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amessageonthewind · 8 months

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September Selfship Prompts Challenge

30. Farmers market (or another free day if you want :))

Pairing: Adaman/Rachel during Legends: Arceus (spoiler alert for really far along in the timeline)

Author's note: Clue and Hint are OCs that belong to my buddy @kammyclues. This is also a direct sequel to free day prompt.

Content Warning: Pregnancy and birth.

Things were not easy since finding out about her pregnancy. Maybe she should’ve been more responsible, been more careful, but no amount of ‘should’ves’ would change the current circumstances. She was, so now she had to figure out how to move forward. What the best course of action was.

Adaman agreed that until Rachel made a decision, they would keep this secret from everyone else. There was no point getting anyone’s hopes up or worrying anyone if she decided against it. Rachel asked Captain Cyllene for the week off, and again, she did so without resistance. She trusted Rachel to know her limits and she rarely asked for breaks.

If she needed one, there must be a reason and Cyllene was not entitled to the reason why. Rachel’s personal business was her personal business.

But she was taking what Adaman said seriously and taking the time to decide how she would proceed. And the first step, ironically, was talking to her Pokémon before anyone else. Their unique perspectives might be just what she needed to make her decision clear.

So, all before her on Prelude Beach, she had them all out of their Pokéballs. She took some of Hint’s ginger tea with her so she could brew it at home (though, she would make it a point to visit her this week; she must be worried) and she brewed herself a cup this morning. Ugh…morning sickness. Rachel had no idea that she would ever be in this position. Zinnia was her first relationship and obviously kids weren’t really a thing that could happen to them.

This was all new and incredibly daunting for her.

But she had to focus. All of her Pokémon were lined up to give their assessment, Cedric standing on a nearby rock. Once they were away from Hint’s retreat, Rachel explained it all to them, and they were equal parts concerned and a little excited. She couldn’t blame them, they were more wild creatures than the Pokémon of her time. This must feel like one of their own laying eggs, if a little different.

Though, the fact that Pokémon laid eggs was not common knowledge in this time period. Something that was very entertaining to explain to Adaman one time.

All of them stood before her like a council, and in essence, they were her council right now. She needed to make a decision, and she needed their help to make it. Since Adaman was committed to being completely impartial, it rested on her shoulders.

But her Pokémon wouldn’t be.

“So…here’s the situation.” She prefaced to her Pokémon, all of whom were watching her as she paced back and forth on the shoreline speaking to them. “The question isn’t whether I stay or go. I have to go back home, there’s no question and that’s not up for debate and it’s nonnegotiable. I don’t belong here…I have to get back to my family, I can’t abandon them. They need me. Whatever happened right when I got pulled in, I need to help them overcome. I just need to figure out how – or even when – that’s possible with the rift closed…but that’s not the question.

“I’m carrying Adaman’s child…I would leave the child with him and the Diamond Clan to raise. That’s the reality of having it.” The decision was simple. Simple, though not easy. “The question is…do I have the child or not?”

Wallflower, her Lilligant, tilted her head confused at her wielder. “Well, what do you think you should do?”

“I don’t know.” Rachel said, sitting down on the sand. “That’s why I’m asking all of you. You all have perspectives I could learn from. And I want you all to be completely honest with me, so don’t try to soften it for me or let me down gently to avoid hurting my feelings. Just be straightforward about what you think.”

Looking between each other, Vendetta was the first to speak. Of all of her Pokémon, Vendetta was the most of an outlier. Vendetta, as a Zorua, initially tried to lure Rachel away using her memories – at least the ones she had access to – to trick her using Zinnia’s visage.

Though, Vendetta couldn’t fully trick Rachel – she couldn’t get Zinnia’s smile right.

Her loyalty was the most difficult to earn, but she piqued her curiosity first, baffling her with the concept of hatred, rage, and spite being forces for good and kindness and compassion rather than destruction. Vendetta wanted to understand what this meant, so Rachel gave her that opportunity.

Vendetta saw for herself what it meant through Rachel, and so her undying loyalty was earned. “If you were to have this child, it would be well protected.” She said plainly, looking towards the others. “It will grow strong in the care of the Diamond Clan. Both you and Adaman are strong individuals, and with your blood running through its veins and the Diamond Clan raising it, it will grow strong and healthy. If it’s what you want, I think you should. You would have nothing to worry about.”

“I agree!” Wallflower cheerily added, holding her leaf-like hands close to her chest. “After all, it’s not like Adaman will have to raise the child alone. It will have an entire community that will love it and raise it as much as you would. If you want this child, it will be in good care!”

Stormfast grunted disapprovingly, shaking her head. “You already have a mission objective. You must go back to your time. Having a child would only complicate that, attaching roots in a time you don’t belong in, making it harder to commit to that decision.” She said sharply. The Samurott had always been serious and to the point. “Having a child will only serve as a distraction. I don’t think it’s wise.”

“Besides, think of the child.” Helix said meekly, now a Goodra stepping forward with his head bent down. “It will always grow up knowing that something is missing. It may not remember your face or your voice, but everyone else will remember you and talk about you. It will always feel a void where you’re supposed to be and wonder why you didn’t stay. It’ll be lost without you…”

All good points, Rachel supposed. But that was an even split between those that approved and those that wouldn’t. Adaman would have an entire community’s support behind him to raise the child and the child would be strong. But, having the child would make leaving harder and she would be lying if she didn’t have the worry in the back of her mind of the child thinking that Rachel didn’t want them.

That she didn’t love them. That it was somehow their fault.

But that was still two for two, and she was no closer to being sure about what she should do.

There were two left who didn’t voice their opinions. “Oracle? Emberheart? What say you?” She asked them.

Emberheart was always the independent one and always sure of what she wanted and what she thought. She was the one who was always committed to staying her course. “I don’t really think it matters what we think.” She said to her wielder, feeling a bit guilty that she couldn’t really contribute her opinion to making Rachel’s decision easier. “We can tell you what we think all we want, but it has to come down to you and what you want. The decision is yours, not ours.”

Oracle, her Braviary, sat calmly among everyone. All their eyes were on her, but she only stared directly at Rachel, the psychic flames of her crest billowing away serenely as she thought. “Truth be told, both decisions will come with a deep emotional pain that cannot be undone. And nothing that we will say will be able to alleviate that.” She spoke, stately and finitely. “I’m afraid there is nothing I can say that will make that decision easier. You must decide from what you deeply desire in your heart.”

Great, so it was two for yes, two for no, and two for completely impartial. It was a complete and total tie and Rachel was no closer to actually making any kind of decision.

There was only one left who didn’t voice his opinion. “Cedric…?” She gently pried. The dark-furred Zorua’s ear flicked in acknowledgement. “You have to be the tiebreaker. What do you think…?”

