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aconstantstateofbladerunner · 2 years

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I think you mentioned it a few times... But can we get a peak at anything left on the cutting room floor for Dekugate? Notes, cut contact, ect? If you feel okay with that! I just love this story and wanna see all your thoughts on it, even what didn't make the cut. Kinda like dvd extras I guess ahahh.

HOWEVER I get you cut some things for a reason and know how tumbler can be and don't want drama, so it's cool if you just don't feel comfortable with that.

There are two main story elements that got cut.

The first one is that there was originally going to be more of a subplot around Izuku having crushes on both Uraraka and Aoyama. I say ‘crushes,’ but it was closer to what it ended up being where he’s not sure how to feel about them or the idea of being close like that with anyone. When Izuku learned about dekugate, the internal conflict would shift to how his toxic fans would treat them. They’d hate Uraraka for being a girl since aggressive shippers tend to view male/female relationships as inherently lesser, but with Aoyama, they’d just be fetishized. But i worried that having overt shipping stuff like that would overwrite the focus on the fic in the minds of readers; the relationships would be seen as what’s at stake instead of Izuku’s mental health on its own. When I decided to cut it down from a subplot into a background detail, I favored the Uraraka parts because they fit neatly into the more misogyny-focused critiques. And why did I end up focusing on that part? For one, as a female-bodied person, misogyny, particularly misogyny coming from other women, is something I have more experience in and thus felt I had more to say. That, and I worried that even if i made careful critiques about how women in fandom often fetishize gay men via reductive stereotypes and how applying that fandom behavior to real life people can cause harm, people would just see it as “ew gay ships are bad.” If I were to ever do some kind of follow up, I’d give more time to the fetishization side of things.

The second major cut was a lot more detail about the backstory of Toshi and Inko’s relationship, as well as an expository dump of refutations for every single insane thing the dekugaters claimed. Most of it was stuff so obvious, it really didn’t need to be spelled out, (why aren’t they holding hands and smiling in every photo? because no one smiles and holds hands at every single moment, even two people in love.) The rest was either shaved down to just the most relevant bits, or left to implication.

I’ll summarize the highlights under the cut:

- Toshinori was interested in Inko right away since by that point, he was the symbol of peace and constantly surrounded by hero worship. Between being a naturally anxious person and the paranoia that comes with fame, he didn’t think it was possible for anyone to ever fall for the real him. Then he met Inko, someone who called him a show-boating poser to his face, and fell head over heels right there.

- It’s only hinted at briefly in the fic itself, but Toshi didn’t come from a great home. His hang ups about Izuku being named after someone came from the fact that he himself was named after a great grandfather in an attempt by Toshi’s mother to appease his anger for having a kid out of wedlock, with an American tourist no less. He was already looked down on by his conservative family for being illegitimate, but once his mother ‘properly’ married and starting having more kids, they emotionally neglected him even more. By the time he moved out to live with Gran Torino, they barely noticed he was gone.

- Inko’s biological parents were a low-level thug for hire who bounced between gangs, and her mother was a sex worker who gave her up for adoption, then later died of an overdose when Inko was a toddler. None of this was particularly relevant for Inko growing up, but the dekugaters would eventually dig up the records and use them to fling accusations. But until then, Inko had a fairly normal childhood all things considered. She didn’t bounce around foster families too often, and the ones she had were good people. Mitsuki was in the same home as her for a few years, and they kept in touch after she was adopted.

- Inko’s hero’s journey began when she was eleven. She and some friends stopped at a convenience store to grab some snacks after school, when a villain took the whole place hostage. Nobody was hurt, but it took almost two hours for any heroes to even show up, during which Inko thought she was going to die. Afterward, she needed to know why it took so long for help to come. This was a time before heroes were on every street corner, and her neighborhood was outside of the nearest agencies’ ranges. She decided to fill in the gap herself.

- Her UA career wasn’t all that eventful. She got into the hero course by using her quirk to pull all the bolts out of the robots, but she didn’t make it to the tournament stage of the sports festival until her third year, at which point she was eliminated in the first round. Instead of going straight into hero work, she went to college to study management and urban engineering so she would have everything she needed to run a self-sufficient hero agency. Before the dekugaters, she had plans to construct a new agency building that doubled as a community center.

- One of the big dekugate brain rot posts i eliminated before writing was a timeline breaking down Inko’s pregnancy to ‘prove’ it was fake, complete with the exact date they believed izuku would have been conceived on and it’s impossible because All Might was seen doing something else not with Inko that day. This is unfortunately based on real posts. But since I cut it, it didn’t need it’s refutation, which is that the dekugaters’ stalking isn’t as accurate as they think. Their dates were top to bottom wrong, with inko becoming pregnant way later than they thought and Izuku being born prematurely.

- Their dating timelines were also screwed up, but mostly because they refused to believe All Might would commit to anyone so fast when ‘they were barely seen together’ aka if something doesn’t appear on social media, it doesn’t exist.

- Izuku still went to Aldera in this universe for 3 reasons: it’s in the neighborhood his Mom works in and he wanted the chance to see her on action walking to and from school; he still saw Bakugou as his only friend and he wanted to have someone he knew at his first public school experience; he played down all the bullying and quirkless discrimination to his parents until after he let for UA, otherwise they would have homeschooled him again and he didn’t want to be isolated anymore.

- izuku’s UA experience up to the point of the fic has been largely unchanged from canon. This is because this is supposed to be a small, self-contained fic and it’s a lot easier for readers to understand when the conspiracy posts reference canon events.

- Melissa does know about the conspiracy, but just the part about her dad and uncle being together, none of the fake kid stuff around Izuku. But because most of that fandom likes her, not many people have been obnoxious enough for her to think it runs any deeper than a few overzealous shippers.

If there are any other weird conspiracy claims from the fic you want context for, just let me know

#answers #dekugate

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tootiredmotel · 3 years

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Give him the real thing

For @floral-cas 's event!!! First time writing from an outsider/oc's pov so bear with me. Huge huge congrats on your milestone K!!! You are a PILAR of this lil community and we all love you 💚🌺💚🌺💚🌺

Read on ao3. 1.7k words

"Alright, uh… confession. I got no idea what I'm doin' here."

He looked around the shop like a monster was about to pop out of any corner. Like the carnations were going to bite him and the pots lined up on the windowsill next to them would come to life and crush his feet. The poor guy looked terrified, but it's nothing Maya hadn't handled before.

"That's what I'm here for. What's your name?" She asked, sensing they'd be there a while.

"Dean."

On any other day, Maya would've been resenting a burly, middle-aged guy with no idea what he wanted coming into the shop twenty minutes before closing, especially on a Thursday. Jade had their A.A. meetings on Thursdays so Maya was alone for the evening. But this Dean guy? He looked so lost, so nervous, so utterly out of place. There was something else about him that made her want to help, too. Maya wasn't sure what, but she'd figure it out.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Maya. Let's start with this: why are you here today, Dean?"

"Anniversary tomorrow."

Concise and to the point. Maya made a mental note. She also noted how he wiped his palms on his jeans and clenched his jaw. Nerves.

"How many years have you been together?"

That got a smile out of him. "A lot. A whole lot. But this is, uh. First wedding anniversary."

She donned a wide smile. "Congratulations. That's wonderful."

"Yeah. Thanks, thank you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, still not meeting her eyes.

"Doing anything special?"

"Nothin' fancy. My brother and his wife are taking the kiddo for the night so, picnic in the backyard, lookin' at the stars, all that cheesy romantic crap."

His words didn't match his tone. It was evident Dean was absolutely smitten, Maya recognized the look, and he was making an effort. He was filled to the brim with giddiness and adoration for this person, and it shone through from him just thinking about them. Jade still looked at Maya like that every morning and night, and so did Maya at them. Every day since freshman year of college. Maya's chest swelled.

"Thing is," Dean continued, a bit more relaxed now. "Cas knows all about this stuff. We got this huge garden behind the house that I'm not allowed to even touch. There's a million books about nature and trees and flower meanings on the shelf, and Cas has read all of 'em. I didn't even know flowers had meanings, I don't know jack shit about any of it, but…"

"You want to impress Cas."

"I wanna impress Cas. It's gotta be good."

"You've come to the right place then." Maya kept an eye on Dean as she circled the counter. He was studying the pride flags hanging in the window with a clenched jaw, and Maya went on alert. She pulled out the binder they kept in the drawer and plopped it down in front of him a little harder than she needed to, calling his attention. "My partner Jade is more of a nerd about this stuff than I am, but they made this for situations like these."

Dean read the cover, Jade and Maya's Quick Guide to Flower Meanings, and smiled. "Nice."

They spent forty-five minutes walking around the store, binder in hand, slowly constructing the message Dean wanted to convey with his bouquet. He was adamant on it containing blue, so Maya went for the Forget-me-nots first. “Love and hope,” said the binder, which she deemed fitting enough for a first wedding anniversary.

Dean looked like someone content with his life, and he agreed when Maya suggested they look under the happiness category. “Well, Cas makes me happy,” he said, and they settled on Felicias, also blue.

Dean eventually got comfortable enough and leaned over to look at the binder in Maya’s hands. “Think there’s anything in there for grace?”

Highly specific, but possible, Maya thought. “Let’s find out.”

And they did. Plumerias, white.

“Anything else?” She asked him. Dean donned a thousand-yard stare as he thought about it, and Maya figured this man had been through a lot. More than she could ever imagine. She was glad he’d found some peace.

“Freedom,” Dean said finally. Freesias, white as well.

It was an odd bouquet, Maya admitted, but Dean was an odd man, and he looked happy with it. He was still nervous, still out of his element, but there was more excitement in the twinkle of his eyes than anything else.

“Cas will love it,” Maya assured him, and he beamed. She still knew very little about this Cas person— Dean could speak a lot without really saying anything, careful and reserved, even dancing around using gendered pronouns for Cas, which Maya found interesting—, but she could see Dean was living a happy life as their husband. That was good enough for her.

“Here’s hoping,” he said as he handed over his credit card, but he seemed a lot more sure than hopeful. He knew Cas would like it, and Maya couldn’t help a sense of pride grow inside her. Dean also put some cash in the tip jar and left with a smile. A good day’s work, and maybe a new friend in town.

---

“Maya?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

Jade poked their head in the door, beaming at Maya as she ran the books in the back room.

"There's a gentleman asking for you."

"By name?"

Jade nodded. Maya sent them a questioning look, to which they just shrugged. If Jade wasn't all that worried about it, Maya supposed there was no reason for her to be either. She made her way out, squeezing Jade's hip as she passed them, and stepped up to the counter. The trenchcoat-clad man smiled at her.

"Maya?"

The depth of his voice caught her by surprise, but she recovered in time to reply "That's me."

The man smiled wider. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Cas. You might not remember, but last week you-"

"Did you say Cas?" Maya couldn't contain her interruption, or the eagerness as she asked: "Dean's Cas?"

Cas's smile widened even more, which she didn't think was possible. It was blinding, and Maya, even in all her queerness, could definitely understand what Dean saw in him. "That's right."

Dean’s fixation on blue flowers suddenly made sense too, as she noticed his eyes. "He adores you, you know. You're his heaven and earth."

Cas's smile faltered at her words, and Maya feared she'd said something wrong.

"I'm sorry if I'm overstepping."

“No, no, it’s alright.” He looked down at his wedding band, and his smile returned. “He’s all that and more to me.”

Cas stared at his ring for a second longer. It was silver and had a small blue gem embedded into it. Maya could swear it appeared to swirl with light.

“Dean spoke wonders of you,” she said.

He looked back up at her. “You, too.”

She blinked in surprise at that.

“I loved the bouquet. I thanked him for it, over and over, and every time he said you were the miracle worker. That he was clueless the whole time and couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s not true,” Maya deflected, a steady heat rising to her cheeks. “He had a pretty good idea of what he wanted. And, if anything, he and I couldn’t have done it without Jade’s expertise.” She gestured toward her partner, helping a customer at the other end of the shop, and also tapped the binder, which was out on the countertop today.

“Then I suppose I’m here to thank both of you.”

He reached into a tote bag that Maya hadn’t noticed he was carrying and pulled out a plastic container. “We run a small baking business out of our home. These are on me. Apple and honey tarts.” He placed the container in front of her. On top of it was a label that read D&C’s Pastries. “They are also gluten-free, just in case.“

“What’s going on?” Jade asked, approaching Maya’s side with an expectant smile.

“Jade, love, do you remember Dean? From last week?”

“You told me about him, yeah, wedding anniversary.”

“Well this is Cas,” she gestured to him.

“Dean's husband,” Cas interjected. Jade and Maya shared a knowing smile. “I just wanted to drop these off as a thank you for helping Dean. Apple and honey tarts, gluten-free.”

“That is so sweet of you,” Jade exclaimed, eagerly taking the pastries. Maya rolled her eyes fondly at the pun, which Cas didn’t seem to catch.

“I was just doing my job,” Maya said. “But thank you.”

“Papa!”

They all turned to the child, blond and adorable, running excitedly toward Cas. At the door, where the child came from, stood an exasperated Dean.

“Jack,” Cas started, scooping the child in his arms. Jack wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck. “I thought I told you and Daddy to wait for me at the café, I wasn’t going to be long.”

“He missed you. We both did,” Dean gazed at him as he approached. “Dude, what are you-”

Dean scanned over the scene he’d just walked into and seemed to realize what was happening.

“So that’s what the tarts were for. Hey, Maya.”

“Hi, Dean.”

“And you must be Jade,” Dean said, extending a hand toward them.

“Yes! Heard about you, nice to finally meet you, Dean.”

“You too. You and that book of yours are life-savers. If I’d known the tarts were for you guys, I would’a made more.”

“These are more than enough, thank you. In fact, here...” Maya turned to a vase of daisies they had on a shelf and pulled out three. “Now I feel like we’re even.”

“Not by a long shot,” Dean said as he took his flower and Cas’s. He put his behind his ear, and Cas’s in his trenchcoat’s lapel, as Maya handed Jack his own flower.

They all promised to not be strangers, and kept their promise. Dean and Cas would bring over baked goods, and in exchange, Jade and Maya would let them take home a potted plant for their garden. Jack would always leave with a small flower in his hand, a different one every time, wrapped in Cas’s arms as he explained the flower’s origins or symbolism to his son. Dean would be the last one out the door, always turning back and mouthing a “thank you” to Maya. Every time, without fail.

And every time, Maya would think that she wanted what they had. Happiness, peace, a family, unconditional and true love. And every time, she would look over at Jade, and know she was well on her way.

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jarofstyles · 4 years

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Teacher’s Pet

A/N: As requested, here is the first part of our professor!harry series. As usual, this we put our little twist on things and we hope that you enjoy! - n+d

send feedback and requests here

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warning: smut, mutual masturbation, use of sex toys

word count: 6.2k

While Harry tried not to show favoritism in his courses, it was hard not to be caring towards the students that showed effort but struggled. That was the case with little Y/N. She was young, pretty, had a bit of an edge to her. From what he had noticed she was kind and often let people borrow pens and once gave a diabetic classmate her muffin when she saw he was a bit pale and taking his blood sugar.

He wasn’t everyone’s favorite professor. He was a tough grader, had a bit of a resting ‘bitch’ face, and he wasn’t necessarily warm and fuzzy. It wasn’t what Harry wanted at all— but it had to be done so that the students wouldn’t just see him as a peer. He had learned that early in. He had to be strict and get respect or he would be stuck with slackers or people who thought he would ‘do them a solid’ as one student had tried to ask with a fist bump. But when it came to sweet students with dyed hair, a devastated little pout, and even watery eyes, he knew he would have to say something.

‘If you would like some help, please come to my office any time after 4. I would be happy to assist in figuring out the material.’

It was written next to a poor grade. He could tell that she had potential— she just wasn’t getting it. He also worried about her word usage. If what he thought of was correct, it would make sense why she was struggling.

School was never one of Y/N’s strong suits. From the beginning of her school career she struggled with getting the hang of concepts and her teachers grew a distaste for her because they thought she wasn’t trying. Y/N was a hard worker though, she did genuinely try, but her best was never enough. A few teachers pointed out that she might have a learning disability, but her parents denied that ever being a case. Her other siblings, both older and younger, were able to grasp concepts easily and were all incredible book smart in addition to being talented outside of school. It seemed that Y/N was just the bad apple of the bunch. Her parents would joke, but of course it hurt. She didn’t even want to go to college originally, but her parents forced her to at least try and get a degree so she wouldn’t be a low life. Y/N only agreed because they said they’d keep paying for her band. Of course, you can only really go to college if you pass though and Y/N wasn’t doing too well.

Professor Styles had always intimidated her, but he just took his job seriously. She could tell by the way he talked about everything that he was passionate about making sure people understood the deeper meaning behind these books and Y/N could appreciate that. It was just a shame that she struggled so much in his class. There were students that excelled in his classes and he was always giving them praise, little surprised smiles and nods, a small ‘good job’ or ‘correct, yes’ here and there. Y/N found herself wanting to try harder in his classes just to get a praise out of him, but she was too nervous to raise her hand even when she did know the answer. This was her third time getting a not so passing grade in this class and Y/N was growing more and more frustrated. She understood the material, or she felt like she did, but whenever it came to reading and remembering, she found herself getting stuck. Little frustrated tears formed in her eyes but she blinked them away, thinking she wasn’t going to muster up the courage to see him today.

But she did.

