignored it as he continued to coo at you. “don’t hoard it.”

“Of course, of course, whatever,” he replied quick but didn’t hide the shit-eating grin on his face, “but you made something for me, I’m so touched...”

“I’m starting to regret it.”

“Don’t,” he said, holding you to his side, “I’m going to survive the rest of this week just from the serotonin I got from this.”

“I’m regretting-”

“Alright, alright,” he let out a laugh, pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he stopped with the teasing. 

He got punched by the rest of the team that night. Apparently, the grin he had on ever since you left ticked everyone off. 

[phantom-curve]

Congrats on reaching your follower milestone soon, dear! It was tough choosing a prompt because there are some really nice ones on the list—but I'll go with #2 aspectabund for Julie and Luke. I'd love to be less predictable and choose another 'verse than "gimme a chance" but I am weak. (Unless you’re really not feeling it, then I'd love to see a oneshot of your liking. No pressure. ♥️)

thank you!! and thank you for this prompt and pairing because I had actually imagined this exact scene weeks ago but I knew I wasn't going to be able to make it work in the full fic, so now I get to just write it as a deleted scene for you! in the timeline of the gimme a chance AU, this is set after the last deleted scene but before the scene with Alex and Reggie in chapter 6. just a little moment of Luke and Julie still not really knowing what they are but recklessly forging ahead anyway❤️ (with some Flynn backstory thrown in for good measure!)

aspectabund - letting emotions show easily through the face or eyes (Rated M for consistency, language, and a fairly suggestive setting)

Luke could study Julie in any light and find her beautiful, but there was something about seeing her under the dimmed interior lighting of the bar bathroom that felt particularly special. Maybe it was the way she seemed to glow underneath the muted lights that surrounded the bathroom mirror. Maybe it was because it was the first place he had ever experienced a softer, more vulnerable moment with her. Maybe it was because her presence alone somehow managed to turn even the grungiest of atmospheres into something beautiful and magical.

Whatever the reason, Luke had come to love the times he managed to steal away with her into the bathroom, losing himself in the feel of her lips pressed against his and her warm skin beneath his seeking fingers, every inch of him filled to the brim with thoughts of her and her alone. His port in the storm, the guiding light he couldn’t help but follow. Julie Molina, his brightest burning star.

Tonight was almost identical to every other night that Julie came by the bar. Another open mic, another flirty encounter exchanged via lyrics over shots of tequila, the background noise of whoever happened to be up on stage never quite loud enough to pull them out of their own little personal bubble. Dante was working, which meant Luke didn’t feel quite so bad about sneaking into the bathroom during his 10 to find Julie waiting, lips soft and inviting against his own, curves just as sweet as he remembered though always better than he imagined in his dreams at night. She had been driving him crazy all night in her cropped band tee and the jeans that he had a love/hate relationship with. Denim shouldn’t be allowed to look that good and then be that damned difficult to take off.

They had come together quickly, never willing to waste their stolen time together when there was a clock ticking and a bar still full of patrons just a door away. As much as it might feel like their own private world locked away in the bathroom, the real world still continued on outside without much cause for stopping. Tonight though, Luke couldn’t help but linger just a moment after he finally came down from the way Julie had left him gasping her name. Her head was still tucked into the crook of his neck, her hair even wilder than it had been when she first showed up. She was an absolute vision. A true goddess. It blew his mind she was even willing to give him the time of day, and he was constantly reminded of how lucky he was to have these small, stolen moments with her.

Julie seemed to notice his extra attention, pulling her flushed face clear of its hiding place and regarding him with a look that he couldn’t quite decipher. Soft, but still guarded. Their eyes met and he was so sure she would see it then. The love he was never able to fully hold back anymore. He studied her from head to toe, let his gaze caress every inch of her body with the kind of soft adoration that tended to make itself known the second she was within his vicinity these days.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Her question wasn’t an accusation, but Luke felt the need to hide from her probing all the same. It wasn’t her fault he had fallen in love with her. He didn’t get to force that on her when she hadn’t ever asked for it or encouraged it in the first place. His mind blanked for a moment, scrambling to come up with a plausible answer to her question. He blurted the first thing he could think of, not sure where the thought had come from but willing to follow it to the end if it meant insight into Julie and steering clear of his own emotional turmoil.

“Where does Flynn think you are when you come here?”

Julie pulled back further, her legs closing slightly as if it would force him out of his position there. Luke didn’t retreat. Kept his hands alongside the dip of her waist, fingers softly stroking the bare skin underneath the shirt she still wore. He made sure his gaze was soft and steady. He wasn’t trying to chastise her, just maybe understand her a bit better. She had said Flynn didn’t know about the nights she came to the bar, but there was no way her best friend was missing the fact that three nights out of the week, Julie wasn’t home until well past midnight.