It was incredibly hard to say what he thought. Everyone else was thinking of the child, or in Oracle and Emberheart’s case, what Rachel wanted. But all Cedric could think of what how much having to make this choice was eating away at her. She couldn’t think about anything else but this and it was affecting her deeply, and it would continue to affect her long after regardless of what decision she made.

His input wouldn’t change that. But…maybe it could. “What are you more willing to live with regretting?”

That question was something she wasn’t prepared to hear and it threw her off for a moment. “What…?”

Cedric sighed, hopping off the rock he was sitting on to approach her. “You’ve been agonizing over this non-stop. The fact that this decision isn’t easy for you to make is exactly why that is. It means that no matter what decision you make – you’ll regret it one way or another. There’s really no avoiding it.” He paused, standing right in front of her on the sand, looking up at the trainer he had known for so long and had invested all of his trust and loyalty into. Through thick and thin. “So I ask you…what are you more willing to live with regretting?”

Rachel had to take a moment to think about that. What was she more willing to regret? What was she more willing to let haunt her? What was she more willing to have as a ghost in the rest of her life? That was a difficult question to answer, so she had to properly think about her decisions in a different context. Not as which one was more painful to deal with in the moment, but which one would be worse to live with afterwards.

She had to imagine herself, living a life after this, back home…back with the people she loved. Back with Zinnia, Clue, and Cynthia. Wherever the future took her, wherever she went and travelled to, what would she regret remembering more? What would she think about and wish she could go back and change more?

Admittedly, the thought of her child – her and Adaman’s child – running free in the Diamond Clan made her smile to herself. The thought of their child being doted on by Mai, fussed over by Arezu. What would Palina and Iscan think of their child? What would Melli think? That was an entertaining thought.

And Adaman…oh, he would love that child so much. She could already tell that he would be a good father.

The thought of that child growing up with Adaman and the Diamond Clan brought her a warm spark of joy that kindled in her chest. The thought of that not happening…drove a sharp pain through her chest like a knife. If she had this child, she wanted that child to grow up with the Diamond Clan. She wanted that child to grow up surrounded by such a loving and devoted community.

She wanted that child to be raised by Adaman. And she wanted Adaman to have that child.

If she left the child here in the past with Adaman and the Diamond Clan, there would be regret. But she wouldn’t regret having the child. She would regret having to leave it. But none of the sorrow of leaving that child would live in her as long as the joy of having it, of seeing it loved and cared for by Adaman and his family.

But if she decided not to have it…that wouldn’t happen. And that would haunt her worse and for longer than having the child and leaving it.

Her eyes felt tight and she blinked to try and dispel that feeling, but this wasn’t a feeling of sorrow or despair. This wasn’t quite happiness, either. It was melancholic, bittersweet. It was…both. The warmth and the joy of having a child with Adaman, and the pain of knowing she had to leave them both.

Despite this, she knew what she had to do. She knew what her choice was.

Standing up, she looked at all of her Pokémon and then down at Cedric. Naturally, he was once again the voice of reason. I really would be lost without you… “I know what I want to do.”

Though she had made her choice, she still didn’t want to rush her decision. Adaman told her to take plenty of time to make her decision, and Rachel intended on making good with that time. She needed to sit on that decision, stew in it, chew on it, let it sink in and really understand how she felt about it. Cedric could tell she was serious.

But the idea struck her when she was in her workshop, just idly looking at some of her ideas that she’d written down. A way of breaking the news to Adaman in a very special way. She practiced carving wood with her Black Augurite knife in order to make little statues while she was out on her ventures. She started simple and slowly got more complicated and practiced with them.

She had the perfect idea for how to tell Adaman, and having that idea genuinely made her excited for the prospect. The impending sorrow and pain of the future separation was nothing compared to the warmth and joy she felt thinking about their child. That was when she knew she was committed to her decision.

So, she took the time. She had a Leafeon and an Eevee she wanted to pose as her subjects, and once she had what she wanted, she got to drawing and then to carving. She took as long as she needed to, to plan it, to carve it, and then to finally paint it.

And soon enough, in a week and a half, she had the perfect announcement gift for Adaman.

Rachel made the venture to the Crimson Mirelands atop Wyrdeer. She didn’t tell anyone else, yet, as she wanted Adaman to be the first to know about her decision before anyone else. Then…they could tell everyone together. He seemed surprised to see her, and a bit apprehensive. She couldn't blame him, after how intense their conversation was last they saw one another. It was painful not to see him for so long, but they both agreed it was best for her to be on her own to make this decision herself.

But she was here, and immediately eyes were on her. She had a feeling they all suspected what was going on, but soon their speculations would be put to rest.

In their tent, Adaman sat her down like he did before. “Since you’re here, I’m assuming you’ve made a decision.”

Rachel nodded, leaning against him. She’d missed his comforting scent and the soothing touch of him. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed him until now, so preoccupied with her decision and her special announcement gift.

But it felt right to be with him, again, especially knowing what her decision was going to be. “I have.”

Adaman held her hand in his, raising his eyebrows. He tried not to let his hopefulness show. This was her decision, after all, he didn’t want to influence her. He’d be lying if he wasn’t imagining the same things she was in his time apart from her. He, too, was imagining their child playing with everyone in the Diamond Clan, his family doting on her as much as he would. He knew in his heart that if Rachel wanted their child, he would love them with all of his heart. The prospect of fatherhood had never even really occurred to him until her.

Smiling, Rachel tilted her head. “Close your eyes.”

Adaman squinted skeptically at her, but did as she asked and let his eyelids fall shut. He could feel her taking his hands and moving them so that they were open, palm facing up. Something wooden was pressed into his hands and a small hand was now holding his shoulder. “Alright, you can look, now.”

Opening his eyes, he was met with a beautiful sight in his hands. A small statue of a Leafeon curled up around a sleeping Eevee. It looked like it was handmade, and he’d seen a few of Rachel’s carvings to know that she made this.

For…him.

Did she…was she saying…?

Eyes wide, glistening in the lantern light of the tent, Adaman looked at Rachel hopefully. He was trying very hard not to burst into tears, but he could tell she could see right through him. “Does this mean…?”

And truthfully, Rachel was no better, unable to hold back herself. “I’ve decided…I want the baby. If you do…”

He couldn’t hold himself back. Gently placing the statue on the end of the bed, he quickly grabbed a hold of Rachel and started to tearfully pepper her face with kisses. Neither of them bothered to try not to cry, anymore, pure undistilled joy radiating from the both of them as they grabbed at each other, crying and laughing with each other. Now, Adaman could properly express his joy without having to worry, anymore.

The man had the self-imposed permission to be happy about this. “Of course I want the baby, if you do…!”

Rachel laughed as Adaman covered her with so much affection and attention and hugged her tightly. This was why she’d made her decision. Even after she was gone, even after she was no longer in his life, his happiness and joy at the prospect of being a father was more than enough for her. Adaman would be happy long after Rachel was gone, and that was why she could live with this decision knowing she had to leave.

“I do…!” She giggled between weeps as they held one another in the tent. “I really do!”