He had a soft spot for the students that he helped. It was human nature to care for those you spent time with. It wasn’t like how he thought about Y/N though. Okay— he knew it was bad. But he was intrigued by her. Why? He wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly what it was. Maybe her edgy look, maybe it was because she was seemingly submissive and every time he caught her eye she looked like a deer in headlights. She stares at him a lot, he could notice that. But he likes it. So he was pleasantly surprised when she came to his office, looking skittish but also curious. She needed help and he would offer it to her.

“Y/N, it’s nice to see you.” Harry adjusted his glasses and sat up straighter, putting the final mark on a test before looking back up at her with a gentle smile. He had to approach with caution, she already looked like she was going to shit herself. “I’m glad you got my note and weren’t offended. But I was wondering if you’d like some help.” He didn’t say what because he wanted her to tell him what exactly she was struggling with.

Y/N was very nervous, mostly because she didn’t like asking for help from anyone. She didn’t like to seem unintelligent in front of men, especially when they were as attractive as Professor Styles. All the girls on campus talked about how hot he was, how his dominance was a turn on and how none of them were properly able to focus in class. At least they were getting passing grades.

“Hi, professor...” Y/N said softly and closed the door behind her before taking a seat. “I, um... I’m not really good with asking for help.” She explained, pushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear before fixing her septum piercing. Y/N was playing with the hem of her skirt, one of her fingers playing with the fishnet stockings she had on. “I feel like I understand when you’re explaining it and then I go and take the test and it’s like I can’t remember anything you said. But I’m not good at academics anyway so...” Y/N let out a sad chuckle. Her self confidence was pretty low in all aspects, it was a shame because she was a pretty girl. She didn’t seem to think so, hence why she dressed up. At least her clothes she could control.

“Now, don’t say that.” Harry tutted. “I’m sure that’s not true. I bet you just have a different way of learning. If you understand verbally, but freeze when it’s written, that may be the case.” He hummed, flipping through the last work she had handed in. “My question is... it isn’t meant to offend you at all. But do you find difficulty in reading itself?” He approached it gently. You’d be surprised how many adults realize later on in life that they have dyslexia. They were labeled as not the smartest but he was because it took so long for them to understand because the words and numbers get jumbled up. “I’m asking because I notice in your writings, you spell things in a unique way. Or it seems the letters are flipped. This isn’t to embarrass you so please don’t be upset— we just need to figure out why it is that you struggle with the tests.” He leaned forward on his desk, licking over his bottom lip. She was beautiful. In that way when women didn’t know they were beautiful. He wished he could see more of her body— fuck, not going there. Absolutely not. Even though technically it wasn’t like he would be fired, seeing as half the damn staff fucks students. It was always that forbidden element. Either way, he was far too much for this sweet thing to handle. “I would like to help you if you would let me do so.”

Y/N felt really anxious, bouncing her leg to try and keep her composure. She didn’t think she was smart. She wasn’t good at math, wasn’t good at science, she was decent at English but even that seemed to be difficult now that she was reading classics that were barely in modern English. She just decided that learning wasn’t for her.

“I’m not a reader, no.” She shook her head, Y/N found herself having trouble focusing for a long time and when it came to reading words get jumbled up and she struggled a lot. Especially when she started thinking about it too much. Of course Y/N was embarrassed even though he said he wasn’t trying to embarrass her. It was more just her feeling incompetent. She didn’t like making eye contact with him for too long because she felt like he was staring straight into her soul. She was a bit shy and timid when it came to new people. She appreciated that he wasn’t judging her though. “I don’t know what you could do to help, but if you’d like to try we can? I—I don’t want to waste your time.”

“There’s no wasting time if it helps improve your learning, yeah? Please don’t think of yourself like that. You are an important person, just as important as my other students. I want you to succeed.” Harry promised. It kind of broke his heart that she was so sure that her time with him would be wasted. It made him sad that she felt that way. Why? “How about we set up a time... let’s say two days a week? I have time around now, so 4:15 to 5 where I can help you.” He normally wouldn’t do it for most but he wasn’t going to let her suffer. A passion project, so to speak. “I don’t know your schedule but I would be here during that time normally. I basically live in this office anyways.” He smiled in a joking way. “We can work on understanding first what was wrong and then we can have time to work on the new material.”

Y/N nodded her head in agreement, but it did make her worry. Of course she could only try her best but she was so used to failing that she wasn’t sure how much harder she could try. She was barely passing her other classes and frankly she was thinking about dropping out all together. Maybe she was the lowlife her parents made her out to be?

“Can do... Monday’s and Thursday’s..” Y/N told him, “if that’s okay, I have band practice on Wednesday’s.” She wasn’t sure why’s she told him but part of it was to show that she wasn’t just a stupid girl that she did have some talent or at least she thought she did. “It’s um... it’s really nice of you to do this, thank you.” She told him genuinely, though she was terrified of letting him down. He seemed so cool. He wasn’t like this in his classes, he seemed much more approachable this way. Maybe in another life they could have been friends or more than that... no, he probably wasn’t into girls like her. She needed a cigarette.

“Of course. You have my email if you need to reschedule.” But he could see right through her. Of course he could. “But... if you’re nervous, tell me. I can soothe the worries. I’ll be awfully disappointed if you don’t show up and don’t let me know.” He knew she was skittish. He didn’t want her to back out and not take the time to try at the very least. “Let’s just work on it a day at a time. I hope to see you soon.”

When she walked out, he was ashamed to say he was entranced by her ass. He was such a bastard for thinking about a student like that. So bad. But it didn’t stop him from seeing her eyes when he fucked his fist later that night.

----

The next couple of days left Y/N worried. Coming out of professor Styles’ office had left her feeling on edge, wondering if it was even worth trying. She felt like nothing would save her at this point but this was going to be her last attempt. If it didn’t work out she’d just drop out and couch surf. But she didn’t want to have to do that, her kitty Jinx would have to find a new home and that was something she certainly didn’t want. It was Monday and Y/N didn’t go to her classes today, feeling like it was justified because she was meeting with Professor Styles today.

If she was going to work on herself she wanted to be in the best shape possible, so she smoked some weed in the morning to get her day off right and got her things together before getting her skateboard and making her way to his office.

Harry was pleased when she actually showed up at his office. He was half expecting her to drop his class with how terrified she had seemed the past time, and he was curious to see how she had thought about what her grades and his revisions on her test. He had worn a dark red button up today with suspenders, his blazer off and hair a tiny bit messy. His glasses hung off the end of his nose while he looked up at her with surprise, before a smile came on his face.

“Y/N! I’m very glad to see you’ve come.” He hummed, sitting up and leaning back in his chair. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Would you like a water?” He had a mini fridge in his office. Without listening to an answer, he pulled one out anyways and handed it to her, rounding the desk so he seemed less scary. The desk was a position of power. One he loved, but also didn’t want to take advantage of when Y/N obviously was terrified of it. “Alright. So... you’ve seen my revisions?” He sat on the other arm chair across from the couch, glasses pushed up now with his copy of her paper. “Good. What do you think about your mistakes? Were they because you didn’t understand the material, or didn’t know what to say in paper?”

Y/N gave him a small smile, setting her skate board up against the side wall before taking a seat on the couch. No amount of weed could have calmed her down, she wasn’t even that high anymore it was just the residual feeling. Right now, she was more concerned about having to tell him what was going on inside her mind when she was working on assignments.

“I—I um... both?” She felt a blush creeping in on her cheeks. “I tried to like... watch videos about it, cause whenever I try to read I just get frustrated.” Y/N explained fiddling with the paper. She didn’t like this feeling, it was obvious that it was something that made her emotional which was why she didn’t really talk about it. She let out a breath, looking over what she wrote and seeing all the red pen. It made her want to crawl up into a ball despite how nice he was being. He was trying and so she would also try her best to keep it together. “I find it really hard to focus..”

“I don’t doubt that you do, Y/N. I’m thinking that maybe this isn’t something to do with your focus, but maybe it’s with your reading? You could learn differently than other people and that's absolutely alright.” Harry felt poorly that she was so sad and embarrassed about it. “Look at me.” When she didn’t respond he was trying a different tactic. Soft but very obviously meaning business. “There we are. Now, this doesn’t mean you’re stupid or unable to learn or do well in my class. You just may need to learn differently.” He stood up and grabbed a book from his shelf. “So this book— I got it online. It has some illustrations in it, and I find they’re pretty self explanatory. Maybe this will help you understand it better. Having an image opposed to words in your mind.” He handed it to her. She didn’t need to know he had bought it himself.

Y/N glanced up at him as he told her to look at him, seeing his face go much softer but his eyes still held that same intensity. She followed his with her eyes as he went to get the book. It was much thicker than the others due to all the illustrations but of course it made her feel like a little kid again. She just wished she could be normal.

“Okay...” She said softly, willing to try anything at this point. Of course she was nervous about going forward with his class seeing as she knew things would only get more difficult. Y/N gave him a small thank you as she looked through the book but part of her felt like it wasn’t going to work. No one was determined in helping her learn, they never have been. She’d always gotten very poor, passing grades because she assumed teachers felt bad for her or knew her siblings and assumed maybe she was just the rebellious one. “Sometimes I feel like I do better on the essays, cause I feel like I get it... but I end up getting better grades on the tests than the essays and it’s... disheartening.” She explained with a small frown, “cause I guess on the tests a lot of the time.”

He furrowed his brows, listening to what Y/N had to say. It made sense if she had dyslexia that she would be frustrated and upset with learning altogether but it was important to her and him as well, that she was able to do what she was meant to do. Whatever it was she had wanted.

“I think you should outline your essays more. Each body paragraph, with reasoning and thought. Come up with 4 to 6 reasons for each, word them how it makes sense to you, and write it that way. The structure taught isn’t the only way to do it.” He explained. Writing down on a piece of notebook paper an example of how she could do it. “I know it must be very frustrating— especially if it’s been years that you’ve had to deal with this. I understand. But I do have faith that you’re able to do this. You are intelligent, Y/N. You just have to figure out the right way to show it.”

Y/N let out a sigh, swallowing thickly as he gave her some advice on how to structure her essays in a way that would make more sense. She would try her best, especially with knowing that he was going to be grading things knowing what her situation was. Y/N was going to try her best to sound smart or collected, but she will admit she hadn’t been paying attention for years.

She pulled out a folder of her English work, pulled out the notes she had taken and the lay out for her essays and bit the inside of her lip. Y/N handed it to him and immediately went to pay with her own fingers. Observing him as he looked through what she had done previously.

“I—I try my best, I really do.. but anytime I get the courage to try it just gets worse and I go back to not trying at all because at least then I know I’m failing cause I’m doing it on purpose and not cause I’m stupid.” Y/N was trying to share her feelings to try and make him understand. “‘s really intimidating being in class with people who pick up information easily and I end up just tuning out cause it’s too fast for me to follow... and I don’t want to be that one girl that holds up the whole class with a stupid question.”

“You aren’t. If you have a question that you aren’t comfortable asking in front of everyone, you are always welcome to email me or come to my office at any time I’m here.” Harry promised. Poor girl. Jesus, what happened to her to make her self esteem like this? “You are very capable. Very much a smart girl. You need to tap into different areas of your brain. I promise, we can get your grade up together, alright?” He felt softness and fondness because he knew that sometimes professors weren’t the most understanding. Granted, he was only like this towards students that came for help— and oddly, even more so towards her, but still. “You don’t have to stop trying. You just need a different approach and we can help you find the right one. Do you like movies?” He suddenly remembered that. At her confused look, he continued. “Movies are scripts. Books. Visual. Do you find it easy to follow along with movies?”

She found it hard to believe him because no one really called her smart, ever. Y/N gave him a small smile and nodded her head, pushing pieces of hair away from her face before nodding and realizing she reversed the work she’d just done. He was a very nice man, it was clear that he was committed to helping her and it was definitely appreciated. She just didn’t know why he believed in her so much when no one else did?

“Well yeah... I can follow conversation and stuff.” Y/N let out a small chuckle, sniffling a bit before she continued. “I think another problem is I get too confused about things like.. the deeper meaning stuff in books. Like the themes and whatever you call it. Cause in my head I know what I think it means but then it’s meant to mean something else and then I think I just didn’t understand correctly.” Y/N was definitely more of a creative. She didn’t like following set rules, she liked going with the flow and following her own thing. It worked when it came to her music, she was able to focus then. But she taught herself guitar.

“I think that you need to first take the book at face value. Don’t look for the hidden meanings the first time you read because it will confuse you more.” Harry cleared his throat. She smelled really good. Like peaches and citrus. He wondered if her bed smelled like that, but stronger.

“Tell me some things you like.” He leaned back into the seat. “Things you think we can connect to projects. You said you’re in a band? Have a band?” He remembered that from last time. At her nod he continued. “You can find a song or make a playlist of songs that connect your head to the book. Say... Romeo and Juliet. Hmm.. check yes Juliet, We The Kings. If you’ve heard of that. You can find songs that help you remember.”

“Yeah, I’m in a band.” Y/N nodded her head a bit at him, “it’s like a indie punk thing...” She wasn’t sure what kind of music he listened to but he seemed young enough to think that indie music was good. Who knows, maybe he was one of those jazz guys with all the sweaters he wears. Y/N wasn’t one to judge though. The check yes Juliet reference made her chuckle, remembering middle school and highschool momentarily. He couldn’t be that much older then. “Yeah, I know that song.” She giggled and shook her head, “but yeah, I understand.” She spoke and took note of that in her mind. Y/N didn’t know how she was meant to explain to him that she spent the rest of her free time doing drugs. Tripping and writing music, hanging out with her kitty. That’s about it. Skating, going out in nature. Fucking. She definitely was a bit of a nympho. She assumed it was because of her need for attention.

“Okay. That’s good then. Use that to try and correlate.” He had felt weird watching her leave the room, seemingly in a better mood than she had been before but still nervous. It didn’t help that he hadn’t gotten laid and didn’t really want to have sex with someone else right now. God, if only he could spread her open and dip his cock into her soft cunt. That’s something he was dreaming of.

He thought about it the next night too. So, with his bored and needy thoughts, he went home and did his chores he needed to do, before he went to lay in his bed with his laptop. To be honest. Most porn didn’t do it for him. He much preferred erotic writing or even more so, cam girls. Sex workers deserved support and he always tipped well, though rarely talking in any of them. He was scrolling down the alternative tab when he found what he was looking for. Tattoos and plump lips, tits for a profile photo and a tongue sticking out. Interesting— and she was live.

He just never expected the exact woman in his head to be placed on the screen, smoke coming from her mouth.

Fuck.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure how she thought about starting camming but it all sort of just fell into place. She started off just selling her nudes and videos for attention and money but then she realized that people would pay really good money to watch live stuff. It’s a good thing too because Y/N loved being watched. Her cams were usually regularly scheduled, but other times they were spontaneous because she was really horny. bbybunnie was her username, most people just called her pet names though, never by her actual name for obvious security reasons. She had quite the following too. People seemed to love her content. She was fun and bubbly and she felt like she put in a great show both literally and physically. Y/N had just done a bong rip, having her windows open to let the smoke out. She didn’t like smoking around Jinx so she’d let her in once she was properly stoned. She was dressed in a black crop top that said princess on it in gothic font, fishnets, and little black panties.

“Been really stressed lately with college and stuff...” Y/N answered a previous question as to what she’d been up to. “Working on assignments in stuff but it gets hard.” She pouted, turning her head when she heard Jinx scratching at the door. “One second.” She giggled and went to grab Jinx, leaving the door open so she could roam. “Here she is, say hi to everyone.” Y/N cooed in a baby voice. It was quite the sight. An alternative girl all soft with her cat, just starting the broadcast. Her vibrator was clearly in frame, already plugged in. A subscriber bought a heavy duty one for her.

And Harry should have clicked off. Right away, he should have exited the screen and said ‘gotta go’ because this was his student. His student he tutored and had fucking come on here to jerk off to a look alike. But he couldn’t. Not finally getting a look at her body. Soft and curved and delicious. Her tits strained the tank top and little tiny panties, some fishnets. Jesus fucking Christ. He let out an audible moan as he watched her sit back on the bed, talking back and forth with some of the comments.

He wasn’t sure what made him comment.

DaddyH: you look beautiful. I love the fishnets.

She did. And he loved them. A lot of the comments were dirtier but not to the point he could see it turning a woman on. He didn’t get an associates in sexology for nothing.

Y/N was pretty good with responding to comments, they were paying after all, but a lot of them were much nicer than most would think. Her community was used to her streams taking a bit to get going because she liked to get super horny, so once she was properly high she usually talked with her comments about things she’s been fantasizing about and what they’d like to see her do.

DaddyH. He was new.

“Hi daddyh, thank you! You’re new aren’t you?” Y/N said with an excited smile, she liked newcomers. It meant someone was interested in her. “Well we’ve got a special show on our hands then.” Her viewers loved when new people came because the shows were always better. She was visibly hornier. She shifted a little bit so she was leaning farther back on her pillows, bringing her legs up and out so she was spreading like a little butterfly. Of course the panties kept things covered but not much. Y/N pulled them up so they were tight on her, “Gotta get me real wet first, yeah?” She hummed, “love knowing you’re watching me... love when you tell me what you like...” It was strategic to talk dirty as if she was talking to one specific person.

Fuck shit motherfucker. Fuck.

Harry didn’t even see her pussy fully yet and he was nearly drooling. What the fuck had he done in what past life to get this type of luck? He wasn’t sure but he did know that whatever he did, he was thankful. He got a good look at her, her lusty eyes. He was a dirty talker. He loved to sex— fuck the English teacher in him. He loved making women a mess of whines and slick and speaking their darkest fantasies into their ears as the writhe underneath him. Y/N would be a fun one to play with. For sure.

DaddyH: you could play over the panties. They’re cute.