“The library.”

The answer seemed so ridiculous that Luke couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up in his chest. Julie’s arms folded across her chest, nose scrunching into an adorable pout that he wanted to kiss away. She tilted her head to the side, hair falling over her shoulder, and he could practically read her mind through the look on her face. She was not amused. Luke backpedaled a bit, trying to explain exactly why her cover up seemed so flimsy to him.

“You tell Flynn you’re going to the library and then you come home looking like that and she just...believes you’ve been at the library?”

Luke pointed towards the mirror behind them, and Julie turned to follow his finger. She seemed startled to see her own appearance: hair wild and mussed, cheeks still flushed with leftover satisfaction, lips swollen from his kisses, eyes shining in a way he had only seen right after he played for her and right after he made her fall apart with his touch. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, smoothing the smaller hairs along her temple as if that would control them. It didn’t do much, just like Luke knew it wouldn’t. Julie’s mouth twisted to the side in an annoyed grimace, and she turned away from the mirror to look up at him once more.

“Well, no. I tell her I’m going to the library when I leave the apartment, and then I usually do go there for a few hours before coming here. She’s always asleep by the time I get home. Flynn is a strict lights-out-at-10 type of girl, unless Carrie is the one keeping her up.”

A light shudder worked its way down Julie’s spine and Luke didn’t even try to think about the ways Carrie might be keeping Flynn awake past 10. Instead, he chose to focus on the minor revelations about the inner workings of exactly how Julie ended up at the bar every Tuesday and Thursday as well as most Saturdays.

“Huh. That weirdly makes sense for her. Yet another reason for her to hate me, I guess. Sleeping that early is for grannies and kids.”

He delivered the last line with a teasing smirk. He mostly meant it as a joke. It was easier to poke fun at Flynn if he was doing it in a way that also kind of poked fun at himself. Then it wasn’t so much him shit talking her as it was him admitting he wasn’t always his favorite person either. Julie must have seen something behind his eyes or on his face though because all of the sudden she softened, her hands raising from where they had been holding her up on the counter to cradle his face instead. The move was so intimate it made him want to purr. He settled for leaning into her hold, head turned to sneak a quick kiss against her palm. When he met her eyes, the guarded walls in her gaze had melted, leaving only a gentle kind of fondness in their wake.

“Flynn doesn’t hate you.”

Luke snorted. Julie’s tone was soft and sweet, but he knew a lie when he heard one, no matter how nicely it was said.

“Yes, she does.”

He could tell she was about to argue, so he lifted one finger to rest against her lips, effectively cutting off whatever she had been about to say as he continued talking.

“Flynn hasn’t liked me since we first met, and I asked her who the cute blonde musician was without knowing it was Carrie. Then I made the mistake of going off about how I knew Carrie was a musician because, well, I just knew, and she liked that even less. But I was upgraded to hate the night you came to our show with her, and I made a complete ass of myself. It’s fine, Julie. I know the score. You don’t have to pretend she likes me just cause we’re...ya know...”

He trailed off awkwardly, not quite willing to label them as casual when that had become his absolute least favorite word in the English language lately. The finger that had been held to her lips curled back into the palm of his hand so he could raise it to scratch at the back of his neck. The sight seemed to soften Julie even more, one of her hands falling from its spot against his cheek to rest against his bare chest, directly above his heart. There was a tenderness behind the action that was new for them, Julie’s eyes warm and gentle as she regarded him. He wasn’t sure he liked the way it made his heart stutter and constrict, wished he had the extra layer of his shirt between them for the first time ever, but she was still perched on top of it where he had laid it down as a barrier between her and the countertop.

“Luke.”

The sound of his name sent another wave of longing through him. His eyes had to be practically overflowing with the depths of his feelings for her by now. She had to be able to see it.

“Flynn does not hate you. She just...doesn’t understand you.”

He couldn’t quite believe that they were in a bathroom at Ebbie’s, half-dressed and still just barely back on the Earthly plane, and somehow, they were discussing Flynn of all people. Luke generally did his best not to think about Flynn, especially lately when he was certain if she ever found out what he was up to there wouldn’t be a place in this world he would be able to hide from her. He tried to play it off again, make a joke that would lighten the atmosphere and get them off of the topic that he was constantly pretending didn’t hurt as much as it did.

“Julie, Flynn isn’t the one I’m worried about hating me. That ship has sailed, and she’s the captain of it. It’s okay. As long as I have you, I’m not gonna worry about something I can’t change.”