Adaman paused, holding her face in his hands. Her beautiful, soft, and very loud face. “And you’re sure you’re alright with this? Even…leaving?”

Rachel nodded. “I didn’t like the thought of not going through with it.” She said to him softly, reaching out to him to perform the same affectionate gesture. “The more I thought about it, the more I knew I would regret not having the baby. Yes…I’ll regret leaving. I know I will…but I’d rather live with the regret of having to leave you and our baby than live with the regret of not having the baby at all. Because I knew…in my heart…that even though I’ll regret leaving, I will never regret having them.”

Gingerly, she brushed that one unruly stray hair off of his forehead and gazed affectionately at the man. “And I will never regret having them with you.” Though it would be painful to say, she couldn’t leave Adaman without saying it. She knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t have the chance to tell him what she really felt.

What she felt, what he knew she felt, but she couldn’t say out of fear that it would make her leaving more painful. What was it…? ‘Running away from the things that scare you won’t make them go away. The only thing we can do is learn from them so that we can face them.’ One of her Pokémon said that…she was sure. She just couldn’t remember which one. “I love you, Adaman…”

Feeling his heart skip a beat, Adaman nearly collapsed then and there. This was all just so much for him all at once, but he didn’t mind. Not when he was this happy.

Leaning forward, he held her close as he kissed her, taking the time to truly appreciate and take in the woman he loved so much. What did he ever do to deserve this blessing from almighty Sinnoh? “I love you, too…” He murmured against her lips.

The announcement came soon after. The both of them told the Diamond Clan the good news, and naturally, they all rejoiced. As expected, Arezu immediately started to fuss over and plan everything from the nursery to maternity clothes, and Mai simply gave her congratulations while giving Rachel lots of tips and advice for child care, such as how to support the baby while holding it. Naturally, Arezu already suggested a baby sling.

Rachel was fully prepared for Melli to scoff her off, but to her surprise, he was overjoyed. He already proclaimed himself as Uncle Melli and proclaimed himself to be the most brilliant uncle to Adaman’s child. Though, he was still a bit annoyed and disappointed that it had to be her, but that was to be expected. She knew he didn’t really mean it, he was just overcompensating.

And these days, they didn’t really hate each other, at least not genuinely. It was more just friendly competitive ribbing more than anything else. So, naturally, any of his snarky quips in her direction were met affectionately in kind. Great almighty help Adaman if the kid starts to turn out like Melli. She couldn’t help but think.

Adaman then invited Irida and the rest of the Pearl Clan to the Crimson Mirelands so that they could announce the pregnancy. Irida was over the moon, showering both Rachel and Adaman with her congratulations. Lian was already thinking of gifts, which Melli immediately tried to one-up, and Calaba was giving her congratulations and offering her services as a midwife for when the baby came, which was immediately met with competition from Mai.

Palina and Iscan arrived together and she was quick to give Rachel her congratulations. She admitted that since the festival, she and Iscan were able to be more public about their relationship and this announcement only further encouraged them to not have to hide. Idly, Rachel wondered if perhaps a little one was in their future, someday.

She was sure they were thinking about it, at least.

Ingo’s congratulations were ones that Rachel would cherish forever. She only ever saw him smile twice. Once when she first engaged in a Pokémon battle with him, helping him recover some of his memories, and now…when he came to share his joy with her about the baby. “Bravo, you two! Bravo!” He said warmly to the both of them. “I’ll be sure to reroute my tracks to make frequent stops until the little one arrives at their station safely.”

Every celebration and every congratulations made Rachel more and more sure that this was the right decision. The baby wasn’t even here, yet, and already she knew that they were going to be so loved by everyone. It gave her hope for what she was leaving behind.

It would make the sting less painful knowing she would leave behind something wonderful. Something that would bring everyone together like this.

Finally, Adaman and Rachel both made the journey to Jubilife Village to make their announcement. Naturally, Cyllene was concerned as to why Rachel had been spending less time in the village, but immediately understood once they made their announcement. Like Ingo, Cyllene wasn’t one for showing emotion, though she wouldn’t necessarily describe Ingo as ‘stone-faced’ like she would Cyllene.

But Cyllene simply smiled and told Rachel that her maternity leave would be taken care of whenever she was ready to take it and any supplies she needed would be provided by the Medical Corp to support her during her pregnancy and delivery. Captain Zisu was also quick to offer her services as a midwife, and Rachel would’ve felt overwhelmed by all the support she was getting if she wasn’t immensely comforted by the thought that the birth would be surrounded by familiar faces who were there to help her.

It was what Kamado said that stuck with Rachel the most. “Your child will grow up with everything a child could ever need. Protection, a home, a loving family, and a strong community. A child whose parents are as strong of leaders as the both of you is no doubt destined to succeed. You have my blessing.”

After everything they had been through, and especially after Kamado had betrayed and exiled her, that meant everything to her. That he had so much faith and belief in her that he was confident that her child would grow up into someone to be proud of. That she was someone worth looking up to.

And considering how much Kamado had lost, what he said about community did not pass by her unnoticed. She, too, was glad her child would grow up with security, especially now that the Diamond and Pearl Clans could finally coexist fully in peace together.

She didn’t have to worry about her child having to face war or losing her home to Pokémon or a rival clan. She had every confidence her child would live a full life.

That was all Rachel could ever want for her child.

All that was left to do was take every day one day at a time and wait for the months to pass. Rachel was frequently between Jubilife Village and the Diamond Clan Settlement. Much more than usual, now. She was still well enough to do her Survey Corp work for the first few months, but she needed to be careful. Her physical stamina wouldn’t be able to take much more if she pushed herself too far.

She really needed to heed Hint’s advice.

Of course, Rachel also visited Hint frequently. After all, she figured Hint would want to hear that she decided to keep the baby and hear how she was doing. Afternoon tea was becoming a regular thing and she quite enjoyed spending time with Hint like this.

Eventually, the months passed and Captain Cyllene had to essentially force Rachel to accept her maternity leave from the Galaxy Expedition Team. She figured it was better to settle in the settlement itself where she could be closer to the Diamond Clan when she had the baby. Many preparations were being made for the arrival and thus far, there were no complications, thankfully.

She’d received many gifts in the coming months closer to the expected delivery. Adaman doted on her frequently the closer she was. Granted, walking was a bit of a struggle and the physical toll it was taking on her was incredibly obvious. But she didn’t like how helpless she felt during this time. Even her own Pokémon were becoming more and more protective of her, snapping at anyone who approached. It took her a lot of effort to calm them down and reassure them that no, Arezu and Mai were not a threat to her or the baby, and no, Adaman was indeed necessary to be here.

It was tough. But thankfully, the Galaxy Team was being very helpful, sending Paselle from the Medical Corp over with Zisu to do frequent check-ups on Rachel. The closer the time came, the more paranoid Rachel was about every single movement. It was so strange to feel the movement. It felt strange and unnatural and it was definitely…new.