He had a thing for panties and fishnets, and she was going right to his kinks.

“But that’s no fun.” Y/N pouted at the comment, wiggling her panties a little bit so she could rub against her clit some. She let out a tiny moan and hummed, letting her hands move up her body to squeeze her tits through her shirt. She was properly eye fucking the camera too, teasing as she started to pull up her shirt. “I’m frustrated, daddy...” Usually she waited till she got a certain number of tips before she took her clothes off, but she was only a few dollars away so she pulled off her shirt revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The tightness of the tank top kept them up, but these men seemed to love natural tits. Her hand slipped down to start rubbing over her clit over top her panties, letting out little breathy moans of pleasure. “Really want to be fucked...” She explained, “Wanna be full...” Y/N pouted and quickened her pace.

“Bent over a desk.”

Harry had a big oak desk he could bend her over and absolutely destroy her. If that’s something she would want. Harry would wreck her. His hand palmed Over his cock as he took her in and looked at her tits. He was an everything man but tits? He could happily suck on hers for an hour and make marks all over, just to listen to her mewl and feel her on his tongue. He squeezed over his sweatpants, feeling himself heat up as he watched her. She was topless, his student. His student was topless and rubbing her clit over tiny little panties, giving a pout and looking at the camera too fucking similar to the way she looked at him in his office today. And while his rational mind knew he wouldn’t be able to look at her the same— he would want to fuck her even more than he had— he couldn’t stop watching.

It was clear that Y/N’s interactions with Harry had spilt over into her mind while she was getting into it. It was that intense stare that he had, his ringed hands, of course there was also the tone of his voice. How he asked her to look at him that one time. She could only imagine him asking her much rougher and in a deeper voice.

“Daddy...” She whimpered out, teasing her own self over her panties as she read over the comments. Y/N giggled are some, loving he praise if men calling her cute and telling her she was pretty and her moans were turning them on. She went and took off her panties cause she really couldn’t take it anymore, revealing her fishnet covered cunt. “Want a better view, hmm?” Y/N smirked, moving to rip them right over the crotch so everyone could see. “I’m so fuck wet for you... look..” She said all excited, pulling her fingers back to show the strings of wetness on her fingers.

Harry was in heaven. Truly. Or hell, because he wasn’t able to be the one ripping the fishnets up and fucking her in them. Her thighs looked soft and delicate and probably so easily bruised. He could do some incredible work down there.

DaddyH: Lick it clean, sweetheart. I know it’s sweet.

There was no way she wasn’t so sweet that his teeth would fill with cavities. No way. He wanted her taste all over his tongue. He was a very giving dom, very much eager to make his lovers cum again and again and again so long as they complied with his soft rules. It wasn’t difficult.

Y/N’s stomach filled with warmth as she read over the comment, bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking on them properly as if they were a cock. She was starting to like the Daddyh character. He was so sweet and polite in his choice of words, paid well. What was there not to like? She removed her fingers from her mouth giggling a little bit as she decided to show off some more. Y/N pushed the laptop back a bit, turning so they could see her ass and how she arched her back for them relieving that she’d had a butt plug in the whole time. Sleek and black with a little gem at the end. A lot of the things she had were gifts from subscribers. She had an Amazon wishlist specifically set up for them as well as a regular P.O. Box that then routed to her home. She had tons of back up fishnets, some used ones she sold online as well. Lots of other things. She quite enjoyed it.

When did she put that in? Harry needed to know. Was she wearing that when she was sat on his fucking couch? He would surely lose his goddamn mind if that was the case.

He tipped her $50, asking the question he needed the answer to.

DaddyH: Have you been wearing that all day, pretty girl?

The idea of her squirming in class occurred to him. And then the idea of a little vibrator inside of her that he had the remote to, pressing it on to see her reactions. He would buy her one, fuck. He would buy this girl anything if it meant getting to see her squirm and hear her beg him to let her cum.

Y/N wiggled her bum a bit, turning on her back again with a hum. “I’ve been wearing it all day...” She nodded, reaching over for her vibrator because she really couldn’t wait anymore. Everyone who streamed her knew she was impatient, sometimes if they paid a good amount she’d wait and tease herself first but she was needy today. She just kept thinking about professor Styles. “‘m so needy... been so horny lately, might be on for a while.” Y/N blushed, “or I’ll film some special requests on my onlyfans...” She smirked because she knew she would get lots of money for men begging her to stay but loads for custom content too. Y/N turned the vibrator on it’s lowest setting, starting to move it down on to her cunt where she let out a pleaser sigh. “I wanna cum so bad... just wanna cum.” She pleaded, reading to see what everyone was saying. Y/N turned it up a few notches, letting out a content sigh as she moved it over a specific spot. The feeling was indescribable and the noises that left her just showed how relieved she was.

Harry nearly fell over. Her ass was stuffed when she sat on his couch— and it wasn’t from his cock. Harry particularly loved anal, it was a very hot thing to him and the fact she hadn’t been warming his cock like that was near criminal. Truly.

“Sweet Jesus.” He breathed, finally taking himself out of his pants. Spitting thick on to the head, he spread it over his cock and waited for her to continue. She had an onlyfans? He would be subscribing and buying content. He didn’t give a fuck. He wanted it and it would be the best way to keep her close but far. He was watching how her legs trembled and her mouth fell open at the feeling, her body arching into the buzzing of the vibrator. Oh, how he would hold it against her and finger her until she squirted all over the bed and make her clean it up with her tongue. He was a sexual man but kinky more than anything. The idea of it all... it was so hot and wrong and taboo and it was even better in his cock’s mind that she was a no go zone. Made it hotter.

DaddyH: you’ve got such a pretty pussy. How many times can you cum?

Y/N read his comment and let out a whine, turning up the vibrator a few settings higher once again so she could get even closer to her brink of orgasm. “Let’s find out.” She breathed out and continued to crank up the settings. The closer she got the more she thrashed and bucked her hips both up and away from the vibrator. She was very enjoyable to watch she’s been told, specifically because she just couldn’t keep her mouth shut and that she was willing to take a lot. Y/N must have sat there for a few hours just making herself cum over and over again, both with the vibrator and the dildo she had. Once she was all fucked out, 5 orgasms deep, she just laid there and watched the comments roll in. She giggled at a few, breathing heavily as she slowly walked herself down from the blissful headspace she was in. “Thank you, I’m feeling so much better...” Y/N cooed, giving them a smile. “Have a good day or night!” And with that she’d logged off, happy that she had made a new regular.

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

[part 2]

A/N: bet you weren’t expecting that huh? 😈 and yes!! punk!y/n - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles smut #professor!harry #professor!h #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction

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nevermindirah · 3 years

Text

Non-Jewish friends, y’all might be wondering right now: Israel is doing clearly unacceptable shit to Palestinians. So, why are some Jews ardent Zionists, and why do some Jews seem to feel personally attacked by criticism of Israel?

A lot of (non-Palestinian) non-Jews have asked me where I stand on Israel/Palestine over the years, apropos of nothing, just because I’m Jewish. For the longest time I felt so stuck because I just didn’t know much about Israel/Palestine and what little I did know turned out to be largely misinformation and I felt so much pressure to say The Correct Thing That All Jews Should Say About This Issue. Obviously the violence Israel is committing against Palestinians is horrific and the interpersonal weirdness individual Jews might experience as people discuss Israel’s horrific violence doesn’t compare. I’m making this post as a small supplement to the important conversations going on about what Israel is doing to Palestinians in East Jerusalem, Gaza, and the West Bank, as well as Palestinian citizens of Israel and Palestinian refugees and their descendants living outside land Israel controls. I’m making this post because non-Jews might be feeling confused by conflicting messages about Zionism as either settler colonialism or Jewish self-determination. It sucks feeling like you have to choose only one oppressed group or another. It’s possible to support Palestinian liberation and Jewish liberation at the same time! Here’s some context that might help.

Palestinian friends will probably want to ignore this post, y’all shouldn’t have to deal with your oppressors’ feelings, and especially not right now.

Zionism is the ideology behind the devastating violence Israel is committing against Palestinians right now and has been committing against Palestinians since 1947-48. It’s heartbreaking and messy to talk about this reality, because Zionism originated as a strategy to protect Jews from antisemitism.

Any oppressed group can turn into oppressors under enough pressure, because humans are flawed. Jews fleeing antisemitism turning into Israelis ethnically cleansing Palestinians happened because Zionism is profoundly influenced by its time and place of origin: 19th century Europe.

Europe invented antisemitism, and basically every European country has done at least one very very bad structural antisemitism, like expelling all the country's Jews (the monarch and/or the church then stole all the wealth the expelled people had to leave behind), looking the other way when peasants murdered a bunch of Jews as an outlet for their frustration with the actual (non-Jewish) ruling class, banning Jews from owning property or holding certain jobs or being members of guilds etc, and of course the big horrific state-sponsored mass-murder operations the Inquisition and the Holocaust. From the 1790s through the 19th century different European governments emancipated their Jews, ie removed legal barriers to full citizenship and economic participation. But this didn't end antisemitism. Just like the legal improvements of the 19th and 20th centuries didn't end antiblackness in the United States.

Also happening in this time: nationalism swept Europe. From the French Revolution through the end of World War I, Europe’s predominant form of government transformed from multiethnic empires to nation-states, countries led by and for a particular ethnic group.

So this Austro-Hungarian dude Theodor Herzl came up with this idea for Jewish nationalism. Every other European ethnic group is getting their own country, so why not Jews? Maybe this is the solution to antisemitism! Maybe we’ll finally be safe if we just all move en masse out of Europe to a place that will take all of us and never expel us!

But also also happening in Europe and around the world in this time: European imperialism and white supremacist settler colonialism. Chattel slavery saw its height and then its end (legally, at least) during this era, but white supremacy entrenched itself across the planet in post-slavery economic practices and cultural imperialism as well as national and international laws.

I believe countries have a moral obligation to take in as many refugees as they can squeeze in. International law protecting refugees has evolved a lot over the past century, but we’re still devastatingly far from every refugee getting a safe place to call home, and the main reason for that is white supremacy. The Biden administration didn’t undo the Trump administration’s horrifically low cap on refugees until like last week and it’s because Democratic party leaders treat centrist white people as more valuable voters than the huge and growing numbers of people of color, immigrants, LGBT people, unmarried women, and working class people who want to vote for elected leaders who get that nobody’s free until we’re all free. Ahem. Back to the topic at hand, the US and many other countries turned away untold numbers of refugees fleeing the fucking Holocaust, so odds are slim they’d be more welcoming in less desperate times. Moving from places where Jews are an unwanted minority to places where Jews are still a minority and either still unwanted or little understood and unlikely to win revolutionary levels of support from a largely non-Jewish public seems like a bad plan.

In the mid to late 19th century, lots of Jews took the kernel of Zionism and ran with it in different directions. Maybe this ideology could mean Jewish cultural flourishing alongside stronger political/economic integration into the societies where we’re already living! Maybe it could mean a particular kind of socialism that advocates for the liberation of Jews both as Jews and as workers! Maybe it could mean a revitalization of Jewish religious practice both in Jerusalem where we have important heritage sites and everywhere we live across the world!

Eventually Herzl’s vision of Zionism won out over the others: Jewish nationalism in the sense of a Jewish nation-state, a country that has a Jewish demographic majority and/or that legally privileges Jews over non-Jews.

Problem is, if you want to do that, you have to find a piece of land on which to do it, and Earth was already a pretty crowded place a hundred years ago. Many locations were considered, and the one that ended up winning that debate was Palestine. Where a shit ton of people, mostly non-Jews, were already living. They were forming their own nationalist movement at the time: in the waning days of the Ottoman Empire they began to organize for local self-determination in Palestine.

The Herzl types who developed Zionism as an ideology and built institutions to advocate for and create a Jewish ethnostate in Palestine were a small subset of European Jews, mostly men, mostly with significant economic privilege within what Jews were able to achieve in their particular societies at the time. They were just as Orientalist as the non-Jews around them, just as antiblack, just as racist generally for all that Jews were (and sometimes still are) considered non-white in much of Europe. They had a cool idea (put a lot of effort into something that could protect Jews from antisemitism) floating in a bathtub full of shit, and they did practically nothing to protect the cool idea from absorbing that shit. Results of this include thinking about the millions of people already living in Palestine as if they were either like the rocks and the trees that will go with the flow and accept a new ruling class, or indistinct Arabs who would just leave for other Arab countries because what could be the difference — in the staggeringly small amount of time they considered the existing residents of Palestine at all.

This racist hand-waving extended to Zionist leaders’ attitudes about Jews outside Europe as well. White Jews in settler colonies like the US were largely anti-Zionist at the time (not wanting their own countries to accuse them of dual loyalty was a common reason) but European Zionist leaders took what help they could get from Jews in the US, South Africa, Australia, etc. Jews across the Middle East and North Africa, however, barely heard from Zionist leaders about any of this until Zionist militias had removed enough Palestinians from the land and it was time to repopulate it with whichever Jewish bodies were convenient. You might have heard "all the Arab countries expelled their Jews in 1948" but lots of first-person accounts tell a different story of Israel coercing Jews who’d lived securely for a long time in places like Morocco to immigrate to Israel and then confiscating their passports and forcing them to live on less-fertile land with fewer resources while serving as a buffer between Palestinians and European Jewish immigrants. Ella Shohat is the best-known writer on Israeli racism against non-European Jews and I strongly recommend Sephardim in Israel: Zionism from the Perspective of Its Jewish Victims as a starting point to learn more about this.

Which brings us to today. We still haven’t eradicated antisemitism, several European governments that did a lot of structural antisemitism they still haven’t made meaningful reparations for get to feel good about themselves for “giving the Jews a state” as if carving up the former Ottoman Empire was up to them and not the people who lived there, and millions of people across the world who previously either lived peacefully enough alongside Jews or hadn’t really thought about us much at all now have very valid reasons to be pissed at this country that claims it represents all of us.

Zionism was supposed to protect Jews from antisemitism. And Israel has saved Jewish lives! But if we hadn’t sunk the past 70+ years into an ethnostate we could’ve been putting that energy into other political and economic activity to create adequate international support for refugees while we work on ending root causes of refugee crises, like antisemitism, racism, climate change, and capitalism. Meanwhile Zionism has killed, maimed, incarcerated, stolen from, traumatized, and erased the history of millions of Palestinians just because they happened to be living on land that some dudes who had a lot more in common with Thomas Jefferson and Donald Trump than with you or me decided needed to be cleansed for a Jewish ethnostate.

White nationalists in the US love Israel because they want American Jews to go away. Fascist leaders across Europe love Israel for the same reason, so much so that Israel’s prime minister is buddy-buddy with Trump and the equivalent shitstains of several European far-right parties. And I don’t know what it’s like in other white supremacist countries that are close allies of Israel, but the overwhelming majority of Zionist lobbying that pushes the US to give so much aid to Israel comes from Evangelical Christians, because they believe all the Jews have to be in the Holy Land for Jesus to come back. No thanks.

This whole thing fucking sucks. Jews and Palestinians, like all human beings, deserve to be free. Many Jews are understandably afraid of what might happen next if Israel decided to give up on ethnonationalism, allow Palestinian refugees to return, make reparations, and establish a pluralistic democracy that represents and protects all its residents — will some Palestinians murder Jews in revenge? That’s genuinely fucking scary. And it’s genuinely fucking scary to be a Palestinian in Israel/Palestine, and has been for over 70 years. We’ve gotta do something different. I say that as a white person sitting on land stolen from Piscataway people who has thought in detail about what portion of my income would be reasonable for my government to tax in order to fund reparations for the descendants of enslaved people.

Ok. One final piece of context before I wrap this up.

Most Jewish institutions in the US are explicitly Zionist, teach children that Zionism is THE way to ensure Jewish safety, and increasingly tell non-Zionist Jews that we're unwelcome or even that we’re not “real” Jews. This comes in a context where it’s only been 76 years since the latest and most gruesome of several attempts to wipe our entire people off the face of the planet. If you grew up in that environment, you, too, might be jumpy about even hearing the words Zionism or Israel, let alone considering the devastation this ideology and country have caused Palestinians.

Jews have a right to exist. Jews have a millennia-old connection to this scrap of land in the Levant, and we have a right to access religiously and culturally important geographic landmarks. What we don't have a right to is murdering or expelling other people in order to make an ethnostate, on that land or any other. Zionism is settler colonialism, but it’s settler colonialism by and for people who have a valid need for protection from structural antisemitism, which means that it’s going to take a lot of messy empathy to undo. The members of my extended family who voted for Trump (non-Jews in my case, though Jared Kushner isn’t the only Jewish Trumpite) are afraid that ending white supremacy will demote them from a privileged class to equal footing with everyone else — that’s the kind of fear individuals work on in therapy, not the kind that’s reasonable for a whole society to prevent from happening. I and millions of Jews do deserve for whole societies to work hard to end antisemitism.

I would never and will never ask a Palestinian to gently request their liberation. But if you’re not Palestinian, and you’ve got a little extra empathy to spare this week, I ask you to remember what I’ve shared here when interacting with Jews about Israel/Palestine.

If you’re a fellow Jew reading this and you feel like Israel is the only way to guarantee our safety, all I ask of you is to sit with the idea that what Israel is doing to Palestinians is too high a cost for safety that’s still not guaranteed, and start to imagine real-world ways we can protect our people from antisemitism without an ethnostate.