Okay, so that was maybe a bit sappier than he should have worded it, but the sentiment was true, all the same. It was getting harder and harder for him to hold back those pieces of himself lately. The parts that wanted desperately to belong to Julie and no one else.

The delicate hand that had been resting against his cheek trailed a gentle path up to tuck itself behind his head, dislodging his own hand from where it had still been nervously scratching. There was a new look in her eyes, one he hadn’t seen before, not even when he had tried to take her home and had been offered a small acquiescence in the form of dropping her off at her own home instead. This look was much softer, almost endless in its depth and Luke felt his breath catch as if she had stolen it away herself. This was a look that felt precious and vulnerable and like maybe she was finally going to strike the word casual from the definition of their relationship. He dipped his head, forehead falling to rest against her own so he could bathe in that look for as long as possible. Julie didn’t pull away. Instead, her grip tightened over his heart and around the back of his neck. An invitation for him to close that small gap between them once more and bring his lips to hers.

This kiss was different too. No edge to it at all, just a soft sigh of movement against one another. Neither one taking from the other, each simply offering a piece of themselves. A gentle understanding, a moment of true harmony together where they were on the same page. Luke had no fucking clue what, exactly, that page was, but he would stay there and reread it over and over again until he died if it meant holding Julie against him like this.

The timer on his phone chirped, the sound just barely audible through the material of his pants. It was a warning, their warning, that this stolen moment was fast coming to an end and if Luke didn’t get back out to the bar someone would come looking. Luke had never hated an interruption more in his entire life. For as long as he lived, he didn’t think he’d be able to reach his limit of basking in the presence of Julie Molina, but especially like this when it felt all the more precious and fleeting.

Slowly, she pulled herself back, their lips parting in a way that told him she would have continued to linger without the interruption. He almost gave into the temptation of ignoring the alarm so that he could dive back in, but then she pressed her fingers against her lips. The action, so simple and unassuming, nearly had his heart bursting. Because she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were still closed, her breathing fast and erratic. When she finally met his gaze a good ten seconds later, he was shocked to see a type of longing he had only recognized in himself reflected in the melted chocolate of her irises.

“You have to get back out there before Dante comes looking for you.”

Her voice was breathless and just this side of needy, like the thought of him leaving made her all the more desperate to keep him there. It was the strongest show of willpower that he didn’t haul her back into his arms for a repeat performance of when he first arrived in the bathroom. He nodded slowly, the sound of his metal chains and belt buckle clinking as he readjusted his jeans the only noise in the room. She slipped off the counter, offering his shirt back to him with a shy smile as she pulled her own jeans back into place. The cotton slipped over his head, and Luke silently cursed the way it obstructed his view of Julie, even if it was barely more than a couple seconds.

“See you back out there?”

He wasn’t sure why he asked. Julie always left before him, giving him a few extra moments to wash his hands and get his head back into work mode before he had to slip behind the bar once more. This time though, she wasn’t rushing to leave. Instead, she bit her lip, forehead wrinkling slightly before she gave a soft shake of her head. The walls that had disappeared in the last few minutes were firmly back in place when she met his gaze.

“I have to get some work done on a project for school. I cut my library time short tonight to get here earlier.”

It wasn’t really a rejection, but it sure as hell felt like one. Luke tried not to let it show on his face, but he wasn’t sure he managed to pull it off. He felt his own fingers at the back of his neck again and wondered when they had gotten there.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s cool. I get it.”

He shrugged a bit, tried to get some bounce back in his step as he moved towards the door.

“Luke...?”

He turned at the sound of Julie’s voice, just barely managing not to lose it when her eyes flashed momentarily with that same fleeting look of vulnerable longing.

“Next open mic is Thursday, right?”

She was trying to get them back on script. Trying to get back to that place that felt more familiar, less intense. Luke couldn’t fault her for her. He was the one that kept trying to push them outside of the confines she had created. He sighed softly, stepping close so he could press a quick kiss against her forehead.

“Next open mic is Thursday. I’ll be here.”

Her lips curved just a bit, her smile small but no less brilliant.

“See you then, Rockstar.”

He left then. Had to force his feet to move before he fell to his knees and begged her for more. More time, more stolen moments, more commitment, more of everything that he so desperately wanted from her and no one else. Luke threw himself into filling orders behind the bar, so busy he didn’t see Julie make her way out. If Dante noticed the storm cloud that hovered above his head for the rest of the night, he didn’t mention it.

He promised himself that when he saw her again on Thursday, he would let it go. Loving her didn’t give him the right to demand more. In fact, if he really loved her, he would find a way to be content with what she offered. Because if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he wasn’t ready to give her up just yet. And he didn’t think she was ready to give him up yet, either. So, he would stay, and he would accept what he was given, because every new moment meant another memory for him to carry with him when this whole thing ended. And somehow, that would have to be enough.