But it was her baby in there. She couldn’t wait to meet them.

And the universe seemed to agree. Her water broke early and everyone rushed to her aid to help her as labour began. Messages were sent out and the necessary parties arrived. Rachel was holed up in one of the tents to have complete privacy, save for everyone who volunteered to be a midwife. Mai, Calaba, Zisu, and Paselle were all in the ‘delivery room’ with Rachel, and Adaman and her Pokémon were forced to sit outside.

Thankfully, Irida and Arezu were here to keep Adaman company so that he didn’t lose his mind. He already hated the feeling of waiting. He hated feeling like he was wasting time that he could use to help or do something productive. But realistically, there was nothing he could do and if he tried, he would just make it worse.

Ingo was insistent that they ‘stay behind the yellow line.’ He and Sneasler were standing guard over the entrance to ensure no one would enter and disturb them while they were working to help Rachel. He could hear them from inside and it only served to make him even more worried. He was fiddling with the beaded clasp holding his haori together and bouncing his legs anxiously. The feeling that he needed to be doing something was overwhelming. How long had it been? Two hours? Three? He couldn’t tell, and the worst part was that he wouldn’t know how long this would actually take.

For all he knew, this could take a few hours, or it could take a day. Maybe even two, if she was particularly unlucky. He hoped it wouldn’t take that long. He hoped she would have it easy.

“Hey, take it easy, Adaman.” Arezu said, trying to soothe him, putting a hand on his shoulder. It was natural for him to worry – it was his baby, after all – but all this worrying would drive him into an early grave before he would even get to meet the baby. “We’re worried, too. But we have to just let them work.”

“I know, I know…” He grumbled, his heart rate going high since she first went into labour. He tried his hardest to stay calm, but this had never happened to him. It was never his baby or the woman carrying it that he ever had to worry about, before now. It felt so different, and he couldn’t even be there to see her. “You know how I feel about waiting…I just can’t shake the feeling that I need to be there. That I need to do something to help.”

“They’re doing everything they can to help.” Irida said, putting a hand on his shoulder to try and assure him. Over the time they had spent together, with Rachel as the in-between, she had come to admire him and care for him as a dear friend. Adaman had grown to be important to her, and Rachel was her close friend, too. She wanted nothing but success and blessings for them, but she knew better than to try to interfere. Even with good intentions. “But Rachel’s strong, if she could face mighty Palkia and Dialga and live to tell the tale, she can overcome this. She has many people in there helping her, and I know from experience that Calaba is incredibly capable. She’s helped deliver so many of the Pearl Clan’s children. Rachel will be fine…”

The reassurances were helping, but the antsy anxious feeling Adaman was saddled with and struggling with wouldn’t go away. They just wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure if he would feel better constantly checking how much time passed using the settlement’s sundial, or if it was better that he stay here and not know so that he wasn’t counting the hours.

Cedric had taken to curling up in Adaman’s lap. He was just as worried as the man was, but there was little Cedric could do, either. He had to make sure her other Pokémon weren’t overwhelming her and the insistent glare Ingo was giving off was directed at them too. They knew better than to test him.

He could feel the distress and the pain coming from inside and he struggled to not stress himself out. As much as he could feel it billowing from inside, there was no sense of panic, yet. No one was freaking out and no one was rushing. It was just routine, thus far. Rachel wasn’t even panicked or freaking out, thankfully. Everyone who was helping her was doing a good job keeping her calm.

All that was left was the pain and the strain of what she was going through.

At some point, a few of them had fallen asleep, unable to stay awake with the exhaustion of stress. Irida’s head was resting on Adaman’s shoulder while Adaman’s head was resting on hers. Cedric was trying to stay awake, but he was tired, too. How long had it been since labour began? Who could tell?

Beni arrived to provide a meal to anyone who was waiting. He was concerned about her just as much as anyone else, and he figured the best way to contribute was to keep spirits high and stomachs fed.

After all, there was a lot that a warm meal could do to alleviate stress.

On and on it went. Periods of worrying, talking to try to keep calm, and a meal to keep stable. Adaman refused to leave until the labour was done and he could hold his baby. It didn’t matter how long it took, Adaman was not leaving. And Irida and Arezu were not leaving him until they were sure that everything was alright.

Eventually Adaman’s Pokémon started to worry about him and surrounded him to try and keep him calm. Cedric assured them all that so far, Rachel was doing fine. In pain and stressed, obviously, but nobody was panicking and nothing seemingly unexpected was happening. Everything seemed to be going exactly as expected, from what he could tell from the emotions radiating from inside.

Then…finally…after over eight hours of worrying and worrying, the unmistakeable sound of a baby crying snapped Adaman out of his stress nap and he was on his feet immediately.

He stepped up to Ingo, fully prepared to barge in when he and Sneasler firmly stopped him in his tracks. “Please stay behind the yellow line.”

Adaman was tired of waiting. He needed to know if his baby was okay! He needed to know if Rachel was okay! “That’s my baby in there, Ingo! I need to –”

“I understand your concern, Adaman, but safety measures must be followed for the safety of all –”

But then, Calaba stepped out from behind the screen where the delivery room was. She looked pleased, but incredibly tired. Adaman wasn’t sure that a woman as old as Calaba could get any more wrinkles, but he could swear she just gained a few.

His heart was beating out of his chest and all he wanted was to know that everything was alright. He could hear his baby crying just behind the tarp right now! “Well?”

“Congratulations, Adaman.” Calaba said warmly, her smile stretching across her skin decorated with age. “You’re the father to a strong and healthy baby girl.”

All at once, a surge of emotions swept over him like an ocean wave. Immense relief that it went well, and pure unadulterated joy. Breathing heavily disbelief made itself at home in him, but the sort that made him realize how fortunate he truly was. He was a father! “Adaman…! You have a daughter!”

“I have a daughter!” Adaman cried happily after Irida. It didn’t feel real. He had never felt so happy in his life. He had a daughter! He was going to be a father to a beautiful baby girl! He was already wondering who she was going to take after, who she was going to look most like and who she was going to act most like.

But he wasn’t going to know any of that until he saw both of them with his own two eyes. “Can…can I?”

Calaba nodded, parting the tarp for Adaman to pass. “Go ahead. You’re welcome to see her, now. Just be mindful, she’s exhausted.” She said gently to him. Of course Adaman was going to want to see them, first. “Go on…”

As Adaman stepped inside, Irida and Arezu waited to be given permission. Irida wasn’t entirely sure whether the invitation for just for him or not. “May we…?”

“All of you are welcome.” Calaba assured them, turning to Ingo as well. “Just remember to keep your voices down. She’s had a hard delivery, but she’s healthy as well.”

The three of them followed the old Pearl Clan warden into the delivery room behind Adaman, standing at a distance as they admired her and her new baby.