I made this post for people who know me (or know of me I guess?) in Old Guard and Cap fandom, despite my better judgment, because talking about Jewish Booker and Jewish Bucky and Jewish Natasha makes me so happy and I think some of the people I love on these characters with might appreciate this perspective. I didn’t provide any links in this post on purpose (to decrease its usefulness, so fewer people will reblog it) because the risk of anon hate when talking about Zionism outside my immediate fandom circles is so high. You’re welcome to reblog this post if you find it helpful! Unless you’re not within a few concentric circles of me, in which case, maybe don’t? If seeing this post makes you want to send me anon hate, no need: many people who share your perspective have already done so on Twitter.

Reliable sources on all this info are a few googles away, and I apologize for the things I know I oversimplified as well as any things I might have misremembered. I’m an American who’s never lived in Israel/Palestine who is posting this on my fandom blog.

TL;DR: This is a short ‘n pithy post about the same idea.

TL;DR, fandom edition: The shortest distillation of this anti-Zionist Jew’s feelings on the matter can be found in segment 4 of Five Times Booker Got Wasted on Purim and One Time He Didn’t.

#palestinian liberation #hi i'm an antizionist jew no i don't really want to talk about it #and yet #here we are #long post #mine #antisemitism #settler colonialism #racism #european imperialism #genocide cw

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silentauthor96 · 3 years

Text

Accepted fact: DC Trinity are all gay. LGBTQ icons, the whole lot of em. Diana is Pan, Bruce is Bi, Clark is Bi/Pan/he’s-an-alien-he-doesn’t-need-your-labels

Diana especially has no time for the heteronormativity of man's world and she would shut down any bs applying straightness to her real quick. Not even a question. No one lives most of their life on an island full of AMAZON WARRIORS and thinks “Yes, I will be attracted to only men, a being I’ve never seen. That makes total sense.”

Clark later in life is also like, “Heteronormativity is this super strange concept that some humans invented and decided to impose upon the rest of the world and why are you earthlings even like that??” But like, it takes him awhile to get to that point.

Growing up in Smallville, Kansas, and not originally knowing he was an alien, I see Clark going through a very typical gay realization that definitely involves a fair bit of denial. Once he learns about his heritage he kind of blames his Kryptonian DNA for what's "wrong" with him (his internal thought process; obviously there's nothing wrong with him). Then he finally comes out to the Kents and they love and accept him because that's what good people do and you best believe that Martha and Johnathan Let's-Adopt-the-Alien-Orphan Kent are good, loving people, and I will physically fight you over this (not right now though, cuz COVID).

The Kents acceptance and general nurturing and guidance help Clark accept his own sexuality (there are a lot of PFLAG type pamphlets around the farm for awhile there), and by the time he's an adult he's very much out and proud, if not necessarily loud. He just doesn't think it's other people's business, or even something they'd ever want to know about. So his friends know, but the average co-worker, eh probably not.

Then, one day Clark just wakes up (I imagine in bed next to Bruce) and has the realization like "Why do humans even have heteronormativity?? That's just the most unnecessary thing? Like you didn't have to do that? Bruce, why did you all do this?? Like it's such BS why!!??"

And Bruce is just like, "I'm. Asleep. I don't know. It's not my fault. For the love of Rao, let me sleep for 5 more minutes before one of my dumbass kids feels the need to break something or start a fight. Please."

The End.

#dc comics #dc trinity #batman #superman #wonder woman #bruce wayne #clark kent #diana prince #lgbtqia+#yes i am sure #no i do not accept criticism #dc headcanon

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mqgriett · 3 years

Text

Wrecker- Proposals are hard

Requested by @night-writer-writer ! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Wrecker x Reader

Warnings: none!

Summary: for months now Wrecker has been planning to propose and what could go wrong with the rest of the bad batch trying to help him?

Note: this was so much fun to write and I love my little squish Wrecker

“This one?” asked Tech for the tenth time today. He was steadily growing more and more irritated with his brother turning down every gemstone he held up.

The only other person more annoyed than Tech was the jeweler, who’s eyes were starting to shut as he waited on the large clone to choose a ring. Four out of the six Bad Batch members had been inside of the small store for at least five hours now, which was evident based on the fact that the sun had set a while ago.

Wrecker shook his head without even looking at the stone in Tech’s palm, eyes fixated on a gem that was seemingly floating in a case behind the counter.

Tech scoffed and gave the jewel back to the clerk, who reluctantly placed it back inside the case.

Crosshair made his way across the room, grabbing Wrecker’s shoulder and gently shaking him in an attempt to grab his attention. “I don’t know how much longer Echo’s gonna be able to distract ‘er, Wreck.” he said with a dry chuckle. When he didn’t answer Crosshair followed his brother’s gaze, looking in the direction of the case in the background.

A loud sigh traveled through the store as Hunter joined the rest of his comrades. He stared down at his hand, mindlessly pushing around all of the stones he had picked out. “Okay I’ve got a few red ones, a couple ‘a white, and some-” his eyes found the case that Wrecker was staring at and he couldn’t speak. “Nevermind.” he said definitively, letting the gems fall out of his grasp. The jeweler let out a frustrated and muffled groan, knowing he would have to clean that mess up.

Wrecker finally spoke, “That one. I want that one”

The clerk glanced over his shoulder and shook his head, “I’m afraid that one’s not for sale.”

“I’ll give ya’ three hundred credits for it.” Wrecker blurted subconsciously, slamming his palms on the glass counter. He tossed all the money he brought with him towards the worker, all without taking his eyes off the gem.

“That is a real kyber crystal from the caves of Ilum. It will be much more than three hundred credits.” responded the jeweler with a small laugh.

“How about five hundred?” Crosshair asked, folding his arms over his chest. He smirked at the clerk, willing to pitch in his own credits to help his brother and to see the face of the shop owner when they left the store with that stone. He set the credits next to Wrecker’s, popping a toothpick in his mouth after.

He shook his head, “I’m afraid that still would not be enough.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes, feeling the judgement seeping off of the jeweler. He dug through his own pocket, proudly setting another three hundred credits next to Crosshair and Wrecker’s.

“How about…” Tech’s voice trailed off as he approached the counter and counted the amount of money in his palm simultaneously, “one thousand two hundred fifty-seven credits and seventy-three cents.” he concluded proudly.

The shop owner stroked the small beard that grew on his face, thinking hard about his decision. He snatched the silver and gold bars off the counter and grumbled, “fine.”

Wrecker clapped his hands together, hugging his brothers so tightly that they physically needed to push themselves off of him. He excitedly repeated, “thank you,” over and over again as the jeweler carefully extracted the crystal from its case,

“She better say yes or you’re paying me back.” Crosshair muttered as they left the store, only half-joking.

***

Echo had been trying his best for the past five hours to distract you. For the first two you just played Sabacc, but then you started to ask him where everyone went.

You sat on the stairs of the Marauder, staring out into the dark night sky. “Echo, they’ve been gone for hours. They didn’t even say where they were going.” you said as he sat down next to you.

Echo scratched the back of his head nervously, “they’ll be back soon. You want to play another game ‘a Sabacc?” he offered.

You ignored his offer, growing more and more worried by the second. “Why are we even on Lothal?” you threw your arms in the air and shouted, “it’s deserted!” A few loth cats, who had most likely been sleeping, growled at the sound of your loud voice. It was late, well past 0600 when Wrecker said he would be back. “Try Hunter’s comm again, please.” you asked Echo.

“Just did, nothing.” he said, “hey how about some Sabacc?” he pointed behind him to the inside of the ship.

“Tech?”

“Nope, but we can watch your favorite holodrama.” Echo placed his arm on your back.

You sighed, “Wrecker?”

He shook his head, “no, how about we go mess up Hunter’s hair supplies, eh?”

“Crosshair?”

He chuckled, “he never answers his comms anyway.”

You hugged your knees to your chest, resting your chin atop them. “What if something happened to them?”

Echo laughed nervously, “They’re fine. Wrecker said they’d be back soon.”

“Yeah, at 0500. It’s 0815 now.” you mumbled. The more your mind raced the more horrible thoughts filled your head. Nothing good ever came from Lothal. This was where you had originally been found by the Bad Batch, where Wrecker had rescued you from a trap that Tarkin had set. Matter of fact, you weren’t too far from where that had all happened.

A tear streamed down your face as you buried your head in your knees, careful to not alert Echo.

Despite your efforts he noticed and scooted closer to you. He placed his hand on your back gently, not wanting to startle you . “I’m sure they’re gone for a good reason.”

You sniffed loudly, “today is our anniversary.”

“Who’s?” he asked, cocking his head to the side like a confused animal.

Your sleeve wiped under your nose, “Wrecker and I’s anniversary. It’s been two years. But he’s been so distant these past two weeks.” You combed your hair back with your fingers, sighing heavily, “I just hope he hasn’t lost interest.”

In that moment he considered telling you what Wrecker had been planning for the previous two months, but he knew he couldn’t without no-doubt receiving a verbal assault from the rest of the Bad Batch.

Echo desperately tried to hide his smile as he heard the sound of four speeders approaching, he acted as calmly as he could and tapped your shoulder to point you in the direction that he heard the noise.

You practically jumped down the other six stairs, sprinting immediately towards Wrecker as he took his helmet off and dismounted the speeder.

“Ner kar'ta!” he smiled, opening his arms up for you to hug him as you usually did when he returned from a mission.

You pushed him backwards, “it’s been five hours! You said one hour tops!”

Hunter stepped forward, “we got caught up-”

You quickly shut him down with a warning glare and began to pace back and forth, counting on your fingers after each sentence. “First, you refuse to tell me what planet we go to and all of you, besides Echo, ignore me for a week. Second, within an hour of landing you four take off on some mission without telling either of us where you’re going. Third, none of you answer your comms the entire time you’re gone. Lastly, today was our anniversary Wreck!”

He tried his best to interject, “Wait-”

You slapped the back of your right hand against the palm of your left, “If you’re going to leave for hours then please at least lie to me about where you’re going. You could have been dead!” You couldn’t hold the tears back anymore, allowing them to just to stream down your face and onto the dry dirt of Lothal.

“Cyar'ika-”

“I don’t mean to sound so overdramatic but I feel like you just don’t need me anymore.” You spun on your heels and began to walk towards the Marauder. Echo caught your shoulders and spun you back around to face your boyfriend of two years.

Your breath caught in your lungs, a pit forming at the bottom of your stomach as you faced Wrecker. He kneeled on one knee, a small ring in between his large fingers.

He spoke in an unusually small voice, hands trembling as held the ring, “I still love you, I promise.” Wrecker swallowed the ball in his throat, “will you marry me?” your name followed the question as he anxiously waited for your answer.

“Oh wow.” you gasped, “that why… that’s why you…” you turned and faced Echo, “that’s why he…” Your head started to spin, “that’s why we’re on…” you stared down at endless planes of Lothal.

He shuffled forward on his knees, capturing your attention again with those big eyes of his.

“Yes.” You exhaled, lunging forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. He stood up and hugged you tightly, swaying you from side to side. Your feet dangled off the ground as he held you.

The other four Bad Batch members all simultaneously let out a breath they had been holding for the longest time. Tech and Crosshair were nearly purple, Echo and Hunter on the verge of fainting.

Wrecker gently slid the ring on your finger and the kyber crystal danced in the moonlight. The pale-blue color was beautiful, the mere thought of actually getting to marry the love of your life making you smile from ear to ear. You smothered your now-fiance in kisses, unable to take your eyes off of the ring.

“I’m sorry for not telling you. I messed up real bad on that.” he sighed, finally able to formulate sentences again.

Hunter scratched the back of his neck, “That, would have been my idea.” he said with a nervous chuckle. He was quick to defend himself, “but Cross suggested the shop we went to, that’s why it took so long.”

“Oh please,” retaliated Crosshair, “Tech is the one who suggested the two-month planning.”

“And all four of you made me stay back here to play over fourty games of Sabacc with Echo.” you said sarcastically.

Echo’s eyebrows furrowed, “I thought you liked Sabacc.”

#clone trooper wrecker #wrecker #bad batch #clone force 99 #clonetrooper #clone trooper echo #clone trooper crosshair #clone trooper hunter #clone trooper tech #starwars #clone wars #wrecker is a bean who must be protected #wrecker x reader

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lemon-patches · 3 years

Text

Handon Pre-Legacies Headcanons

(So I was rewatching some the originals clips and these just popped into my head)

-It's already been established that Landon worked at the Mystic Grill and that's probably where he met Hope for the first time

-Now don't get mad at me but I'm gonna be honest, I don't think Landon stood out to Hope all that much...at first

-Keep in mind that at the time she did have a crush on Roman and we've all seen how committed she can be when it comes to romance

-But on the other hand Landon's trying to get his heart to start functioning properly again because who is that???

-And why does she have such a weird milkshake order???

-So anyways time goes on and whenever Hope's not locked in her room on campus she's at the Mystic Grill

-Thanks to her reclusive nature she doesn't really interact with anyone sans her server and kinda just sits there quietly enjoying her food and the scenery

-Meanwhile Landon's just in the background drooling and pining silently

-And don't get him wrong, he wants to talk to her but he always chickens out halfway through and just writes down his feelings and thoughts onto a napkin or something

-lowkey the reason why he's always writing her letters. because he got used to expressing himself best that way

-So even more time passes and Hope vaguely notices that Landon's the only waiter that's memorized her orders for the most part

-Hope being Hope, she calls him out on it. Politely of course but Landon still panics and nearly has a heart attack while he stutters and sputters out a defense that he's not a creeper

-okay so maybe he's kinda cute or whatever

-Hope thinks it's sweet and tells him so. Leaves him pretty good tips too (which sends Landon into a spiral because she's nice and she tips well?!?)

-True interaction doesn't really take off until she notices Landon being harassed by some Mystic High goonies and sees him forcing himself to bite his tongue

-But just because he has to hold back doesn't mean she has to and she's ready to rip these little shits a new one until they lock eyes and Landon shakes his head at her

-cue the start of hope wanting to hit shit and landon presenting another option...not to mention protective!hope

-Hope respects his wishes but still feels bad that he has to deal with it. Since she can't be reactive maybe she can be proactive

-She's seen him bobbing his head or singing under his breath to the music that plays on the speakers. So one day, during a moment of particularly vicious heckling she asks him who his favorite musicians are as a means of distraction

-And ladies and gentlemen they are off. Shy as he may be, if you want Landon to open up to you almost immediately ASK HIM ABOUT MUSIC OR SCI-FI SHIT

-They go back and forth talking about which artists they like and why and constantly go off on tangents. Almost like they can talk to this person about anything and they'd get it (how strange...)

-It's on one of those tangents that Landon finds out that Hope is from New Orleans which just sets off another 20 minute conversation

-They talk for so long that not only did the bullies get bored and leave but Landon gets scolded by his manager for abandoning the other customers

-worth it

-Before they know it, an odd little friendship has formed in a place that seemed to exist suspended in time, away from both of their worlds

-Hope spends more and more time at the Mystic Grill since she didn't really have friends at school (leave me alone, it's canon)

-At some point Landon just starts spending all his breaks with her and when he's working Hope is still content to watch Landon scurry around while she doodles or does her homework

-Discounted milkshakes anyone?

-They don't really talk about deep shit but their presence becomes a comfort to one another

-And Hope has to regularly remind Landon to get back to his job before he gets yelled at again

-They talk about and do so much random shit

-Ranking the menu items? Check

-Scoring all the contestants on karaoke night? Check (those two are utterly ruthless btw)

-Playing darts or pool over free leftover fries? Check

-Silently judging rude customers? CHECK

-And yes, Landon's crush just grows steadily day by day because he can tell even without knowledge of the supernatural that Hope Mikaelson is quite special

-And Hope is just so damn happy to have a genuine friend who doesn't judge her or want her for family's past or her powers

-Hope only comes over like 2 or 3 times a week but it's almost like a refuge for both of them to look forward to during a tough week

-That is until Hope gives Henry her blood, she gets suspended from school, and life proceeds to go to utter hell

-Hope's life is chaos and Landon's wondering where his lunchtime buddy went

-First it's just a couple days and then Hope's gone for weeks

-(the napkin notes just pile up)

-During that time separated Landon decides that he can't just rely on her being at the Mystic Grill to hangout with her. He's been extremely lucky so far and now's the time to buck up and finally ask her out

-Especially when he gets the news that his latest foster parents don't want to keep him and he's probably gonna be leaving soon

-Eventually he does see her again but doesn't comment on how much more...subdued she looks

-He figures it's none of his business unless she tells him and remembers the promise he made himself

-Sure, he wasn't expecting an audience (hi uncle Elijah) but it's now or never

-He gets shot down. Politely. But shot down nonetheless

-But hearing about his #1 tormentor's car blowing up did cheer him up quite a bit

-He's literally packing all his meager belongings when he decides to go out into the town while he still can

-AND GUESS WHO HE RUNS INTO?!?!?!!!?!?!

-Sure, they only really spent twenty minutes with each other but they danced. They danced.

-Landon's smiling like a goddamn idiot for the rest of the night. And sure enough, the following morning, there's a social worker waiting for him ready to relocate him

-He's sad, not so much because he'll miss the town or school or even his job but because he'll miss her

-But at least he can remember how they danced together

-About a month later, when Hope can think of human interaction and not automatically curl up inside or want to bare her new fangs Hope actually finds herself at the Mystic Grill

-Yes, she wants a milkshake, and maybe a burger but she mostly wants to see Landon

-She's actually there about half the day until she figures he's not coming in today (and to think she thought she had his schedule mostly memorized)

-It takes about a week of not seeing him before she finally asks another worker about Landon only to find out that he doesn't work there anymore because he moved

-”...oh.”