[abluescarfonwaston]

Shapeshifter Au 6

Heads up at the top this one is our “Last Wish Special”. It’s extra long and what should be no surprise to anyone- Jaskier does not have a good time! Please take care of yourselves as we move into plot territory.

Part 1   Part 5 Inspired by @spielzeugkaiser art here And Also now on Ao3 cause that’s probably easier for everyone.

Sometimes, when Geralt got hurt, he’d use his shapes against him.

Help was the word he’d use. To help him. But if Geralt preferred to think of him using his shapes against him then so be it.

“Get off me Jaskier.”

He looked down his snout at Geralt and grumbled his reply before returning to his composing. They would at very least wait until the bleeding stopped to ride back. Since Geralt insisted the injuries were not so grievous as to require proper attention.

He might very well have been right about that. Which meant they could afford to wait for it to stop before returning for the reward.

If Geralt wanted to treat his wounds then he’d let him. But he wasn’t going to let him ride off and make everything worse because he was a stubborn ass. That was Jaskier’s job. Being a stubborn ass. Not that he made a habit of being farm animals. The risk it would sour him to the taste of their meat was far too great. He refused to be vegetarian. Grass just did not taste very good. No matter what Roach claimed.

“Jaskier get off me or I will throw you off.”

He shifted more of his near 400 pound weight onto Geralt’s torso to demonstrate exactly what he thought about that.

“I can.” He growled.

He puffed up his fur telling him exactly what would happen if he tried.

He had bigger forms yet. If that’s how he wanted to play- well. He wouldn’t bet on Geralt winning. Witcher enhancements be damned.

Geralt, seemingly having realized this, ceased his struggling and ventured a new tactic.

Insulting him.

Which got him grumbling and growling at Geralt. But didn’t get him off him. Geralt knew well enough what he was saying. He didn’t need to transform to express his displeasure.

Geralt, a versatile and clever man, switch tactics yet again.

Reciting history facts but slightly wrong- the year was 1123 and he was a duke not a prince Geralt- asking questions about agriculture – cereal crops deplete the soil of nitrogen. Legumes fix this. A fallow field is left for weeds and grazing. The three fields are rotated. Together this system allows farmers to plant more crops and increase production. – and finally just asking him to play for him.

He, personally, admitted that his bear vocals left something to be desired but he didn’t let that stop him from belting out a few heavily modified versions of his favorite tunes.

Geralt covered his ears and glared at him.

It was only after three verses of Fishmonger’s daughter that he finally popped down into his human shape to do the finale justice.

Geralt shoved him off breaking his sustained note.

“Rude.” He squawked from the dirt as Geralt stood.

“I stopped bleeding three songs ago!” He growled at him.

“I’m well aware.” He grinned. “But I do so enjoy a captive audience.”

Geralt threw the bedroll at his head. Which did hit him. But he managed to catch it on the rebound, which counted as a win in his books.

“I don’t need you mothering me bard.”

“Is that what you think this is? I’m trying to keep Nenneke from murdering me next time you need her services. The woman terrifies me Geralt.”

She did. A little. Not in the way he suspected she expected to be feared though.

It was because her eyes always held too many questions about why he’d arrived before Geralt, knowing exactly the condition of the man’s wounds, even though he lacked a horse while Geralt road in on Roach.

He’d fly ahead, unhampered by the twisting of the roads, and set them to prepare for Geralt’s arrival. Or, when the situation was far graver, have them send a cart to meet him. Transforming on the road just outside of the temples view.

His skin itched when she stared at him too long. Like she almost knew what he was and if she watched him closely enough she might figure it out.

Luckily, “I mean the woman already hates me Geralt.” She was easy to annoy into not looking closely. “No need to worsen her to me by damaging the one reason she even tolerates my presence at the temple.”

If all she wanted to see was an airheaded flop of a bard that was all he would show her. Staying within the confines of expectations worked well enough to keep people from digging.

“She does hate you.” Geralt agreed with a smirk. Pleased he’d befriended someone Jaskier had not.

“Naaaah deep down she likes me.”

Geralt bobbed his head, half conceding the point.

People were complicated like that. She hated Most of him. But she liked that he cared about Geralt. Even if she didn’t always agree with how he cared about Geralt.

With how they cared for each other.

So maybe he shouldn’t have poked the insomniatic bear that was Geralt as he dredged up the lake at Rinde. But he was a bear often enough and he didn’t mind being poked. Sometimes Geralt needed to buck up and face his problems head on!