Of all the things she had gone through, all of the things she had lived through, she had never felt so exhausted. The closest possible thing she could possibly compare this to was when she woke up in the hospital after battling Deoxys. And even then, her entire body wasn’t in pain then like it was now.

And yet, she had never felt so relieved. So relieved that her entire body was numb, now. She felt limp and weightless, the space that was once occupied in her body was now empty and she felt, quite frankly, like a deflated balloon. An exhausted, hurting, and emotional deflated balloon.

Eight hours of labour and she could finally hear her baby’s voice for the first time. Immediately, her heart lurched out of her chest, her instinct to comfort and soothe going into overdrive as she weakly reached for her baby from Paselle. Zisu had been holding her hand for the majority of the labour, Mai on her shoulder giving her encouragement all the while.

Paselle was the one performing most of the medical work of the procedure while Calaba was in charge, giving everyone pointers, tips, and orders for what to do, directing everyone to do their part in helping Rachel deliver her baby.

Paselle and Calaba were looking over her baby and Rachel weakly called out and reached for her baby. It was crying! It needed its mother! It needed Rachel!

Then, wrapped in a soft swaddle, Rachel’s arms were filled with the most precious treasure she could ever hold. Cooing and murmuring once it was placed in her arms, Rachel immediately held her close. Despite all the effort and energy she’d spent pushing this little human out of her, her heart still had enough to beat wildly when she was finally able to hold her baby.

This was hers. The baby immediately calmed down once in its mother’s arms and Rachel couldn’t help the overflow of emotions that spilled from her eyes. “Hello, little one…!”

“Congratulations, Rachel.” Calaba said, gently patting Rachel’s hand with her own. “You’ve given birth to a healthy girl.”

A girl! She had a daughter!

Holding her daughter, she realized she’d never actually held a baby, before. She was so small. So little. At the sound of her mother’s voice, she continued to coo and gurgle, reaching a little tiny hand out from the swaddle to reach for whatever was nearby. She couldn’t open her eyes, yet, but she was trying to find something to grab and hold onto, getting frustrated as she started to whine and even cough. Her little lungs were only so old.

Letting her daughter hold onto her finger, she immediately calmed down. There was no grip behind her tiny little fingers and her hold hand wrapped around her fingertip. Her hand was so little! It was so hard to think that something so small and so helpless would be able to grow up into a full-grown human being.

Would she be more like Adaman? Or like Rachel? Only time could tell.

“Hi there, little girl.” Mai said quietly, gently petting the baby’s head through the swaddle. She wasn’t an overly emotional person, but even Mai couldn’t help but tear up seeing the little thing. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m your Aunt Mai.”

Weakly, her daughter giggled. The gesture must’ve felt funny. Her skin was so soft, it must feel so sensitive. Physical sensations were brand new, for her! Voices were brand new for her! Everything all around her was brand new.

Her mother was brand new. “You did a really good job, Rachel.” Zisu said, patting Rachel’s shoulder and looking down affectionately at her baby. “I can tell already…your kid’s gonna be a feisty one. She’ll move mountains, that one.”

“You did very well.” Paselle said brightly to Rachel, preparing some supplies on the bedside table. “Now, I don’t recommend you get up out of bed unless you feel ready for it. Listen to your body. Avoid doing anything strenuous and please take good care of yourself.” Rachel listened carefully to the advice Paselle was giving her, paying heed to the Medical Corp nurse. “Eat healthy, drink plenty of water, keep clean, get ample rest, and keep a simple routine. That includes for your baby. Keep her clean and comfortable, and remember: health comes before responsibilities.”

Her daughter was wiggling around in her swaddle, sputtering a bit while Rachel adjusted her in her arms so that she could be more comfortable. “Thank you, Paselle.” Rachel said softly, looking at everyone who helped her through this. “All of you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Calaba nodded, smiling. “Shall I let her father meet her?”

Oh, Adaman must be so worried. She knew how much he hated waiting normally, but he must be worried sick. She couldn’t imagine him staying still and not trying to come in at every opportunity. “Please…and let the others meet her, too.”

Calaba nodded. “I’ll go let him know so he can stop fussing.”

Letting the old Pearl Clan warden go, Rachel looked down at her baby. Her daughter. Her and Adaman’s daughter. She was the most beautiful sight Rachel ever did see. To think that she would have to leave her daughter behind…

But, seeing everyone around her, helping her bring her daughter into the world, Rachel had a brief moment of postpartum clarity to think. These people…the people of Hisui had lived in this world long before she was born. And they would live in this world long after her. She didn’t have to worry about them, anymore. She did everything she could for them to secure a peaceful future for all of them.

They would be fine after her. Her daughter would be fine after her, once she was old enough to be able to live without her.

Besides, she had yet to confront the conflict between Dialga and Palkia in her time period. The incident that had happened right before she was pulled into Hisui. She needed to find a way to deal with that.

And her family…Clue, Zinnia, and Cynthia…she didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to them. At least here, she could say goodbye to everyone, but she didn’t get that chance then.

She needed to be able to get the chance to. If Rachel stayed, she wouldn’t ever get that chance. She needed to get back to them.

Rachel was so afraid that having her baby would make it more difficult for her to leave, to keep to the decision she’d made. In reality, it only made her decision stronger. She had every assurance that her daughter would grow up loved and supported by everyone around her. There was no better time or way or place for her to leave her daughter.

Kamado was right. Her daughter would have everything she would ever need. And she would grow up into someone that everyone would be proud of. Rachel would only regret not being able to be there to see the person she would grow into.

Adaman walked into the room and the moment their eyes met, a fresh set of tears rolled down both their faces. Here they were, as a family with their newborn daughter within both of their reaches. Gently, Adaman walked forward towards Rachel, as though every step he took could collapse the tent. The moment he laid eyes on his beautiful baby girl, his heart swelled three sizes. He never felt so much love for another living being as he felt for this little bundle of joy.

Crouching beside Rachel, he softly kissed her forehead, resting against her as he looked down at their daughter. She looked exhausted, heavy bags under her eyes and a distant look in her dark eyes, but he saw nothing but love and affection for him and their daughter reflected back at him.

Irida was right. She was incredibly strong. “She’s beautiful.” The Pearl Clan leader spoke before Adaman got the chance to, standing on the far side of the room along with Arezu and Ingo, who tipped his hat at Rachel.

That was the third time Rachel had ever seen him smile. “Bravo, Miss Rachel. Bravo.” He spoke quietly, reverence in his tone as he saw the new happy family before him. “The little one has reached her station. May I request an engine check?”

Rachel nodded, smiling with a small laugh at her dear friend. Her fellow time displaced companion. “Spent, but all is well. She’s healthy and I’m okay. All is well.”

While Ingo kept his distance, still smiling at her, Irida and Arezu all approached to see the newborn girl. Zisu and Paselle all stepped back to let them all get a proper look at her. Arezu was already cooing and fawning over her. “Look at her…! I think she’ll have her papa’s hair!” She commented, pointing out the faint blue fuss slightly poking out from the swaddling on her head. “Oh, Auntie Arezu is going to love styling your hair so much when it grows out!”