-After that Hope kinda just goes back to school and stays there

-She still goes to the Mystic Grill but only once or twice a month if she's nearby (no one gets her orders quite right anymore. especially the milkshakes)

-Now if Hope's not in class or training, she's in her room by herself, locked away from the world (no one else can leave her if she's always alone)

-Life goes on

-But every now and then she'll wonder how her friend is doing

-Little does she know that he's wondering the same thing

(flipping hell. look at them. disgustingly adorable. i love it)

#shit why does the ending actually make me kinda sad?#i thought this was gonna be a quick little drabble but apparently I had some THOUGHTS #idk its midnight and im rambling #might make a oneshot outta this who knows #and this has nothing to do with anything but the judgy looks handon had in 1x14 give me LIFE you have no idea #legacies #handon #hope mikaelson #landon kirby #headcanon #headcanons #handon headcanons #tumblr thief strikes again

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chunhua-s · 3 years

Note

im gonna CRY, this is like the 3rd time im sending this: OKAY-- ushijima <33 and a royalty au maybe? whether he's the loyal knight or loving king, i will take anything <33 ily davi ur so cool and btw ur handwriting is SEXC

i’m putting the note at the end because really? they clog a lot of space 🧍🏽‍♀️

YOURS ➽ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA X READER

genre: angst

au: royalty, time travel

warnings: uh nothing went as i planned for in this oneshot and i’ve hurt myself with it enough to the point of a headache :D

when you open your eyes, you’re greeted by the night sky, though there’s something about it that gives you pause. the stars above you aren’t the same ones from your city — the ones that could only hope to shine against thousands of bright lights. the stars above you are brilliant in their light, loud with a declaration of glory and untold miracles that flow across the darkest purples and blues of midnight in rivers of silver. they’re radiant, telling you stories of worlds far beyond what you could ever dream of, and they draw your breath on frost and smoke as it falls from your lips. and should you have asked yourself — where does venus hide among this canvas of light, where does her red outshine the bursts of silver, the trails of gold that glow brighter than the sun, you’d never find your answer.

“(y/n)?”

it’s hard for you, but you manage to pull your eyes away from the night sky, and when you allow them to return themselves to the earth, your breath escapes you once more.

he’s standing amidst an old garden, his face familiar while being like that of a stranger. under the moonlight, you wonder if he’s an apparition, merely a figment of your imagination that approaches you with slow, almost cautious steps. he calls your name again and his voice carries to you on a chilling wind, it ghosts across your skin and fills up your lungs with the oxygen you’d forgotten to take. olive eyes glisten like deep ponds when he finally stands before you, and as you seek out your voice to respond to him, you find that it’s lost its strength.

“ushi-... ushijima?”

and truly, the face that you see before you is that of wakatoshi ushijima. his hair, the shape of his face, and even his lips that now twist into something of a helpless smile. here is the man who you’ve worked with for so long as the dietitian of japan’s national volleyball team; the man who you watched grow through high school, whose transformation reminded you of a cosmos flower in autumn; the man whose smiles told of secrets shared on late phone calls and a voice as calm as the ocean waves at night.

and yet, there’s nothing here of that man you know.

the wakatoshi ushijima you see carries the same regality that he always does, the same grace and silent power that flows from him just as the maroon cotton flutters around his body like waves. he’s always been the perfect picture of royalty, you consider, but here, with assured steps and a certain hush to the normally domineering force he exudes on the court, he really does appear to you like an emperor.

he chuckles lightly, a deep sound that rumbles in his chest and travels through your entire being as his eyes search your expression. there’s something that glistens on starlight, a certain warmth that you’ve yearned for on your loneliest nights, when his gentle words would pull you into deep slumber. does he see the way your brows furrow, the way your lips part with questions you don’t even know the beginnings to? “i thought i told you to call me wakatoshi, didn’t i?” he whispers, his tone soft and gentle, careful just as the hand that reaches up to cup your cheek. your heart stutters under the brushes of his thumb, and you’re sure that he can feel the heat spreading across your skin. “what are you doing out so late? and barefoot, nonetheless.”

he’s right. your feet sink beneath blades of grass as if they would be embraced by them, drops of dew clinging to your skin and causing a chill to travel up your spine. looking into ushijima’s eyes, you have no answer — neither for his question, nor for this strange situation you’ve found yourself in.

with concern melting into his warm gaze, he studies you for a while longer, the thumb that had been rubbing circles into your cheek coming to a stop as he ever so slightly tilts your head back to meet his gaze. at the same time, he’s leaning his head forward ever so slightly, as if to meet you half way. “(y/n)?”

“i—” your words fall short, disappearing under the night air when you try and speak. your eyes fall from his patient gaze, and all your attention is given to the green grass that, beneath the starlight, gives itself to a colour you can’t find the name for. this, you’ve decided, isn’t your world. it can’t be — the stars don’t shine as brightly as they do here, and neither does the air encompass you as if it yearned to kiss your skin. and in your world, wakatoshi ushijima has never held you so gently, and his eyes don’t sing to you poems of a feeling lost on your wildest fantasies. you force air into your lungs when you meet olive hues and try your best to speak with a wavering voice. “ushijima, what’s going on?? i don’t— where are we?”

you see confusion etch lines around his lips and between his brows as he frowns. “what do you mean? we’re in the palace garden, of course.” he says it so assuredly, confident, yet his words are hushed in a secret shared by the both of you. and the way he looks at you, you feel terrible for not knowing that secret. it feels as if somehow, you’d betrayed something sacred by taking the face and name of someone he might hold dear — maybe in this world, in this time, there’s a you who knows ushijima’s love.

“i’m sorry...” you mutter out, guilt and shame unwarranted yet potent behind your words as your eyes lock with his. “i think there’s been some sort of mistake. i’m—” you force yourself to swallow, to breathe; you find that the task comes difficult and your body betrays you terribly. “i don’t think i’m the person who you think i am.”

ushijima’s gaze falters, the hand that had so lovingly warmed your face falls to your shoulder and his fingers grab on to you tightly. “what do you mean...?” there’s a bit of a broken laugh that bubbles from his lips, and to you, it’s as foreign as the night sky above you, because there has never been a time when you’d ever seen him so vulnerable, open, pained. it’s new, and it scares you. it makes you want to wrap him into your arms and to take back everything you’ve said, to selfishly become the person he sees in you — the you whom he loves and cherishes so dearly. “you’re you, aren’t you? you’re (y/n)... my (y/n).”

you shake your head weakly, tears lining your eyes as feelings you’d long since fought against begin to spill from your aching heart like rain. every i love you that you’ve ever whispered to your starless sky burns your skin and sets an unbearable fire alight inside your chest, and the smoke clouds your brain and makes you forget your reality. my (y/n), he’d said — he’d called you his, his (y/n), with all the certainty and confidence in the world, as if those words should stand as true as the moon should shine at night, and oh, how desperately you wished they were true. you wished with all your heart that you really were his. but to look into his eyes, so hopeful, so loving and so, so beautiful in the starlight, you can’t find it within yourself to lie. not to him, and not to yourself. and so you steel your heart and abandon those feelings, and you lift your hand to pull his away from your shoulder, ignoring the pain that could blind you from its intensity. “i’m sorry...” you whisper, and this time, the hushed words bring no secrets, no sweet affections or longings told when the night showers your bodies in silver. it tears you apart and leaves your wounds to fester. “i’m really sorry, but— but i’m not them...”

“i’m not your (y/n).”

chile im so sorry this took so long!! and uh.... see i originally started this oneshot with a cute idea in mind??? but 🤡 somehow it turned into angst and uh.... but anyways!! i had these two requests and i thought “hey, why not combine them!” and it was the perfect opportunity to push my emperor! ushijima agenda 🤩 well.... that was the original intent? but somehow i got sidetracked.... again.... and didn’t really focus on that 😗 in summary? nothing went as i planned for this oneshot and somehow i ended up with a short angst oneshot that could work for an entire plot. like deadass?? i have the whole thing planned out in my head already and i was tempted to go off on it but it would become too long and i wouldn’t have a resolution for it all... or at least not one that didn’t involve pain. so, basically, reader in emperor! ushi’s world would have been like a palace worker who grew up with toshi, and they’d have fallen in love, but it’s ✨forbidden✨ because toshi would have already had his s/o chosen for him. on the flip side, modern world reader is team japan’s nutritionist and they, similarly grew up with toshi, but they have feelings for him that they don’t ever let show because they’re worried that they would destroy what they have with him already. if i went on with the plot, it would have shown reader going about palace life and their interactions with toshi, along with a handful of challenges that they’d have to face. this idea was highly inspired by one of my favourite k-dramas, scarlet heart ryou (a really good watch i def recommend it) but yeah! that’s the end of my rant! (it’s not. i’m stopping myself because if i don’t i’ll never shut up about it.) but anyways!! i really hope you guys enjoyed this oneshot! it feels good to write something after a while — if any of you guys have any thoughts or anything i’d love to hear them!!

taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @tsumue @bootylikepeachy @waitforitillwritemywayout @mixxfi @shnnn @janellion

send an ask to be added or removed!!

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader angst #ushijima x reader angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! au event 💫

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mikaze-discord · 3 years

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OG Heavens: Love letters

For these Heavens posts, I had reached out to a few people who just never ended up responding. With projects like these, please at least hear them out, you don't have to do it because I know its a huge project but at least tell them you won't be doing it instead of ghosting them. But apart from that little road block, this project was really fun!!

Please enjoy under the cut!!!!

EIICHI OTORI

From @milkmateartist:

I have always leaned towards megane characters and Eiichi is no exception. However, it's not often you see idols wearing glasses, and that is something I appreciate about Eiichi's design. His color palette also intrigues me since I love deep shades of blue. His royal blue jacket is very attractive, and the way he pops the collar also makes me go "kya!". His voice is also very sexy as well and is pleasing to the ear uwu. I love how egoistic he is too. Being incredibly ambitious he has been able to reach amazing heights that surpass other idols. The one thing that seems to make him unique though is that he really gets zealous and overly passionate when it comes to the power of music, so much that it makes him physically tremble. You could get high off that shit literally. His entire being is centered around being an idol, and all the components of him go above and beyond the requirements. It's not just a job for him or something that simply makes an earning or brings satisfaction. It's pretty much everything to him. For that reason he has made it to the top. There is also the component where he's lonely and isolated emotionally that interests me. Despite being a beloved idol, he clearly didn't get the love he needed growing up. Even though he had Eiji I feel as though his nature was more to protect Eiji and shield him from whatever terrors would arise. I admire his ability to come through all of that and pay attention to the things he really cared about. Eiichi can be himself, his strange, sexy self, but also he acknowledges the lonesome darkness within too. I think that component makes him incredibly powerful.

Extra Details:

While appearing to be a bad guy in the anime (at least), Eiichi seemed to be that typical bad boy idol that would steal away Haruka from the main group. The time when he approached Haruka and took her by the chin is a perfect example. How dare this new guy just think he can have his way with our protagonist! To be honest I liked that aspect about him a bit. While I can't remember my first impression of Eiichi aside from not knowing how to feel about that, he slowly grew on me. He had the appearance of just another selfish idol, demonstrated by swiping the mic away from the announcer at one of his concerts and immediately declaring their foreseen victory. So far that looked rather bland to me, and I was still cheering for STARISH. They really made him out to look like some bad guy who would not play fair and do whatever he could to take the throne (and the girl). It's not surprising his glasses shine adds to his 'freaky antagonist' vibe that the show seemed to try to give off, but however for me I love the glasses beam, thus having the opposite effect.

And then there is the Next Door episode. Now here's where we got to see more of Eiichi aside from when the HEAVENS Dragon demolished the entire stadium. Aside from kya-ing over the EiichiOtoya content (especially where he goes behind otoya and covers his eyes), I got to see more of him here. It surprised me that someone so cocky and confident was actually the same depressed, lonely person that Otoya was. But it was also evident to me as well that he did care about the effect it had on Otoya as well after he sort-of-well mind broke him. I like how he is ambitious but also still caring, as compared to an antagonist that would stop at nothing to achieve their goal regardless of how much pain they cause.

I also enjoy Eiichi because I feel like I can roleplay him well. Usually for me, roleplay has to achieve some kind of goal since I tend to be business oriented. I think to some degree I'm able to practice being a eboy idol through Eiichi, as I do enjoy charming the fans. It also helps that I can naturally play characters with an inflated ego who enjoy charming people.

From @/egoisticCEO on twt:

July 2019. When Eiichi was first introduced to me via his voice, I hated him from the very beginning. His singing, his appearance, his personality – everything about him made me despise him. It’s funny looking back and seeing how quickly my attitude changed towards him, realising I’d been biased against him because of a friend. Finding more about him, hate turned to interest. It seemed like his life hadn’t been the best. Maybe that was why he acted in such a way? Interest turned to liking him more. Maybe I’d misunderstood him. I’d made the mistake of taking him at surface level.

December 2019. Like was slowly turning to love. More and more, I found myself looking at him instead of my current favourites. I found myself wanting him to actually be a part of Egoistic. Once I started devouring HEAVENS Radio and unveiling his true character, it was shocking how quickly I fell. He truly acted like a father to everyone in his band. Giving them what he never received. Everything was for them to thrive.

2020. With how much I was at home, it only made sense I grew more obsessed. I found Life with Thanks’ translation. “We’re irreplaceable to him,” he tells us, and that made me certain that his heart wasn’t as evil as some people liked to believe. He’s a caretaker, someone who wants everyone to feel like they matter. Even at his own expense. Instead of selfish, he’s selfless.

I related to him more than I have to any character – it was comforting. Seeing someone have no choice but to put on a brave face, even when his confidence was at an all time low. 2020 got a lot harder for me, but when I recovered, Eiichi was like a home to go back to. Time and time again, I’d have to break away, but I’d always be invited back in by that stupid smirk and overexaggerated ego and the warmest heart you could ever find. Every scene I watched with him would make me smile. I’d tease him to myself. I still do.

2021. That brings us to now. I can’t see my love for this one of a kind man dying any time soon. I don’t want it to, either. Just looking at him makes me happy! He’s the type of character with so many facets to his personality that you can keep digging and never reach the end. So, in conclusion, I hope I never stop finding new things out about this wonderful idiot. More than anything, he deserves all the love he gives to others, and I’d love to provide it tenfold.

KIRA SUMERAGI

From Anon:

Many have their reasons to love their favorite characters. As for me, why Kira Sumeragi is my favorite character is because there are several things about him that I can relate myself to and there are a few qualities he has that I like about him. If many do not know about Kira that much, they’d look at who he is. He may look intimidating at first and may not talk much, when in actuality, Kira is a considerate, dependable, and mindful guy. Mainly, he is the type of guy that lets his actions do the explaining. He is a hard worker, as an idol, he looks after his bandmates, HEAVENS, like family. It’s like what Eiichi said in HEAVENS Radio about Kira, “he is HEAVENS’ pride!” Although he may not say much, Kira is very observant of his surroundings and never hesitates in his decisions. The members of HEAVENS understand and acknowledge Kira, knowing that he means well.

You can even tell in his solo music! Although there are only two solo songs for Kira, if you read the lyrics carefully, Kira’s thoughts and feelings are shown. Kira always knew that if he cannot explain his feelings through words, then he’ll let his songs and his actions do it for him for you to see. Although the anime doesn’t show much of Kira, the only way to get to know him more is through HEAVENS Radio, also drama CDs like Paradise Lost, and other media like LINE Messenger Japan. There’s still much that I’d want to know about him, but as a start, these things are what makes Kira my favorite character for HEAVENS.

From Anon:

Aside from my huge bias towards OnoD the first thing that drew my attention to Kira was his design. Dark haired anime boys with bright eyes have such a vibe and I loved how mysterious he was set up to be in season 2. But the thing that really hooked me a lot was the found family that Heavens became over the progression of the anime.

Particularly since people in the fandom have a bunch of funky headcanons about Kira being the mom friend in the group, which is incredibly wholesome. Kira’s very quiet and reserved but clearly holds a deep caring for his group members and does what he can when needed which is one of the reasons why he became so loveable for me.

NAGI MIKADO

From @/_PXRFECTIONIST on twt:

If I managed to stan Nagi, so will you.

Greetings. I present to you, once more, a story of how I came to love a character that I wished I threw hands with.

So.

Nagi Mikado.

The possible only utapri character that Shinomiya oshis despise. Thanks to what happened in the anime.

Truth be told, I too was one of them. Until I came to love Both Shinomiya and Nagi. Reason?

Research.

Ya see, it is universally agreed upon that the way Nagi was pushing and pulling at Shinomiya's trauma and DID was… Not okay. So I said "yeah okay what an obnoxious kid i dont think ill ever like him lol" especially since I never come to really warm up to people younger than me.

Boy was I wrong.

My heart really sways easily when I go deep into characters, and why they act the way they are. And also because I chose to roleplay as him, but let's not. Speak of that.

(its actually the main reason i like him in the first place who am i fooling)

Nagi is… Indeed obnoxious, and really has bad manners that are covered up by his cute looks and fame, especially since he's one of the original HEAVENS members, but once you get to really know him.. It makes sense why he's being such a brat. And that is sort of endearing. And knowing how his group is like family to him too, it becomes harder and harder to completely dislike him.

….

He really is a boss man.

He knows what he wants, and how to get it. He knows how to get people to like him without handing over the tiniest sliver of his weaknesses. He acts in his own way that shapes his personality to suit him, yet still manages to be caring and helpful, even if it's hard to see tenderness and good will through his aggression.

Reading his solo lyrics, listening to the drama CDs, even thinking of headcanons due to lack of lore, it all slowly comes together like a lovely parfait to suddenly make you realize..