Then his throat started closing.

Which was scary. Sure. But there were plenty of forms that didn’t need his throat to breath. He’d play catfish or pike or bream or – he was just listing fish again- something while Geralt sorted out the curse the djinn smacked him with.

Except.

Except none of them would come.

He tried to shift bigger and his skin pulled too tight like it was yanking away from the muscle and he tried to shift down and his organs compressed in his chest. And he was left folded over in pain from his throat and his lungs and from being trapped.

Trapped in one form. Perhaps forever.

“Can you shift?” Geralt asked him, looking between him and Roach. Debating.

He managed a ragged sob that Geralt translated as the ‘no’ it was.

There was the bumpy ride on Roach- poor girl they weighed far too much together- and the elf with the painkillers – which helped a little. But the world continued its painful descent into darkness.

Geralt was scruffing him by the doublet. Dragging his limp form. Somewhere. He liked being scruffed. It reminded him of the old mouser in the kitchen who’d claimed him as kin when he was barely a boy. Whenever he got in trouble, or was lonely, or scared he’d just run to the old tom and pop down into a kitten. Instantly be scruffed and pulled under the cabinet for a bath and cuddle.

Scruffing meant that soon everything would be okay. He was in pain and terrified but soon. Soon everything would be alright.

 Everything was not alright.

There was a very scary woman with an amphora on her belly and-

And she was a mage.

A powerful mage.

Something in him was singing. Singing at her notice. Her attention.

He didn’t much like that part of him.

His knees near buckled under him as she gripped his nethers and pressed a knife to his throat.

“If you want to keep all you have familiar,” She squeezed him tighter. The singing and terror crescendo-ing in his ears. What do you want me to be? It sung, heart racing in his chest. “Make a damn wish.”

He reached. Reached for. Something. Some shape that would get her away. Small or big or cute or monsterous or something.

Her magic threw him to the floor and it crackled over his skin- she wants you to be human so that is what you shall be – lighting up every nerve with delicious power – do as she says. So that the powerful one might keep you – and burning the tapestry of thread he didn’t know was woven underneath his skin.

“Make your damn wish! Do it now!”

This one is better. Powerful. Be what she wants. “I don’t- I don’t know!” Lightning ran through his veins and fire blazed through his chest and- and- Be her’s. Wish to be hers. Exalted one.

He didn’t want that.

“I wish very much to leave this place forever!”

She turned from him, the burning fading. The singing loud in his ears. Scolding, screaming, begging him to go back to her as he scrambled from the building.

And Geralt was there.

Geralt was alive.

Geralt left him to that witch.

“Jaskier. You’re okay.”

“I’m glad to hear that you give a monkey’s about it.” He fumed.

The singing was quieter now. The smoldering in his chest easing next to Geralt-

Geralt was going back inside.

The building collapsing.

“She could not have survived it.” The elf from earlier- Chireadan- said.

There was coldness in the shape of the lightning flowing through his veins. Ashes in the stitching of his soul where Geralt once resided.

“Why did Geralt go in there? It doesn’t make any sense. What, to save a mad fucking witch?”

“Because she was magnificent.”

She was. The song wept.

His knees hit the ground, the pain of the gravel collision distant, over the shapeless void that pulled him to nothing.

“What am I supposed to do now, hm?” What would be left when this form collapsed into the emptiness in his chest? “It wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

You should have died with him.

No.

“I’m gonna write you. The best song. So that everyone remembers who you were, what we did, everything we saw.” There was a lifetime there. In the spaces they shared. Not a human lifespan perhaps. But it wasn’t like he was human anyway. “And I will sing it. For the rest of my days.”

“He always said I had the most wonderful singing voice.”

A joke. Between him and a dead man.

If he wanted to correct him he should have stayed alive.

Chireadan knelt before him, laying a hand on his shoulder. A tiny beat of comfort in a symphony of pain.

“They’re alive.”

They were very alive.

He ran his fingers down Roach’s neck, unsure how he was supposed to feel.

Relief that Geralt was alive? Jealously that he’d gone to Yennefer? Jealously she choose him over you?

Anger?

Joy?

Hollow. He felt hollow.

Roach nudged him.

He was nearly draped over her.

He wanted that old tom cat to scruff him and pull him under the cabinet. To lick and squish and purr him back to whole.

What would he be if he shifted now?

Nothing. It called to him that nothing.

Nothing wasn’t a shape. Nothing wasn’t Jaskier. Jaskier wasn’t nothing.

Still it called to him.

Roach lipped at a saddlebag. The one he’d nested in as his wing healed.

He shoved his bloody shirt in as a makeshift nest and fluttered in.