“Hehe, I have no doubt she’ll grow up into a strong, beautiful, kind, and passionate woman.” Irida said affectionately, leaning against Rachel as she took in the sight of the new life in her dear friend’s arms. “Just like her mother.”

Adaman couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey! Rachel’s not the only pretty one in this relationship.”

Despite how weak and exhausted she was, Rachel couldn’t help but laugh. “No, he’s right. He’s just as strong, kind, and passionate. And yes, he’s very pretty.” She smiled down at her. “Which means that she’ll be twice as pretty as the both of us.”

Adaman couldn’t help but admire the woman who had brought his daughter into the world. Even after spending eight hours pushing a human being out of her body, she still had it in her to make silly jokes. He truly loved this woman. Though he’d be sad to see her go, he could never regret having her in his life. Especially now that she had given him a beautiful and wonderful daughter. “Do you have a name for her?” He asked gently, cradling the baby’s head with his hand. It looked so small in his large hand. “I was hoping you would name her…so that she would be left with a piece of you.”

Admittedly, Rachel did have a name in mind for her daughter for quite some time. But, she was always open to suggestions. “What do you think of the name ‘Clara?’”

Adaman smiled affectionately at the both of them. Rachel, the woman he loved, and…Clara. His daughter. His dear daughter new to the world and immediately loved by all. “Clara…it’s perfect.” Leaning down, he reached to hold his daughter, Rachel letting him cradle her in his arms as the baby cooed and gurgled at him. “Hi, Clara…I’m Adaman. I’m your father…you have no idea how wonderful it is to finally meet you.”

Everyone in the room was staring in awe at Adaman as he held her. As Rachel saw him hold her, she got a brief look of what life would look like without her in it. Soon enough, there would come a day when she would never get to hold Clara ever again. When Adaman would hold her while saying goodbye to Rachel for the last time.

There was a melancholy feeling that settled in her chest. “I’m just sorry that I won’t get to see her grow up…but I know she’ll grow up and she’ll make everyone so proud.”

Adaman understood the regret she felt about that. She knew what she had to do, but that didn’t make this any easier for her. But, he had been brainstorming something for some time. “You know, I was thinking…” He prefaced, standing close to Rachel so that she didn’t have to be far from Clara. “Stories can be passed down through time. What if we all collected heirlooms and letters? If we wrote letters to you over the course of time to be passed down to you somehow?”

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Irida interjected, holding her hands together. “We can all write you letters and give you gifts! And we can find a way to make sure it gets to you, somehow!”

“Does that go for all of us?” Mai asked curiously.

“Of course!” Adaman nodded, addressing everyone. “Anyone who wants to leave something for Rachel, however many somethings can participate. And then, in your time, you can read everything we have to say…and this way, you’ll get to see Clara grow up. And she can write to you, too.”

When he said that, fresh recollection flashed before her eyes. Her grandmother…she had a box that was meant for Rachel to be passed down through their family. With letters and various relics from the past. She’d read a few of the letters and entries from a journal inside. The more she remembered, the more she realized something. Her parents named her after an ancient figure in ancient times. Someone who appeared and showed people that Pokémon were not something to fear not just tools to use. The letters were addressed to her.

But right now, Rachel realized the truth. It was no wonder she hadn’t met anyone who shared her name. It was no wonder she never met anyone who could be her ancestor, save for Volo and perhaps by extension, Cogita.

Those letters were never addressed to someone that Rachel was named after. Her parents may have named her after that person, but that person that they thought existed never did.

Because those letters were addressed to her. They were meant for her.

Rachel was never an echo of someone else. She was never a shadow of someone from the past. She was herself. It was her. It was always her. Those letters, everything in that box that had been passed down in her family – that started here. Somehow, this idea started here and the fruition had been passed down to her.

It was meant to. Which meant that…she was meant to go home.

“That’s…a wonderful idea.” Rachel said, fresh tears streaming down her face. For the first time since she’d arrived in Hisui, she achieved some sense of clarity. A sense of hope. Genuine hope. She didn’t know how, she didn’t know when, but she knew she was going to go home. She had to! She needed to go through that time capsule and read everything in it, now that she knew the truth behind it.

As Adaman looked over at her, he immediately grew concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Smiling, Rachel wiped her tears and looked at everyone. Even once she left, even once she was gone, this wouldn’t be goodbye. Because she would get to hear from them, again. She could get a window into their lives after her. And her daughter…she would get to see her grow up, even if she couldn’t be there to see it.

She wasn’t someone who believed in destiny. After all, in her mind, destiny seemed like an incredibly cruel thing. It took her away from the people she loved, it took away her parents and left her and her sister alive as orphans, and it nearly took Zinnia’s entire life and free will away from her.

But perhaps…just this once…she could let herself believe that fate could be kind. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong.” She said, looking up at the man she loved, their daughter she treasured immediately and worked so hard to bring into the world, and all of the friends she held so dearly in front of her.

“Everything…is exactly the way it should be.”

#SafeshipSeptember #୨⎯ A Message On The Wind ⎯୧ #୨⎯ Then It Has Done You No Good At All ⎯୧ #୨⎯ Leader of the Diamond Clan ⎯୧ #୨⎯ Pokémon Trainer Rachel ⎯୧ #୨⎯ Tricky as a Fox ⎯୧ #୨⎯ Leader of the Pearl Clan ⎯୧

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easily-bullied · 2 years

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foolish

Ok so out of a constant need to preface every action I take with unneeded context so as to protect myself from criticisms I would never receive, I have to say that I don’t know how tumblr works and I don”t know if im going to be using it right but I want a space to write and for reasons I don’t want to look at right now my diary has to be out where anyone could see it even if no one ever does.

Im high. I wonder how many of these I will be writing while high. I hope I dont keep track. I dont want to get more depressed.

I’m feeling listless as usual these days. to set the scene, im a 30 year old trans woman who came out 2 years ago, and in the last year I lost my dog, my girlfriend, my dream home, and my job in that order. So anyways right now it’s been a low season. It’s been a big reset and I had no agency in any of it. In some ways I feel like the last life decision I got to make for myself was coming out. I dont think any of the shit i’ve gone through this year is a repercussion of that decision though. Its a decision that impacts every facet of my life but even with that I think it’s unrelated. hard to separate them though, like if I let my mind wander unchecked it makes a connection and I hate that. It’s not that coming out didnt have some consequences that were difficult or sad, but like I just don’t want to add to the list.

listening to some sad music and writing some emo shit like this is really taking me back. Im so in my head about how old I am right now. it’s fucking me up and it really shouldnt bug me. I should go smoke more.

I didnt smoke more. Wanted to keep you updated.