'Wow…'

'I really do like that rat.

#utapri #utanoprincesama #uta no prince sama #eiichi otori #otori eiichi #Kira Sumeragi #Sumeragi Kira #Nagi Mikado #Mikado Nagi

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lightcomingthroughthedarkness · 3 years

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So I'm in a weird dating situation and I'm just confused and thought lets ask tumblr, lol.

So over the summer I started dating a guy. The first time we met, things went well but I had a gut feeling something wasn't right but I couldn't for the life of me put my finger on it. It was just a gut feeling, something just felt off.

We kept on dating all summer and we realized almost right away that we are very different people. I'm direct, honest and go all in. Even though I'm an introvert in most cases, I felt like I needed to be upfront with him about my intentions. So much so, that I admit, I was overdoing it a little. He was more chill and wanted us to slow down and just date and see where we'd end up. But if I have a feeling or a thought, I share, in the name of being honest and upfront about my intentions. Not him. He's a thinker and needs time to form his thoughts before speaking. And if he doesn't feel like saying something, he keeps it to himself. So to say the least, our style of communication was veeeery different. I acknowledged this and talked to him about it so we could better understand one another. Again, he helped me chill down a little and just be in the moment so I didn't think it was all bad.

What I noticed almost right away, was that I was always more interested in his life and asked him thousands of questions about his work, his family, his hobbies, his likes and dislikes etc and he thought I asked "too many questions". He felt like I was overdoing it. Meanwhile, he never really had many questions about my life at all. I brought this up so we could communicate and discuss. His answer was that he was interested in me but that his communication style was different. He wasn't used to direct questions but would rather see us talk and discuss and through discussions, learn more about one another. So I tried that by backing down on questions and letting it flow. He tried too, by starting to ask me questions to show his interest (which he later admitted that he had to google "what to ask someone you're dating")

However, I noticed again that not much happened in regards to him learning more about me. He'd freely share information about his family, his work, his life by sending me photos and little funny stories about them/him. It was important to him that I knew that he was beloved by friends, family and co-workers. It was also important to him that I knew that he was capable, respected and valuable. Even though I later found out he was leaving his job due to a disagreement with his co-boss in their shared business.

Since we had agreed on a more "free discussion" style of communication, I didn't wait for him to ask me, I just shared photos and information about my life too. The difference was that I always had some follow up question about his life, I showed interest in his relationships with his family members, I made small comments about things he'd share with me to show him I was listening and that I cared to learn more. He would never do the same for me. He'd acknowledge what I shared with him but had no follow up questions or comments. He even said once that it was too soon for me to share private information because "we aren't there yet" while he had already sent me family photos of his family. Sometimes I felt like my photos/stories about my life were sent out into the void. I couldn't understand how you show interest in someone's life.. by literally having nothing to say?

At the start of us dating he was direct with me that he expected us to have an active sex life because he believes sex is part of dating. I agreed but wanted to wait until I was more comfortable with him. He kept telling me he wasn't interested in a relationship without the sexual part. Finally, I felt more comfortable and told him I was ready after our 3rd or 4th date. But then he started acting weird telling me he thought it was better to wait longer, as I had originally wanted to do. I was so confused and felt rejected. I again was upfront and told him I was ready. So we made plans and met up. Turns out he needed to tell me that he had been suffering from a lot of stress and psychological pressure from a lot of different things in life so it affected his physical health. I was shocked. He had made it suuuper clear that he expected sex.. only to keep such information from me. I was supportive and wanted him to know that I was a safe place for him.

So while all of that made me confused and I did bring it up several times with him, he kept showing up. He would always text me, always tell me good night/good morning with heart emojis, always reach out during the day to catch up, always asked to see me and hang out with me, even when we'd argue he'd never call me names, he'd never yell at me or touch me unless I wanted him to. He just kept showing his interest by showing up. Even though I thought some of our contact lacked depth. But I was willing to let a lot slide.

But since the summer, we've been doing long distance with me planning on visiting next month. So we kept in touch by text mostly. Again, he kept on showing up. Not one day went by without him reaching out to me. In that way, he made his interest clear. He kept using pet names for me and was always very sweet like that.

But still, our communication didn't improve much. We still had a lot of big differences about values and life. Sadly, I never really thought he took my feelings seriously about how sad I was that our communication was lacking. I mean, the guy kept showing up in a lot of ways, even through long distance... but he couldn't ask one question about my life or make me feel like he was truly interested in ME. Instead he thought I was overdoing it, trying to shape life to fit a "rule book" and how I just couldn't live in the moment like him. To me, it felt like he was just ignoring my reasons for wanting to make my intentions clear and that I didn't want to waste my time with someone who didn't share my intentions. He said he did, that he too was dating me with the intention of a future together but that we just differ in our ways to get to that future. Again, I was willing to let it slide that perhaps I wouldn't get ALL my emotional needs met and that I needed to trust the process.

While learning more about each other, he told me how he is a stubborn person and will cut a person out of his life if he believes "the other person doesn't deserve to be in his life". He did this to his best friend after they had a fight. But his friend "clawed" his way back into his life and finally he relented and realised his friend "valued their friendship over a fight". He told me he doesn't trust anyone but "god and myself". He told me if someone likes him, he likes them back. If a woman breaks up with him, he'd stop caring about her in 5 seconds because "why should I care if she doesn't care" and then she'd be dead to him. I learned that he had lost his mother as a child and a part of him doesn't feel whole and his only wish is that he'll see her again in the afterlife. I once asked him if he ever forgive people in his life for making a mistake, he said "never". He said if someone wronged him, he'd wait 50 years if he had to but he'd always "find a way to get even".

He told me about an ex, how she cheated on him when they were teenagers. She came back and wanted to date again, so he went out with her and they ended up having sex.. only for him to throw her out right after they finished because she was a "bitxh for thinking he'd take her back". He basically made her believe they'd fix it, played her for some cheap sex and then kicked her out. He was furious with me when I called him out on that behavior and he said "only god can judge me".

He also told me he had gone to therapy a few years ago but he was very private about why he went. So I told him a little about why I went but still, he didn't share much. He just said "I'm a complex person to understand. I have a lot of love to give but it's your job to find that love". He always felt judged, criticized or offended by me, even though it was never my intention. I could question something he had said or done and he'd get annoyed with me for "judging him all the time" or "always expecting the worst". I asked him how he wanted me to communicate with him so we could minimize situations where he'd feel that way but he didn't have an answer, just that I "talk normally".

All of these stories made me feel weird and I wasn't comfortable with it. Then one day we had an argument about our lack of communication and I was just so fed up, I decided to ignore his good morning text and didn't text him all day but I posted a story on instagram about something completely irrelevant to our relationship (a story with my niece). I needed to think, to understand my own feelings and try and understand what our problem was before reaching out.

Later that day he got annoyed and told me to stop behaving like a child. So I finally reached out and texted him back. I asked him how come he couldn't understand that it hurts my feelings that we can't even seem to TALK to each other without misunderstandings, how he makes fun of me by saying I need a "rule book" to life etc for simply wishing we could be better at communicating. He said he didn't make fun of me and that he didn't believe my reaction was normal since the fight wasn't that big a deal.

What did he do? He broke up with me right then and there. Told me it is unacceptable to him that his partner ignores him/his texts and that he can't handle being ignored. While I agree, I should not have ignored him but rather talked to him about it, I'm only human and was growing so frustrated. I said, lets talk about this, lets talk about triggers and what deal breakers we have so we can better understand each other and not repeat the same mistakes. He said he wasn't interested and that he could "never forgive me for this mistake". He couldn't see himself spending his life with someone who ignores his texts because what if this happens again? No, he was not interested in giving me a chance to explain or for us to learn more about the other. I asked him if maybe there were other reasons for him losing interest (me being so direct, too open, moving too fast, my own issues that I work on every day and acknowledge etc) he said no, it was just that ONE mistake, my not answering one text message.

I told him that I thought his reaction to my not returning ONE message, after a fight, was a bit of an overreaction but he said he couldn't risk it, in case I do this again in the future. He said he refuses "to be made a fool" by me so he is no longer interested to continue dating because I had shown my true colors by not texting him back but still posting on instagram as if I didn't see his text. He said "that was clearly directed at me" even though I explained that I have a life outside of him. I asked him if he still liked me and he said that he did but that it wasn't enough after my mistake.

So I asked him what we are going to do about my visit next month. He said he is willing to see me if that's what I want, to see him, but he's not interested in a relationship any longer. He also said he's willing to still text with me sometimes and that he doesn't want to come across as "the bad guy". So if I want to stay in contact with him we can do that, we can talk and we can meet up too. But nothing else.

Wtf. I am no longer interested in a relationship with him after all this.. but what the actual fuck. Am I crazy here.. or maybe is his "black and white" way of thinking just impossible to deal with in a relationship? I would have accepted and respected his decision 10000 times over if he had said that he no longer likes me and doesn't see a future for us. But breaking up over my not returning ONE TEXT MESSAGE?! 🤷🏻‍♀️

#personal #relationships #🤷🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

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wisteria-lodge · 3 years

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a bird secondary with a *very* unhealthy badger model

i’m pretty sure i’m using both Bird and Badger secondary tools - i just cannot for the life of me figure out which one’s my actual secondary, and which is the model. it doesn’t help that both of them are at least slightly charred. when i was younger, i was surely a Bird secondary, no doubt.

One of the reasons I ask people for childhood stories is I fundamentally don’t believe that sortings ever change. (Maybe that’s the Lion in me talking.) You can build beautiful models that you adore living in, but important aspects of yourself don’t just... fall away. They change, and grow, and level up.

i’ve always loved collecting knowledge, i store trivia better than many a fandom wiki, i’ve studied things just because they interested me, i’ve once memorised a big portion of the pokedex just for fun… you get the idea.

I’m going with Bird secondary as a hypothesis, but this doesn’t necessarily say bird secondary to me. Bird of some kind, sure. But it could still be a model.

when academia kicked my butt (hello, undiagnosed adhd), and i realised my natural talents and good memory won’t help me, i think i burnt my Bird. it really hit me very hard.

That can happen. And it’s brutal. But when a secondary burns from over-use, it’s not gone it’s just... tired.

i’ve started appreciating kindness and hard work, and i wanted to be a person who - wasn’t necessarily the smartest in the room (because i felt that this ship has already sailed.)

There’s a fun word for someone who thinks they’re the smartest person in the room. And that word is “asshole.” :) Seriously, ‘being the smartest person in the room’ isn’t a real thing, and definitely not something to aspire to.

didn’t help that i’ve also acquired a nemesis who was just as smart as me, but an asshole, lmaoo.

Like I was saying...

But I thought perhaps I could be the kind one. the patient one. the steady one. of course, that didn’t work for me with my adhd at all, lol. i am physically and mentally unable to reach that ideal of stable, patient, consistent, reliable. and it hit my self esteem real hard again.

There is some sort of POWERFUL Badger secondary influence in your life, making you believe that you need to be that way too. And you don’t. That’s the entire premise of this system. That there are many ways to solve problems, all equally effective and valid.

after all, not everyone can be smart, and that’s alright - but everyone can be a hard worker, right? it’s not a matter of any innate abilities.

You think the chip that allows you to settle down and focus on doing a non-preferred task in increments over long periods of time is not an innate ability? This is why I hate standardized tests. They test your ability to take a test much more than they test the material. Not everyone *can* sit at a desk in a silent, windowless room and do math problems for four hours. And why on earth should that be that a desirable, rewarded ability? The end goal is not to graduate and start working in a factory like its 1905.

my bachelor degree’s taken me a year longer than it should have, because i’ve started just… not doing my work. didn’t come to class, didn’t hand in my homework, didn’t contact my professors. did everything at the very last minute, if at all. and i didn’t know why.

It’s because you struggle with executive dysfunction. Because you’re neurodivergent.

i’ve felt terrible about it, because i wanted to be a good student, you know? i wanted to feel like i earned that degree. i passed, because i’m bright and i can extrapolate based on the knowledge i already have, and i have a lot of knowledge in this wonky brain of mine - but it doesn’t feel like i… deserved that pass.

for instance, we had this class - literature masterpieces of XX century. we were supposed to read one book each week. obviously i didn’t manage, bc despite reading as if my life depended on it in my early years, i lost that ability sometime during my high school years (when depression hit). so the night before, i’ve sat down, read the wikipedia article on every book and every author on the list, read goodreads’ reviews, sparknotes, whatever i could find. sometimes even fragments of the original text. and i passed that (oral) exam, even with this extremely strict professor. and i felt horrible about it, because i didn’t feel i deserved to pass that. i didn’t read those books! i’ve lied to you! i’ve cheated!

Listen. I’m a teacher, and I am telling you, you deserved that degree. You got the info, you thought about it, you understood. You didn’t trick your strict professor. Your professor did a good job, and allowed you to think and learn and demonstrate your knowledge in a way that worked for you. (Which is what they’re supposed to do.) I love students with ADHD, their brains are fast and non-linear, and yes they skim the reading, but they make connections and take things to new levels and process things in such cool way, and it just makes me feel alive you know?

I actually have more trouble with the opposite type, the student who obviously did the reading, but didn’t play with it or connect it to anything else they know, so it just kind of sits in their head like a lump, not doing them any good. But they are really good test-takers.

then again - doing things the right way was (and still is) sometimes just simply unaccesible to me.

There is no right way to do things. The right way to do thing is whatever makes you happy and gets the job done. But that’s a hard one to internalize. I still have trouble truly internalizing that one. But I’m getting better.

the badger secondary, therefore, is not anything that’s actually… useful to me, most of the time, lol.

You are crushing yourself under the weight of a Badger secondary model.

unless it’s the ~vibes~ of the badger that make professors like me, most of the time - and because of that liking, they’d often turn a blind eye to just how badly i’d fuck up.

I bet your professors like you because you’re an interested, interesting student who brightens up their day. And if they’re turning a blind eye, it’s because they know that people with ADHD struggle with deadlines sometime. And that’s /fine/

i often seem trustworthy and reliable in the beginning, before my executive dysfunction trips me up, and makes me beat myself up for not actually being that.

My thoughts on secondaries and executive dysfunction.

it’s the bird that helps me still achieve anything these days - the knowledge i still have, and the things i pick up along the way, from friends or twitter or online articles. i can bullshit my way through many things, because i know quite a bit about a wide range of topics.

It is so easy to pick up on true bullshit as a teacher. We *know* when you don’t know what you’re talking about. When you put together interesting statements and arguments on the fly - when you pull something out of your ass - it’s still coming from you. That’s just an alternate way of thinking. Also, everything you have written is SO BIRD.

but actually applying myself - which i feel is both necessary to succeed

It’s not.

and the right way to do things

There’s no such thing.

- is just… out of my reach. sorry for the rant, but i’m just so super confused, lmao. if you have any thoughts on this mess, i’d be very grateful. apologies for any mistakes, too - english is not my first language.

English isn’t your first language??? Your English is amazing. You’re a bird secondary, and a pretty brilliant one by the sound of it. And you are torturing yourself because you aren’t living up to an entirely arbitrary Badger secondary ideal.

#sortinghatchats #sortme #wisteria sorts #bird secondary #burnt bird secondary #badger secondary model #executive dysfunction #adhd #teaching

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word-scribbless · 4 years

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Family Part 2

Part 2! I’m not sure if I’ll do more. I feel like I could probably think of more sweet storylines for them, and more about the fostering stuff.

This is a gibbs x female reader it also includes an OC, Cori.

(Italics mean the character is signing. In most cases, they are speaking as well, except for Cori.)

Masterlist

Part 1

———

Cori had been with Gibbs and Y/N for a week when Gibbs and the team solved the case. Having Cori with them felt perfect. Y/N took a few days off from work to be with Cori. they went shopping, read Harry Potter together, and cooked dinner each night. It was summer, so when Y/N had to go into work cori went to Y/N’s brother’s house with her nieces, but they spent almost every day together. Y/N discovered that Cori loved baking so she let her pick something to bake each evening.

When y/n was younger she had dreamed of having a daughter. When she got engaged all those years ago, they had talked about having a family, but that dream died with her fiancé, Connor. Since then she pushed it away, along with her hope for love. Until she met Jethro. She knew they probably wouldn’t have children, at least not biologically, but the family the two of them were together was enough. He showed her so much love and passion that she knew she’d always be happy.

Having Cori in their lives just made their little family even better. Jethro walked through the door after a hard days work to the sound of y/n and cori each night. He came home each of the 5 nights to his girls making dinner for him in the kitchen, dancing along to the radio and engulfing him in hugs when they saw him.

For the first couple of days cori was still a bit skiddish around Gibbs, being she wasn’t used to trusting males besides her father who she lost at a young age. However by the third day she felt like she’d known and trusted Gibbs her whole life. It helped that he left it up to her to how much she trusted him, constantly giving her the option of y/n being around too. One night she asked if she could come help him work on his boat and he knew then she trusted him as much as y/n. That night she hugged him goodnight and he knew his life would never be the same.

He knew that as long as he had Y/N his life would be greater than he ever thought it could be after he lost his original girls. However he was growing to love having Cori around. He loved her spirit and silliness, how she trusted them enough to use her quiet voice around the house. Most of all he loved seeing y/n as a ‘mom’. It made him love her even more if that was possible. It scared him to think about what was going to happen when the case was solved.

They’d have to tell the social worker, who would come to put Cori back into the system. Each day he had been dreading it and thinking about what he could do to make it so she could stay. He knew he had to bring it up with y/n, but she beat him to it one night just after dinner when Cori had gone to read in her room.