If Geralt wanted his peace he could dump him on the side of the road.

Until then. He breathed in the way the leather bag blended Roach and Geralt into itself and fell asleep.

 He drifted back to the shores of sleep welcomed by the gentlest smoothing of his feathers.

He readjusted, further nesting into the callouses of Geralt’s hand.

“I thought.” The pain in Geralt’s hesitating voice forced his eyes open. “That the djinn took your voice and your shifting from you.”

Geralt was laying down on their bedroll watching him with those big sad eyes. Which hurt.

But not as much as the fact Geralt had stopped petting him. He shifted into Geralt’s petting hand demanding he get back to work with a sharp chirp.

Geralt resumed his gentle stroking, lips twitching slightly upward. “So bossy.” He complained.

They laid there as the sun went down; quiet and exhausted.

“We used to do this a lot. When your wing was broken. It was nice.”

He softly trilled an agreement.

“I could smell you on Roach when I got back you know? I thought you had left. I understand if you’d left. After what I did.”

He blinked tiredly at Geralt before standing to shift up. He didn’t want to have this conversation now but if Geralt did then. Well then they’d have it now.

“Don’t.” Geralt’s hands shifted slightly, like they were caging him in. They weren’t. He knew he could get out. Knew that if he wanted to leave Geralt would let him.

He settled back into Geralt’s fingers, more than happy not to.

“Tonight. Can we be that again? Just for tonight.”

Be simple. Be easy.

Nenneke always scolded Geralt for thinking he could deny destiny. Because she cared about him and knew destiny would have her way, willingly or not. It would he agreed. Geralt couldn’t run away from her forever.

But he did help him run away from it. Sometimes. Like tonight?

Tonight destiny could go fuck itself.

Tonight they were just a bird and a man sharing each other’s company.

Tonight they were easy.

[openshearts]

forever & always

m! raleigh x mc 

2.7k words

candace peforms a song she wrote about her and raleighs breakup at the vinyls and things get messy 

a/n: forever & always by taylor swift is a bop please listen to it. Funny story, the idea for this fic came to me while I was singing forever and always alone to myself but imagined I was singing it to a stadium full of fans like any normal person would 

*the words in italics are lyrics from the song 

Candace has never been shy about putting her own emotions into the songs that she releases, whether about finding herself or some kind of romantic angle. People seem to like that kind of thing, feeling like they know the artist through their music. She’s never minded, all of the speculation and her putting herself out there-until now. 

Forever and Always was a last minute addition to her second album. Last minute almost being an understatement seeing as it was ready to go onto the album about a month out from when it was set to release. Fiona had been very upset about that, but eventually she’d gotten over it due to some extenuating circumstances. It had all paid off anyway, the song ended up being the most popular one off the album, even though it wasn’t initially released as a single it started getting circulated to radio stations and ended up being more popular than the actual single they’d released before the full album. 

Which of course is the whole problem. In her haste to get the sound fully produced and put on the album as the final track, Candace had neglected to think about how she would feel about having to hear it over and over, or talk about it in interviews or perform it in front of actual people. Forever and Always is a song she started to write two days after she broke up with Raleigh Carerra and finished a week later after she’d moved out of the apartment they shared. Now she heard it almost everyday when she went out, when she was in the car, and it hurt more than she thought it would. 

And now she’s supposed to perform it at the vinyls. 

“I’m not doing that,” She tells Fiona, not even able to look the other woman in the eye. Candace shuffles around her apartment looking for a pair of her glasses that she's put in some drawer or on some table. “Can you tell them I won’t do that? I will do any other song, any other one.” 

“It’s the most popular song on the album,” Fiona reminds her, “It's higher on the charts than any other song you’ve done, it’s synonymous with you now, it’s kind of your defining song.” 

Candace finally finds the pair of glasses in a kitchen drawer and sighs, “Of course it is. Just my luck that it would be my defining song, the one I can’t listen to without tearing up.” Neither of them says anything, and Candace pulls a bag of pretzels out of the cabinet, then opens them which makes a lot of noise. “Okay,” She relents, “I will perform the song, but just know that I resent being forced to, and that I will need alcohol as soon as i'm done.” 

“Both are noted.”

The night of the show comes around and Candace can’t shake the sense of impending doom that she keeps pulling at the back of her mind. The dress she’s wearing is one of her favorites of all time, but even that can’t stop the upcoming performance. It’s all made worse by the fact that she realized after she’d already agreed to do it that Raleigh was going to be there and see the performance. She knows that he knows the song is about him, just like she assumes the rest of the world does, just because there is no other logical option. Their relationship was public knowledge, and eventually so was the breakup. 