Anyways, I’m listless. I have big decisions to make but right now I have no wants or motivation. Like obviously Im depressed but still I guess it frightens me that I wont look forward. Focusing on no isnt good either I dont think. My best friend is moving away, I’m just in my apartment all day.

Its honestly funny how much shit I’ve gone through the last little while. Like it sucks in a lot of ways, but also it validates my status as The Main Character, And like FYI it isnt that fun being the main character, But it is funny and it certainly is interesting. Im just worried that after this latest big status quo change, next season is going to be kind of messy. I’m worried that it’s not gonna be the type of show I’m used to. I guess I get to decide what kind of show it is. Thats kind of the big scary thing about it is that I just don’t know where to go from here. You spend like literal decades of your life with only one desire and you withhold it from yourself that whole time and then when you get it you look around and realize that because you fucked around for so long you didnt bother to want any other things for your life. Obsessing over wishing I was a woman, now I am one (always was blah-blah-blah) and its like ok well that was easier than I thought, now what.

Obviously right now theres some ongoing story threads happening but they feel placeholder. The further mending of my relationship with my mom, but thats basically wrapped up at this point. There’s the semi serious fwb situation with a girl from out of town but I don’t see that storyline having legs, if it does I won’t be disappointed I guess, but I would be surprised. It started to quickly after my break up, I think the vulnerability I had at that time lead to the increased intimacy that we have now. And now I’m in an isolating state so I can’t be vulnerable with anyone knew. I had told myself I wanted to enter a hoe phase but it turns out I don’t have that energy rn. Maybe thats depression or being 30 or I just never had that in me.

I just want the next season to be fun, I want it to be fruitful and full of artistry and joy and freedom. Thats where I should be pointing my compass. I’ve been focusing on work and money and that will work itself out. Im white passing, I’ll be fine. Visibly queer I guess, but thats part of the whole thing. I just need to work at a library. All my problems will be solved.

OK I feel better. I’m gonna put this away. thanks

#transfem #first post #diary #lgtbqia+

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diavolosthots · 3 years

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Hello! I love your work! I was so happy when requests was open. Can i request the brothers reaction to MC with cut scars? Have a nice day!

This is a really tough topic for many so let me preface this by saying

!!!!THIS!!!!

Is the link to a post with several countries' national suicide hotlines. If YOU or ANYONE you know is going through something and needs help PLEASE reach out to someone. Don't internalize your pain. My own messages are also always open if you need to vent/rant.

Warning: mentions of self harm/cut scars, tw self harm

THE BROTHERS reacting to MC having scars from cutting

Lucifer:

As someone who pays a lot of attention to detail, it was hard not to notice, but at the same time, he doesn’t feel like it’s all his business. If they were fresh scars, he’d definitely question you. You’re way too important to him and he’s not going to let you continue to do something so long lasting without getting professional help. “You need to talk to me, MC. I care about you and I won’t let that go on any longer.” If, however, there’s no signs of recent ones and he deems them to be ‘old’, he’s going to subtly hint at them but hope you open up to him enough to tell him about your past worries. “Your arms/thighs/stomach are so gorgeous.. I believe they deserve extra love tonight.” Either, he’s here for all of you and he’ll make sure to show some extra love to those spots.

Mammon:

Maybe it’s because he’s always around you or maybe it’s because he most definitely loves you, but it surprisingly doesn’t take him that long to notice, either, but his stomach turns every time he sees them. Not because he hates you for them! No, quite the opposite, actually. He hates whoever or whatever caused you to turn to such extremes. He’s quite blunt about it and would immediately question you about every. Single. One. Of course, to most this would be a super sensitive subject and they’d need time, but Mammon is extremely worried and he just can’t have you do something so ridiculous when he could just keep you safe and away with him. “Tell me, MC! I… ya can’t! Ya know how worried that makes me?!” And he doesn’t mean to be loud or harsh or anything, but in his mind, you’ve already contemplated the worst and he doesn’t want to think about the worst. He wants to help.

Leviathan:

He’s noticed and he’s decided to not say anything. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he put himself in your shoes for just a moment and he isn’t sure that, if the roles were reversed, he’d want you to speak up about it. He thinks it would, if anything, just make him shy away more, so he opts for other things. He tries to be more physical and comforting, and also just a little bit more open with himself in the hopes that if he is open with his own life, you’d be more open with yours. “One time I purposefully ran against a wall because I felt dumb and it chipped my horn a bit.” He’s never admitted that to anyone and please don’t ever repeat it. “Do you.. Uh… hug? Yeah? Okay…..” and then his arms are around you and he’ll awkwardly pet you and tell you that he loves you, a lot.

Satan:

Much like Lucifer, his attention to detail is immaculate and he’s quick to catch on, but also much like Leviathan, he doesn’t want to say anything right away. He does keep a VERY close eye on you though and later, when your relationship has been a little more established, he does mention it. “What happened here?” But he doesn’t sound pushy or anything, just a genuine question. Depending on your reaction, he might cradle you into his arms like a baby, or become super serious and ready to listen. Either way, he will get every little detail out of you whether you realize it or not and in the long run, you’ll be sure to thank him. No one should have to suffer alone and no one should suffer if they don’t deserve to. And you don’t.

Asmodeus:

He feels… bad, but not in a pitying way. He feels bad in a way that screams “who hurt you that you think you need to hurt yourself? Why is your vision so blurred that you fail to see the beautiful, intelligent, and very kind human being behind it?” You know? He’s all about self love and self confidence and self care. He’d never outright point them out, or at least not at first, but he’s going to take some time to properly spoil you and take you to spas, to massages, shopping, out for lunch, do some photoshoots with you… you know, anything to make you realize that you are worthy and you deserve to be spoiled and seen as this amazing being that you ARE. And then, when he feels like you kind of started to believe him, only then will he bring it up and break down all the lies you’ve told yourself over time, building them back up with nothing but beautiful facts.

Beelzebub:

He hates them. He loves you but he hates them. Obviously there’s a cause and although they’re not… bad in the sense that it would ruin the relationship for him, he is absolutely livid inside at the fact that someone or something could make you feel so low, even if that someone is yourself. He’ll make sure to point out things that remind you of him and compliment you a lot more. A simple “I love your hair today.” or “you smiled when we saw those flowers earlier…. Let’s get them.” means a lot to him and he hopes it means a lot to you. He won’t bother you too much about them but you can totally see him sneak some glances and wishing he could have been there when things weren’t too splendid to make you see that none of it was worth it. Whatever happened happened, though, and he still loves you regardless.