“Jethro we need to talk about what happens with Cori when the case is over.” Y/n said seriously as she sat down next to him on the couch.

“I know but I really don’t want to think about it.” He answered honestly

“I don’t want her to leave J.”

“Does she have to?” He asked

“What?” Y/N responded, her head snapping up to look at him.

“Well if she wants to stay why can’t she?”

“You want to adopt Cori?” She said moving closer to him.

“Yes, y/n.” He says grabbing her hands in his. “This; you, me , cori, it feels like a family and I want that with you and her.

You know I love you. You know I’m not one for words, but I know that you know how I feel.” He said in a low voice, squeezing her hands.

“Of course” she said reaching up to stroke his cheek with her thumb.

“ I never thought I could be so happy with anyone besides Shannon and Kelly. But with you and Cori...it not the same, but it’s just as strong. It’s our own happiness and I love it. I don’t want it to end. No matter what happens you and I are a family Y/N but it feels like she’s part of it too. He admitted emotionally.

“I love you. And her. I always told myself I didn’t need a family if I couldn’t have it with Connor. But then I met you. You became my family and having Cori with us... I just, I love seeing you as a dad. Your love for her and how much you care about us both makes my life complete and I realize that all the sad things in my life brought me here. Just like all the sad things in cori’s life brought her here. I think she belongs with us J.” She said as tears glided down her cheeks.

“Me too” he whispered wiping her tears “and I’ll fight to keep her here if that’s what she wants.”

“It is” they hear whispered from the other room as Cori stepped out from behind the wall.

“I want you to be my family!” She signed before she ran towards them.

Gibbs pulled both Cori and Y/N into a tight hug. All three of them had tears in their eyes at that point.

The next day, the case was officially closed and Jethro called the social worker. He explained that he and his wife were interested in permanently fostering and eventually adopting Cori. He swore he could hear the social worker smile through the phone.

It wasn’t every day a child lost everyone close to her and found another loving family. The social worker explained the process to jethro and promised to email the paper work. It wasn’t all going to be easy and the state would have to come do various in depth evaluations and interviews, but she assured him she thought it would work out if they were sure. He assured her they were serious about keeping Cori with them and ended the call with a smile.

As he hung up he turned around to see tony standing in the doorway.

“You look happy boss, it’s weird” tony laughed.

“Yeah, that’s been happening a lot lately” Gibbs joked back.

“So are you gonna keep this whole kid thing a secret too?” Tony asked earning a Gibbs glare.

“You know we would have all been happy about it right?” Tony asked pointing at the gold band Gibbs now proudly wore on his left hand.

Gibbs smile slightly.

“I know, and we would have told you. We just...”

“yeah I know, you’re you. Not a sharer.” The younger agent said causing his boss to nod.

“But you’ve got a lot of great things worth sharing Gibbs.” He continued.

“Yeah, yeah I do. I just like keeping them both to myself sometimes.” Gibbs admitted. “But you’re right, they’re worth bragging about.” He admitted causing tony to smile at his boss. “But right now I gotta get home to ‘em.”

Gibbs knew y/n would insist on celebrating with all of them once things were settled. right now, though, all he wanted was to get home and tell his sweet girls the good news. It might not be an easy road, but the three of them were going to do whatever they needed to stay a family.

“Hey girls” Gibbs greeted as he walked in the door.

“We’re in here!” Y/N shouted back.

He turned into the kitchen to find them both covered in flour, holding out a giant cake they had made for him with a messy “we love you” scrolled on top.

His heart clenched in his chest as he stood there looking at the two people he loved most in this world.

“We made you a cake since we know you had a long week and we wanted to thank you for fighting for us” Cori signed as she walked over to hug him.

“Thank you sweetheart” he said hugging her back. His eyes locked with y/n’s tearful ones as he mouthed ‘ I love you’ to her over cori’s head. She signed it back to him as she set the cake down and joined them in a hug.

“I talked to the social worker today” Gibbs said causing Cori to perk up.

“Oh yeah?” Y/N asked, knowing that he wouldn’t bring it up in front of Cori if there was no hope.

“ it won’t be easy, or a quick process” he smirked “but it’s possible. I’ve already started the paperwork.”

“Really!?” Cori whispered “you’re sure?”

Y/ N nodded at her “so sure”

“There’s nothing I’m more sure of than you two” Gibbs admitted. Pulling them back in.

#gibbs imagine #gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis

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wishingforatypewriter · 3 years

Text

Dream of Home

Note: Sort of written for Baavira Day under the prompt "Regrets" (but also late and kind of off topic)

Kuvira had thought to keep her mind off politics, as that was where all her trouble had really started—in newspapers and history books and the speeches of others who had hoped to bring change. She'd tried to fill her days with poetry and novels instead, and twirl on her tiptoes beneath the domes like the figure in a music box. Mindless and obedient, as Su had always wanted. But even that crude imitation of peace hadn't lasted long.

It had become something of a pattern lately; they came for advice and in return brought letters, clothing, small fragments of her former life. It was usually Korra who sought her counsel—sometimes Wu, or the new leader of some fledgling state.

It was both of them this time, the king and the avatar, asking for her thoughts on the protests cropping up in Ba Sing Se after the returning nobles tried to cast low-income workers out of the city center and restore the rings. They’d never be able to do it, of course; Baatar saw to that when he drew up the plans for the city’s reconstruction. But there was no doubt the nobility would come up with some new and creative way to oppress the poor without a strong hand to stop them.

She heard them out, read the statement the little king's advisors prepared and tore through it with red ink.

"There," she said, sliding the document back across the table. "Now at least they won't throw cabbages at you."

"You really do have a way with words, gumdrop," Wu said as he looked over the edits.

"Words aren't enough. If you want real peace, you need to put the nobles in their place."

"Legally," Korra added quickly.

He groaned, slumping down in his chair and Kuvira exchanged a tired glance with the avatar. At the very least, she didn't have to fly home with him.

"Isn't that what the Dai Li are for?" he whined. "Hey, whatever happened to those guys, anyway?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to," Kuvira told him.

They picked her brain for about an hour—taxation, infrastructure, transportation—and then Korra drew a sheaf of letters out of her bag

"These were at your place in Ba Sing Se."

"Thanks."

Kuvira knew better than to open any in front of them. A handful of visits ago, Wu brought a garment box that had been waiting for her in an Upper Ring boutique—her wedding dress, finished at long last. It had been so unexpected, so soul-rending, that tears welled in her eyes at the sight of it. She would sooner scoop her eyes out of her skull than let something like that happen again.

That night, after they were long gone, Kuvira opened the letters in her room, one by one. A few messages from friends still in the capital—Shan, who she had served with on the metal guard, got engaged to one of Baatar’s university friends; Lian, who’d always had a soft spot for children, was sworn in as Minister of Education. Also, a note from a little girl at one of the bending schools she founded, and a request for an endorsement from an up and coming politician.

She had almost believed that she'd get through the stack mostly unscathed when she came across the inquiry—a wealthy buyer looking to purchase the city estate.

Kuvira still saw the house every time she closed her eyes—the gates that moved like elegant clockwork under the slightest push of her bending, the turtleduck pond in the shadow of a dance pavilion, the his and hers studies equidistant from the master suite. The idea of some other family living in the only home she'd ever loved stole the breath from her lungs. But then she remembered that it was no longer hers to sell or keep or yearn for through long nights under a starless platinum sky. From the original sketch of the design to the matter of buying land within the royal mile, it had always been Baatar's house.

The walk from her room to his stretched on for an eternity. She tried to give him space to heal from her, usually asking Huan to convey any messages she had, but this...this was too personal.

Baatar didn't look angry when he opened the door, just a bit surprised. A small step, but a step nonetheless. "Kuvira."

She handed him the letter, trying hard to keep the anguish off her face. “Korra brought this when she came by,” she explained as he read it over in the doorway. “Naturally, I won’t argue with whatever you decide to do.”

He looked at her and sighed. “You don’t have to worry. I’d never sell it.”

"Why would you assume I was worried?" Kuvira knew the question was ridiculous even as she asked it. During the days of the Empire, this man had been able to intuit her moods from the sound of pen strokes and micro-changes in her posture.

"The chandelier for one," he said, and sure enough there was a slight trembling in the silver fixture. Another person might have chalked it up to a breeze gone by, but he knew better.

"Damn it." The chandelier stilled as soon as she noticed, but Kuvira still wanted to kick herself for letting it happen.

"Come inside," he said, likely more out of habit than true intent. He’d never been able to leave her alone when she was feeling like that. It was a rare exception in her life, the way he always pulled her in where others pushed her away. But in the end, she’d managed to ruin that, too.

“You shouldn’t feel like you have to keep it for my sake,” she said, once the door was closed behind them.

“It isn’t just for your sake,” he said. “That house is the best thing I’ve ever designed, or it would be if not for—never mind.”

“What?” Kuvira asked.

He shook his head. “No, let’s not.”

“Baatar,” she said, slipping into a tone she hadn’t used since before Republic City.

“Alright, fine. I always hated that turtleduck pond.”

Kuvira’s eyes widened. “Really?” she asked, remembering their many mornings spent sitting beside it, discussing infrastructure plans over breakfast and feeding the ducklings. “Why?”

He groaned. “It completely clashes with the architectural style of the house, and it’s symptomatic of that tacky kind of Agniphilia that’s plagued Earth Kingdom design since before the Hundred Year War. Li Na always said I murdered the house by adding it on.”

Kuvira felt her ears grow hot as he explained. She liked to think that her tastes had grown sophisticated over time, that she’d completely removed herself from her mother’s fake antiques and costume jewelry. “Then why would you even include it in the design?”

“You always talked about it when we were kids. A house of your own with a big library and a dance studio and turtleducks in the backyard,” he said, shaking his head. “At the time I cared less about the aesthetics than making you happy.”

Kuvira closed her eyes slowly, feeling a dangerous warmth pooling beneath the lids. She wouldn’t. She would not. Spirits, what was wrong with her lately?

“Thank you,” she said, finally. “For not selling it. And everything else.”

She slipped out of the room before she lost her composure entirely, and when she fell asleep that night in a lonely bed within a city that knew no stars, she dreamed of home.

#baavira #kuvira #baatar jr #legend of korra #baavira day #baavira day 2021 #regrets

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bearsinpotatosacks · 3 years

Text

Maybe Death is Just Going Home- A Spones Fic

The wind was soft on the back of his neck. Stroking the weak skin that was exposed. Sunrise was still underway, the blues and yellows and greens all mixing together.

His garden was thriving under the care of his yard workers, who he'd employed to do the tough work his brittle body couldn't take anymore. The pond near the fence was full of lily pads and flowers, fish showing their faces occasionally. Flowers poked their heads up to the sky from the raised flower beds. A wind chime jingled somewhere to his right.

He remembered a time when he didn't let himself enjoy these things. The song of a bird or the way a flower bloomed. It was the days of being a strict Vulcan, of denying the emotions that drove his species to pure logic and repression, of pushing his human half to the point of breaking with every breath.

His friends helped him cultivate these sides of himself. Jim through kind words. Leonard with initial harsh behaviour, that he realised was his affection and watched it melt into true care and love.

His heart panged at the thought of them, a pain he rarely let himself indulge in. There was little chance of seeing them again. Who knew how much time had passed for them? How old they'd be if he found a way to return home, an impossible feat, or if they'd even be alive?

There was even less of a chance of seeing Jim again. His research into finding him again had failed, even with the alternate technology he had at his disposal. There was no way to cheat death, especially one that happened in another world. They'd already done so with him and he didn't think it would be allowed a second time, or a third if you counted this universe's Jim.

He opened his eyes again. Meditation was meant to clear his head. But everything was too muddled lately to sort. He could feel the end coming.

The skyline far away melded into the sky. Ships left and arrived from ports. Cars and trains with families all on their separated journeys. Infinite possibilities.

He turned his gaze to the grass springing up and spreading out away from the glass of the city. The growing season was coming. Flowers blooming, the sun on his face. Storms were frequenting the skies more often, the grounds soft and supple from the rain.

He closed his eyes and smiled to himself as he felt the ache deep in his bones. Today was a good day to die.

"How old are you now?" A familiar voice pricked his ears. "And yet you can still cross your legs so wound up like that without pain?"

He opened his eyes. "Leonard." His husband.

"Who else is it gonna be?"

He raised an eyebrow and took in what was most likely a hallucination. Leonard's hair was grey and hands worn, circa their encounter with the Klingons just before the Enterprise was decommissioned. Just before Jim went missing.

His red uniform was smooth, unwrinkled against his body. A look of mischief filled his eyes, a rare sight but a welcome one. He'd accept anything after all the years.

"You do realise that this isn't real, and therefore there is no point in conversing with you,"

Leonard feigned hurt with a hand on his heart, "I came here to give you a peaceful send-off and here I am being insulted by the man I call my husband,"

"The statistical probability of seeing you as a hallucination, in a much younger state than I left you in, is impossible, "

"We have done many impossible things over the years, and besides, the last time I knew, you don't have conversations with hallucinations," He crossed his arms and sat on the wall to a raised flower bed.

"What is your suggestion then?"

"I'm an angel, sent from God, to convince you to come along and die,"

"There are two faults with your proposal,"

"Two?"

"Yes, two," He said. "That is a very Christian focused theory, Leonard, and as you know my belief systems are of Surak's teachings and Judaism,"

"Last time I checked, Christians and Jews have an overlap in a religious book, our old testament, your Torah,"

Spock nodded.

"And ain't the story of Abraham in there, where he was told by God he was gonna have a kid of his own,"

"Yes, your point being?"

"And ain't the Exodus story, the one o' Moses, have God showing themselves to Moses to convince him to free the Jews,"

"These are theologically correct, Leonard, but I am still waiting for a point," He smiled again, he missed their debates.

"If those events happened in our religious books then what's saying it ain't happening right now, bringing me to you,"

"I didn't know you believed these tales so strongly, from what I believe these tales are to learn lessons from, not to take any literal meaning. And both of your examples were God showing themselves, and we both know you are not God," He looked at him. "Therefore you're not here."

"My second point was that I am ready to die, and God, being all-seeing, would know that,"

Leonard got off the wall. The look of mischief replaced by concern and love. Death had always been a sensitive subject for him. One of the most common disagreements was regarding Spock's longer lifespan. And it didn't matter how many times he told him that they could have a relationship just like any other, he knew he'd never let the subject go.

"I do have one more question," Spock continued.

"What?"

"Your belief in angels, does it encompass the idea of the dead becoming them if they have lived good lives?"

The air wavered between them as their emotions poured into it. He thought they were both glad they knew some things without words.

"Yes,"

"Then that means that to get to me you must have died, which is counterintuitive to your plan of convincing me to die,"

"Why?"

He shuddered, his eyes filling with tears as his hands shook. "Why? Why do you think the knowledge that you died alone, without seeing me or having me by your side as you left this world, would ease me into death?"

The image of a fragile Leonard, delirious from pain medication, calling for him with his dying breaths flashed to the forefront of his mind. He shook his head to rid himself of it but only made it clearer as the silence dragged on.

Leonard's face broke into a slight smile to ease him. He stepped towards him and reached his hands out to him.

"I knew you'd say something like that, so I want you to know I was at peace," He said. "After one hundred and eighty-three years, Spock, I was very fulfilled and welcomed it, just like your doing now,"

Their eyes locked and words ceased. Spock's head cleared, like all he needed was a conversation with him to clear up all the metaphorical mud in his head.

"Come home to me, Spock,"

And he did. Standing up from his position on the terrace and fitting perfectly into his arms like he always did.

His hands traced the stubble on his chin as Leonard carded a hand through his hair, now black again due to his soul matching the time period. Their lips touched in a simple kiss and everything felt complete.

The sunrise dissolved away with the sounds of spring. And Spock was home once again in Leonard's arms.

And that's it! I got inspired by that scene in Beyond where AOS Spock saw a picture of the original crew and my angsty bittersweet brain got this question. How did Spock Prime die and how can I make that queer and peaceful?

I hope you enjoyed this, I enjoyed writing this!

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samwritesforyou · 4 years

Text

can the sinner get a happy ending?

Fandom: Code Geass

Summary: nunnally decides to clear lelouch’s name and lelouch - conveniently - around that time decides to visit his sister in disguise, because he just misses her so much. but what happens when he learns that people for some reason can’t remember him as a bloody emperor?

A/N: this fic is turning out to be longer than 15k already, so i will post only one part here, as of.. a “prologue”, or just a feel for you to what this story might bring with it. the rest i will upload on ao3! im really proud of this work :D enjoy!

also... im finally coming back to my favourite formatting of this “description” part for the fics, finally :D its been a mess last four fics, sorry! also sorry to everyone who doest follow me for code geass content, i will write different things too, dont worry!

Warnings: mention of a panic attack, no serious proof-reading

Wordcount: 4k (Prologue)

“Nunnally, I do not agree with this,” Suzaku said firmly, looking the empress straight in the eye, brows furrowed together.

“Suzaku-kun, I understand why you’re upset, but this will not harm the people in any capacity. I do this for my brother,” she stated just as strongly, not daring to shift her gaze elsewhere from his emerald pearls.

“But that doesn’t matter, using this power is just wrong!” he was almost yelling now, clutching his hand in the fist.

Whenever someone was talking about geass or even thought about using it, he always had severe reaction to that topic, probably due to all the trauma and suffering that it caused.

Kururugi has never had a fight with Nunnally yet, they had a calm relationship full of mutual love and trust. Despite her being Lelouch’s sister, she was never like him in any sense. And Suzaku feared the day once he’ll start to see the similarities. Despite loving his friend beyond any measure, his actions and thinking was oftentimes just.. extreme, to say the least. Extreme and dangerous, he was never supposed to gain the power he got ahold of. That’s what was going through Japanese’s mind as they were arguing with Nunnally.