She starts the performance and feels confident. She knows what she’s doing, it’s what she loves to do: sing for people and know that they hear it that they hear it, and like it. She catches his eye briefly during one of the verses but she looks away before any motion can come out of it. 

So here’s to everything, coming down to nothing 

Here’s to silence that cuts me to the core

Where is this going? 

That one almost gets her, not because she’s looking at him but because she can feel his eyes on her, she knows he’s watching and it she wonders if he knows what those words mean to her. How much had it blindsided her when he just casually brought it up over dinner? She doesn’t think about it too much, just keeps going until she gets to the final chorus. Just as she thinks she’s actually going to do this and make it through without anything terrible happening she reaches the last chorus. 

And it rains in your bedroom everything is wrong

It rains when your here and it rains when your gone

Cause I was there when you said forever and always 

The emotions overwhelm her so much that she doesn’t even see that she’s looking at him, and that she’s crying. Suddenly she’s very aware of the fact that she’s looking at him, and tears are flowing down her face faster than she can wipe them away. She doesn’t stop singing, but she feels trapped in the moment like she can’t pull herself away from her own humiliation happening right in front of her. 

But she finishes the song. 

She waits until the lights are down before she all but runs off the stage. She runs through the stage, through the backstage, and out into the cold air. She walks away from the building, tears flowing down her face still. A chill goes down her body as she stands out there not knowing what to do but painfully aware that she just embarrassed herself on national TV. She wraps her arms around herself, mind running with thoughts of if she’ll ever come back from this or if for the rest of her career she’ll be asked about the night she cried looking Raleigh Carrera in the eyes. 

At least if she thinks about her career she won’t think about how much she misses him. She turns towards the building just as Avery comes rushing outside, clearly she’s been looking for her in the arena. “Hey,” She says, running up to Candace even though she’s in heels, “Are you okay?” 

Candace sniffles, “Yeah.” Avery gives her a look, and she lets out a breath before saying, “Fine, No I’m not. I just ruined my entire career and embarrassed myself on national television. I am never going to live this down.” 

Avery looks sympathetic and quickly wraps her up in a hug. “It’ll be okay love,” She says, “People are going to forget eventually.” 

Candace doesn’t believe that for a second, because if it was her she would never forget that. Her mind races with the thoughts of how many buzzfeed listicles it’ll end up on, how many articles will be written in the next few days about her, how many tweets she’ll be tagged in about her very public emotional breakdown. Fiona comes out of the door next, clearly out of breath from some kind of running to find her. 

“Excuse my french,” She says when she catches up, “But what the fuck was that?” 

“The consequences of making me perform a fucking break up with my ex in the audience,” She says, tears start to from in her eyes, “God, I fucked up.” 

“This can be handled,” Fiona says suddenly, “It’s going to go away eventually.” 

��That’s being optimistic,” She rolls her eyes. 

“Well you are going to have to go back in there tonight, because if you're not there to accept your award then it’ll make this whole thing that much worse.”

Candance’s phone buzzes in her jacket pocket furiously, she doesn’t even move to get it though because she knows exactly what’s going to be there when she turns it on. She has never in her life wished she could disappear without a trace more than this moment. She looks back towards the door, knowing that Fiona’s right, but the instinct to turn and run flashes through her mind multiple times. 

She turns back to the two women standing in front of her and tucks a hair behind her ear, “They could posthumously take away the award for being a crybaby.”

“Posthumously means you have to be dead.” 

“I might as well be,” She groans loudly, “From now on I am going to be known as the girl who got her heart broken by the bad boy and then lost her shit about it on the vinyls, that’s the kind of thing that follows someone around.” 

Neither of them can quite argue with that. She knows that she has to go back in, but standing out here for as long as she possibly can allows her to convince herself that she doesn’t have to. That she can just wander off into the distance, go home and shut herself into her apartment for the next three and half days, or longer if no one comes to physically drag her out. 

“I’ll go back in,” She says, like it’s even a choice, “But I’m going to stand in the back and I want out as soon as it’s possible.” Fiona nods, and turns back to typing something on her phone. Candance walks back into the building, avoiding eye contact with every single person who passes her by. She goes back to the dressing room and takes off the glittery outfit she performed in, putting back on the gold dress she showed up in, with its ribbon sleeves tied in bows where it meets her shoulder. As she looks in the mirror she’s silently thankful she’s never been one to wear mascara, because makeup dripping down her face is the last thing she needs. 

She stands at the back of the hall, thankful that everyone’s back’s are to her. Suddenly someone stands right next to her, and when she looks to see who it is she almost throws up right then and there. “What the fuck do you want?” She angrily whispers. 