She looked at him wide eyed and he could almost be able to see how the wall of trust they’d built together cracked ever so lightly, as the young empress lowered her gaze and sighed.

“Zero, this is an order. Tell Lloyd to have it ready by tomorrow,” there was such unfamiliar coldness in her tone that it made Suzaku stop in his tracks as she turned around in the wheelchair and started to drive away from him.

It was unfamiliar from her, yet.. so familiar from Lelouch.

There was hardly a day when he didn’t think of him. Either cursing him or praying to him to come back.

He didn’t wear a mask right now, because they were talking in the empress’ private rooms where no servants had access to, so he could be himself around here, yet.. yet she addressed him as Zero.

Suzaku’s green eyes shifted slowly, now looking at his feet.

He was clothed in the purple costume with gold lines, purple gloves and a white puff scarf tucked into the shirt. He hated it. He hated all of it. Every single fibre.

He fell to his knees, breath catching in his throat and he felt the familiar dizziness coming into motion.

He was having a panic attack.

It wasn’t anything new to him and Suzaku found out that the best way to fight it is to let it flow. Let it consume him and shiver uncontrollably, salty tears falling from his eyes onto the red carpet as he bowed his head to the floor.

He was alone possibly in the whole floor so there would be no one watching. No one acknowledging how much pain this human being has to endure, when his only wish is to die.. and when he can’t possibly even do that.

When he finally felt the convulsions stop and dizziness drifted away he sat up on the ground, lifting a hand to his face with a sigh that echoed through the richly decorated halls.

“What a fucking day,” man whispered to himself, slowly getting up and taking the mask of Zero, putting it on, feeling the material close surely around his head so no one could possible guess his true identity anymore.

The stare that nobody could see was deprived of any emotion. Now he was just a faceless person with a mission from the empress.

He went straight to Lloyd’s engineering wing, passing the painting of himself in the white suit as the pilot of the Lancelot, a piece of black cloth at the side of the golden frame, meaning that he’s still being mourned by the genius technician.

“Nunnally vi Britannia demands for the device to be ready by tomorrow,” he said sternly, never adjusting his cape as Lelouch always did - a waste of time and a touch that’s soaked with pretentiousness.

“Of course, Zero, your wish is my command! It’s almost ready anyways,” engineer answered, sitting alone by the table where he continued to work on some cables and connections to various pieces of metal.

He was offered to gain at least a dozen of good workers that could help him in his experiments but earl declined, saying that there’s nothing much to invent without his beautiful pilot and no grandiose war going on between Britannia and Japan anymore.

Suzaku just curtly nodded at that, staying watching him for a moment longer than necessary, just wishing he could reveal to him who he really is and that his pilot is still alive and well and could try some of his new knightmares if he ever makes some.

“Lloyd-san, it’s break time!” suddenly rung a high pitched voice through the empty working space as Cecile came closer to both of them with a little tray rattling with silverware and some food on the surface.

“Oh, Zero, I didn’t notice you come in,” she said sheepishly and smiled, pulling the tray towards him a little in an offering.

“Don’t you want to stay and have lunch with us?” she asked in her sweet voice, the one she uses when she wants to make the good impression, but Suzaku just sighed.

These two were the only people who didn’t really judge him. Even when they didn’t know his true identity, it almost seemed like they were friends like they were before. He liked spending time here, but possibly couldn’t keep them company in eating, since.. he couldn’t really take off his helmet.

“Cecile-san, you know that I mustn’t reveal my identity, hence I can’t keep you company at lunch. Only if I sat by the table without taking a single bite,” he said, a soft smile finally breaking to his lips, making the corners of his mouth go up just a little bit.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, finally realising why this offer wouldn’t work out, but then she said “oh” again and quickly made a beeline towards the main doors, locking them.

“But what if! I locked the main entrance so nobody could come in while we’re eating,” she started enthusiastically and then made another small run towards the light switch, looking with hope at her boss and then the masked man, “and we would also eat in pitch darkness, so you could finally enjoy something with acquaintances, like a normal person?” she smiled and then blinked comically, correcting herself and laughing nervously, “I’m not saying that you’re not normal, of course, I’m just. I realise that it must be hard to be wearing a mask all the time, mustn’t it?” she finished carefully, biting her lower lip.

“Cecile-kun, you’re making Zero intrigued, I think!” Lloyd barked a loud laugh, looking over at his ex-subordinate, “What do you say, Zero? I promise you no peeking!” he teased and got closer to him, wiggling his brows.

Suzaku couldn’t help himself but felt his smile growing wider at that suggestion. There really was no risk, right?

Did Cecile want to try it for a while now? Because it seems like a thought of plan, after all.

*If I keep shielding myself from others I might as well go insane sooner or later.. What’s the harm in one, pitch black lunch, right?..*

Suzaku thought to himself and then nodded.

“Okay, why not?” he said, making Cecile excitedly jump in the air and Lloyd lean deeper into his chair with a pleased hum.

“Alright! On the count of three I’ll turn off the lights and then.. hopefully make it to you guys without any problem!” she explained and on the count of three she really turned off the lights.

Suzaku wasn’t rushing in taking off his helmet, at first waiting for Cecile to make it safely to their little table. It.. was really dark.

“Cecile-san, please be careful,” he said, now being kind of nervous for his friend.

“I’m okayyy!” in the end of the sentence she yelped, because her outstretched arm collided with Zero’s mask, making a low thud, “I.. suppose I made it to the table, right?” she laughed and Suzaku gave out a chuckle as well, carefully putting her hand aside, so she could find the chair to sit on in this ridiculous darkness.

“Okay, so.. I’ll just warn you that I won’t be speaking while we’re eating, because I have a voice modifier inside that distorts my original voice,” Kururugi explained carefully, waiting for their reactions.

“Ahhh, so you can’t be tracked even by voice recognition, that’s very smart!” mused Lloyd, already, what it seemed, with a mouthful of food, “Or you’re someone who we know, so you don’t want to be recognised! But that’s less probable than the first point,” he concluded to himself, now apparently drinking something.

“I won’t comment on that, Lloyd-san,” Suzaku said and then sighed, “Itadakimasu.”

And with that, the only sound in the room despite the munching on the food was the noise of Zero’s mask unzipping and being put near him on the ground.

Japanese inhaled sharply, filling his chest with some fresh air, even though they were inside.

He finally scratched his nose and then rubbed his eyes, using all of the time he has without a mask. Being without it in public was a really rare occasion, so he felt ecstatic, thinking that.. maybe one day his life might get better.

Once he took a big bite of some veggie balls that were on the plate in front of him, he already wanted to say how delicious it is, especially compared to first things she ever cooked for them, but then stopped himself, instead just gulping down the food.

He noticed that the other two were silent as well, probably honouring the fact that one of this trio cannot talk. How nice of them, truly.

During the whole process he was careful of sounds to be able to in time put a mask back on if needed, but nothing really happened. He only heard some clicking, as if someone was taking glasses on and off two times, but other than that, nothing. It was probably Lloyd messing around anyways.

He sighed with relief when he finished, reluctant to put the mask back on. Despite of being in the dark for so long, his eyes didn’t adjust and he still couldn’t see anything, probably because the place was really devoid of all light at the moment.

Then he shook his head to himself, thinking that revealing his identity would be too risky at the current situation, so he put the mack back on, making a clicking sound in the dark.

“I’ll turn the light back on,” Suzaku said and luckily didn’t collide with anything on his way there.

Once the light was back on, the trio grunted in unison, their eyes certainly not being able to absorb this all at once.

He didn’t sit back down to the portable table but just stood next to it, looking at Cecile.

“Thank you for the meal, it was very delicious,” he said, smiling at her.

“I’m glad it was,” when she lifted her dark blue eyes at him, it looked like she’s been crying, so he got instantly worried.

“Are you okay?!” he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“I am, thank you, it’s just the sudden light,” she laughed weakly in response, placing her gentle palm on top of his hand, squeezing a little.

Suzaku then pulled away and nodded, still with a warm aftertaste of being treated like an actual friend or an acquaintance.

“I’ll get going then. See you tomorrow, Lloyd-san,” Zero turned away on his heels and made his way from the engineering lab.

“Cecile-kun, the tears weren’t from the lighting, were they?” once they were alone, Lloyd looked at her with a pleased grin, swiftly putting his hand into her pocket and taking night vision glasses out of there, waving them in the air in front of her, “Who is he?”

“I’m sorry, Lloyd-san, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you,” she said with a warm smile, a single tear falling down her cheek, “but he is a good person. We can definitely trust him.”

Life went at significantly slower pace in the countryside than in the city. Nobody was busy.. there actually was *nobody*. Only him and C.C.

The perfect solitude life for two sinners who wanted to make their wishes come true.

Lelouch was just in the middle of harvesting some plants from their little farm, taking breaks every so often because his physique didn’t improve even in conditions like this.

The strew hat oh his head protected him from the angry sun that was shining though the eternity of summer in these lands.

“C.C., can you please get me a container for these? I think it’s better to grow them inside, they’re dying out there on all this heat,” ex-emperor barged into their house with two plants in his hands, taken out of the ground with the roots, waiting for help from the green haired companion he had by his side.

“Uh-huh, sure,” she put away the knitting equipment and lowered her bare legs from the table she was resting on, getting up to her feet, making a beeline for the back room, where the junk of all sorts was stored. For situations like this.

She looked around the whole room, noticing old Zero suit just hanging by the wall, some markers and scissors peeking out of the pockets. She sighed and lowered her olive eyes, finally finding what her partner has asked her for.

With two brown-ish pots in hands she went back and put them on the floor in from of the skinny man, returning to the back room once again to get some fresh soil for the poor plants.

Then she came back for the second time, plopping next to the bag with terra, tearing it open and pouring the soil into the pots.

Lelouch was looking at her this whole time, as if exploring every millimetre of her pale skin. He did it often now. Paying more attention to the details and that made him even the better deduction master than he’s been before.

Sherlock Holmes was onto something, truly.

He could now finally put the plants into their new home now, patting the ground with his elegant fingers, making sure they’re steady in it.

Then he placed them next to the dining table and wanted to go out again.

“Lelouch,” simply said C.C., taking her knitting needles in hands alongside the purple yarn which for the most part was being dragged behind her as she followed him outside.

“Hm?” was the only answer she got, as Lelouch continued taking care of the garden, completely immersed in the activity.

Or maybe his mind was thousand miles away..

“I miss you,” she stated, still knitting, kind of furiously, even though her face was unchanging.

“What? I’m right here,” he chuckled, his hands firmly in the ground, making sure that the plants have enough space to grow and expand.

“No. The old you, the one who was always in motion, who didn’t let life stop him, the one who made me feel like life is a game worth winning,” she said, her hands slowing down in the tempo of her activity, “I feel like you’re losing yourself too.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment after that, working like some gardener, brows furrowed together.

“But we won, C.C. This might not be the life that you nor I want to live, but that’s a small price to pay for the world to stay in peace, don’t you think?” he finally met her eyes, lifting his amethysts from the greenery.

“What about Nunnally? Don’t you wanna see her?” there was no hesitation in her voice as the man got up from his knees and pointed a finger at her in a warning manner.

“I told you to never say her name aloud..” he whispered, no signs of anger on his face, only sadness pooling in his dark, beautiful eyes.

“So you just want to forget her? Or what? What’s your plan?” she stood on her tiptoes now to get closer to his face, talking in the same semi-whispering way, not willing to step down.

This kind of rivalry was the thing that kept these two going in the most dire times when they just wanted to fuck it all and return to the old swing of things.

“I have no plan,” said Lelouch so closely to her lips that at some point of his phrase they touched and he then pulled away, making his way back to the house.

“Hm. What a sore loser,” she mused with a smile on her face, following him and plopping herself on the couch, knitting away.

For the rest of the day they didn’t exchange a single word.

Suzaku was dreading today. The day started already badly from the beginning.

He woke up with a headache and outside was pouring rain, attacking large windows in his private rooms, sound echoing through the space that lacked furniture.

Despite having amazing athletic skills, the curly haired boy was still very skinny for his height and his depression often made him feel like he doesn’t even need or deserve to eat anything.

He sat on the bed, white shirt loose on his shoulders, shuddering to himself.

It was so dark. And lonely. Everyday was the same. Lonely, lonely, lonely. Alone. Echo drifting through the void of his existence, springing off the rich, gold decorated walls which mean absolutely nothing to him.

He hated to reside in the royal palace but he would hate even more to be somewhere alone.

Here he at least has Nunnally... someone who knows completely and unconditionally who he is.

His first plan of action each morning is to wake her up, let her dress and then go together to the dining hall and have breakfast. Only after that they would proceed to go on official side of the business.

When he came to her room and saw an empty bed his heart sunk uncomfortably fast and Kururugi rushed to it, seeing a note neatly folded on the sheets.

*I’m sorry I didn’t tell you beforehand, but I will be in my office earlier today. Have something to eat and then bring me the finalised Product. We’ll hold the ceremony in the evening.”

It said and he slowly slid his fingers over the letters, face growing grim.

The product.. she meant the geass button. His stomach curled up and he started to feel nauseous.

If any doctor would see Suzaku right now, they would probably tell him to take a vacation at least for a month and rest for the eternity of it.

There was no professional to stop him, though, so he just stepped hard on all of his emotions, knitting his brows together, putting the Zero mask on.

He marched from the private empress wing and saw quite a lot of commotion, probably because of the speech that Nunally will be giving later.

A lot of people started coming up to him, saying “Zero please do this and that” and Kururugi just waved them all away, for once without any capacity left to feel guilty that he can’t help with preparations.

Soon enough young man found himself in the technician part of the palace where everything was more silent. Way easier to bear the silence here than in his room, he noticed.

“Ah, Zero, welcome!” mused Lloyd, greeting his with open arms, “Everything is ready! Still don’t understand why would the empress need such a device that never brought nothing good but I guess it is not my business to ask, am I right?” he smirked and looked at the masked person, hands on hips.

“It indeed isn’t,” said Suzaku in the low tone, just being fed up with this day. He’d much rather take off his mask and tell the whole world that his death was a lie instead of even touching the device that can inflict such a power. Power that he despises.

But he can’t do that. He can’t do that because he is a slave. He always will be. Lelouch was right. He just lets people to spit on him over and over, in the end not changing a single thing in the grand scheme of things.

Suzaku wasn’t the greatest politician, despite his dad rooting heavily in politics, and so japanese were actually still being oppressed. He just didn’t know how to solve it. He wasn’t as great of a leader as Lelouch was, as the real Zero was.

He’s just a mere replacement that can’t even do his job right.

So he will take the geass button that Nunnally requested from his friend that doesn’t even know who he is, he will ignore Cecile-san as she comes in just seconds before he leaves and waves enthusiastically at him, he will continue in his heavy steps all the way to the palace, he will shrug off every single interviewer that wants to have a discussion with Zero, leader of a nation, he will knock on empress’ office where she is ready for the speech to give to the whole population. And he will bow down before her, getting on one knee, giving her the power he hates. She will just curtly nod at him and then put the device carefully in her lap, just out of reach of the camera. He will stand beside her as Zero, and there will be silence before the broadcast.

He is just a servant. Merely that.

“Nunnally,” he said, devoid of any emotion left, “you still won’t tell me which order are you going to give?” he was looking straight into the tv screen in front of them, as the countdown showed still two minutes left before the beginning of the stream.

“No,” she said seriously, looking at the same direction, tensing up.

“So it will work on me and I won’t even know, huh,” his tone was now softer and quieter, accepting the fact that his most loved person alive is essentially doing what he hated the most.

“No. I got that checked up, Suzaku,” in her voice could be heard a small smile, probably a sad one, as she continued “Apparently the order that my brother gave you was so powerful that you’re immune to any different type of geass,” she said with a deep sigh, “so you’ll hear it and won’t be affected. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

He couldn’t answer her anything on that because the timer was already up and the political duo went live to the millions of people that were watching, all around the globe.

The topic of the speech was supposed to be about more liberation rights for Japan, so that created a lot of so-called “hype” amongst the citizens, britannians as well as japanese. The maximum amount of people were watching and they will all obey the empress. That was the plan.

“Nunnally vi Britannia commands you,” with hearing these words Suzaku got goosebumps, his hands squeezing the handles of her wheelchair as much as he could to prevent himself from doing anything that he might regret later, “please, everyone who is watching this or hearing this, forget about the fact that the 99th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire was Lelouch vi Britannia. From now on, you will all remember him as just a person without a face, someone who wanted to rule the entire world, but it wasn’t him. It wasn’t Lelouch,” she said, after pressing the button.

Even a normal person could feel a literal surge of some energy coming out of the room they were in and Suzaku widened his eyes as he heard the order.

His mouth hung open as he was trying to make sense of what she just said.

Nunnally cleared Lelouch’s name.

Nunnally... cleared Lelouch’s name.

Kururugi couldn’t focus on anything that the empress proceeded to talk about after that, staring blankly at the wall and for the first time he was genuinely glad that he was wearing a mask, so that nobody could see his shocked expression.

A/N: this fic can be now found on ao3! i wont be updating it here on tumblr because that would be just too many chapters and that's just... too much work fdsjfjsf

#code geass fanfiction #code geass #suzalulu #suzalulu fanfic #suzaku kururugi #lelouch lamperouge #suzaku kururugi fanfic #lelouch lamperouge fanfic #im SO PROUD of this work i hope people will notice it

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