Raleigh doesn’t look at her, he looks out at the room ahead of them and the announcer giving some speech about the next award. Candace looks behind her to see if anyone is looking at the two of them, because pictures of them together would put the icing on the cake of terrible things that could happen tonight. “What happened?” He asks, his voice genuine. 

“You fucking broke my heart,” She almost growls, “And now everyone knows that I am unstable.” 

“I’m sorry,” He says. 

“You say that now.” 

“I’ve always been sorry,” He says, finally turning to look at her. 

She doesn’t move, but something comes over her and she turns to look him right in the eyes again. Again tears start to prick in her eyes, and she wipes them again, cursing herself for crying at all the wrong times. “If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have been such an ass.” 

He looks embarrassed, “You were better off without me,” He says, “You still are.” 

“Because I’m doing great,” She grits her teeth and tries not to raise her voice. “You love to decide what people should think of you, decide what other people should do. Maybe once in a while you could get your head out of your own ass and let someone care about you for longer than a minute at a time.” 

He opens his mouth to say something but a sound from the front of the room stops the conversation. Up in front of the stage, the announcer says, “And for female artist of the year, Candace Dorian.” Candace rolls her eyes, suddenly very uninterested in having the eyes of the entire room again. She starts walking as soon as she hears her name, suddenly cognisant to the fact that she has a long way to go to get onto the stage, which is another awkward moment that no one wants tonight. 

She gets up onto the stage without a problem, and she’s not exactly nervous, just painfully aware that everyone knows what happened but she had to pretend like it didn’t happen at all. She takes the award from the hands of the presenter, and beams at the audience, “Thank you so much to everyone who has supported me and supported both of my albums. Music is everything to me, and I’m so grateful that I get to share it with everyone.” When she thinks it’s enough she walks off the stage. 

She gets another award that night, for song of the year and when that is over she’s in the car on the way home. It’s not that she’s ungrateful for winning, if the performance had gone off without a hitch then she would be on top of the world at the after party without a care in the world. Now she stands in the bathroom of her apartment, changing her clothes into the sweatpants she knows she’ll live in for the next few days. 

It’s when she’s finally laying on the couch, the newly delivered comfort food sitting on the table in front of her that she realizes that she misses him. That she wouldn't feel half as mad if she didn’t miss him so much, if she didn’t want him back so much that just looking at him makes her want to break down into tears. She feels stupid for even thinking that, because the way that it looks, the way it looks like he broke her heart and she took him back without even thinking about what kind of harm it could bring her. The whole world knows how much she wants him, and that feels like she’s shown her entire hand. 

A couple of hours later, someone knocks on the door and she doesn’t even move. She doesn’t want to talk to anyone, she doesn’t want anyone to even look at her. When the knocking doesn’t seem to stop, she begrudgingly gets up off the couch and opens the door. Of course, the person standing there is the last one she wants to see. 

“You were right.” 

“What do you want?” She groans. 

“You’re right,” He says again. “I pushed you away because I’m fucked up, and I convinced myself that you would be better off without me, because I love you so much that I don’t want to hurt you.” He rubs the back of his neck self consciously, “But it seems like I already did.” 

“No shit,” She deadpans, she knows she should feel something about this but the events of the night have made her numb. 

“I’m sorry,” He says, reaching out and taking her hand. 

She wants to scream, she wants to somehow shake herself back to life but she’s been so sad for so long that her body has all but shut down. Instead of being happy now she’s thinking about the fact that this will have to come out eventually, but not right away because it’s tentative. She wants something permanent, she wants him to say that she’ll stay because right now it feels like the only feeling that's permanent is the one where she longs for him even when he’s technically hers. 

“I love you too,” She says, “But I can’t do this if it’s going to be the same thing. I was always so afraid that you would leave me, even when you were standing right in front of me, and then you left and I didn’t think I would ever be able to get over it.” She stops talking suddenly because she doesn’t know how to say it, she doesn’t know how to tell him that she wants him so badly but at the same time she’s scared to let him in again. 

“The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” He says, taking advantage of the lapsed into silence, “I never wanted to hurt you, but you were right I was being selfish.” He sighs, and then looks at her for a long time, “I came here to try and not do the same shit I always do. I came here to tell you that I’m not going to leave you, I’m not going to make choices that affect us without telling you and I came here to tell you that I love you. I love you so much and seeing you cry because of me was the worst thing.” 

“You really did make me cry in front of millions of people.” 

“I’m never going to be able to live that one down, am I?” 

She pulls him in for a kiss, which turns out to be everything she’s been missing and more, and then says, “No,” still smiling, “But I still love you.” 

And that’s all he needs to hear.