Belphegor:

Probably takes a while to notice unless you point it out yourself. He’s always snuggled up in his cardigan so if you’re one of those people that’s always snuggled up in their clothes as well, he won’t even question it. But once he figures it out, he’ll just frown and be, admittedly, a little less than gentle in his ways of trying to get information from you. Chances are, you’ll break down, but you have to understand he’s not mad; he’s worried. After everything he’s done to you and then had to rebuild, seeing something like that is a punch in the gut. Obviously he’d never blame you but by God he’ll find every person or thing in your life that has ever contributed to this and eliminate them, no questions asked. He’s going to be your protector, sloth be damned.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #cheys headcanons #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #mammon obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #satan obey me #obey me beelzebub #tw self harm #tw scars

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herorps · 3 years

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shadow and bone and racism

shadow and bone just came out so i can now finally break my silence bc holy shit do they go ham on the racism and me being me, i just have to tell you all about it. possible spoilers and triggers for anti-asian racism and microaggressions.

to preface, i was very privileged to receive a screener for the entire first season last month and i was actually excited to watch it bc i have friends who love the books and the show piqued my interest since it was announced. and i also have to say that i never read the books and i probably never will ( tho i’ve been told i would like soc ) but i did like the show overall.

i think sab is a good adaptation and that the fans will like this show. i thoroughly enjoyed it and as someone who had very little to almost no knowledge about the books, i didn’t have trouble keeping up with the fantastical world.

however that doesn’t mean i can’t be critical of it.

i think the show can actually benefit from people being critical about it because so far, it feels like they took a very tone deaf direction and ran a marathon with it.

what i’m talking about, is alina starkov being half-shu.

now, i said before that my interest was piqued for this show when it was announced and one of the major reasons is the casting of biracial actress, jessie mei li, in the role of alina starkov. i can’t tell you how happy i was to see that a half-chinese actress was cast as the lead in a series based on such a beloved ip, especially since the creators of the show consciously changed alina’s ethnicity to be half-shu before casting calls were even sent out. ( for those of you who are also non-book readers, shu is the race of people from the country, shu han, and is based off primarily mongolian and chinese cultures )

so i was endeared with the idea that this character, that is coded white, was deliberately changed to be coded asian ( and coded mixed race to boot ) because the producers wanted to include diversity into the show. i commend that, i love that, i support that. but i believe the way they handled it, shouldn’t have been the way they handled it. and it’s because alina’s race is constantly brought up.

obviously of course race is going to be brought up at some point. alina in the show is surrounded by white people when we first see her, and her home country of ravka does have a hostile history with shu han----i get it. racism is going to play a part in alina’s story. but it doesn’t necessarily need to go so far as to constantly remind the audience that she is shu in almost every interaction she has with someone she meets.

and that’s a big part of the issue, is that nearly everyone she meets will bring up the fact that she’s part-shu. and a lot of the time, it’s said with hostility. now i’m not exactly sure if i’m just being particularly sensitive because of certain recent events, but the anti-asian racism hits differently these days. idk.

because that’s what it is, at the end of the day. it’s racism. alina is often the target of very hostile racism and it seems to mainly be directed at her character and her character only.

and honestly, on a surface level it makes sense, i sort of understand what the producers are trying to do. ravka has a turbulent history with shu han and were involved in wars with them and they’re often seen as the enemy so obviously that would affect a shu-mixed person growing up in ravka, a very white country. but on a deeper level, it reminds me a lot of the anti-japanese sentiments during wwii. the production team even created a banner that i felt called back to those anti-japanese propaganda of that era. ( mind you it was shown multiple times, in main focus, and acknowledged by characters that were coded shu )

but on the other hand, they’ve done a considerable job to diversify at least the ethnic makeup of ravka. there are black and brown grisha at the school and there are people of different cultures ( noted by costuming, etc. ) in ketterdam and there’s even a shu-appearing trainer that teaches the grisha to fight. so my question is, why is this very hostile treatment primarily geared toward shu people and geared toward alina specifically? it just doesn’t make sense to me.

and when i say it’s specifically geared toward alina, i mean that it’s very apparent that they’re targeting her specifically, because mal ( played by a possibly mixed-race archie renaux ) is also coded to be of mixed shu blood. while it is not explicitly stated that mal is shu, it is heavily implied that he is mixed, but he is never subject to the treatment that alina is, and the only times he is subject to racism is when alina is also present. in scenes where we see alina and mal as kids, they are often both referred to as “mutts” or “half-breeds”. but when they are older, only alina is continuously called those things.

this isn’t even touching the microaggressions she faces after she’s at grisha school and this one line that made my gut wrench so viscerally i had to pause the episode and replay the part so i could confirm what i heard. [ episode 3 spoiler warning ] i’m trying to avoid posting screenshots or from spoiling parts of the show but there’s a scene where alina is being cleaned up and made presentable by servants and one of them says “I’d start by making her eyes less Shu.” [ end episode 3 spoiler ] i don’t think i have to explain to anyone how offensive that is. and i understand that the intention was to show how racist this servant is, that the entire point of of this weird racism plot is to show how the people of ravka can be racist and ignorant, but to have that line be written by a white writer, approved by a white showrunner and said by a white character to the face of an asian actor/character feels very tactless. it feels like another antagonist alina has to go against is racism itself.

what also turns me off about this scene is that jessie mei li revealed that this scene is what actresses had to audition with. “...the sides that they sent for the audition, like Alina is talking to Genya and they’re talking about her eyes and they’re talking about her Shu ancestry.” having actresses of mixed-asian ancestry come in and act out that scene for white producers doesn’t really sit right with me. and i know that there’s an argument to be had about how it’s important to show the minutia of what it’s like to be ethnic in a world ruled by white supremacy and that it’s important to show how alina’s race affects her story, but i don’t think that going this far is necessary to the development of plot or character.

and i don’t personally know jml, i don’t know how she feels about the show apart from what she’s probably briefed to talk about in interviews, but it is perfectly valid for me to feel iffy about the microaggressions while she feels that it’s necessary for character development ( again, this is just an example, i have no clue what she thinks of the racism ). our experiences are different, our upbringings are different, but we’re both happy to see representation and i’m happy that she’s happy to see an actual mixed-chinese character on screen as the lead.

i’m glad that the producers were open to diversity and were open to making the lead a person of color, but it’s things like the treatment of shu characters and exchanges like “Tell her...Oh, I don’t know...good morning.” “I don’t actually speak Shu.” and “I didn’t know the Zemeni had such talent.” “She’s Suli.” ( zemeni is a race of “dark-skinned” people and suli are coded south asian/mena/wena so this exchange is just white people mixing the brown people up ) that remind me the majority of the writers and producers are white.

now i’m not saying that you should boycott the show or that this show is the most problematic thing to ever grace my retinas, because i really enjoyed watching it and i want to see what season 2 has in store ( more crows content please ). but, i want you all to please keep all of this in mind when you watch the series and think critically of what kinds of unconscious biases these producers had. you’re allowed to have nuanced opinions, you’re allowed to be critical of the media you enjoy so long as you understand where some people’s criticisms are coming from---where my criticisms are coming from. i just hope in future seasons the treatment of alina gets better and that she actually learns to love her shu side because otherwise it’s just going to be problematic as the show continues.

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #six of crows

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

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Be Forever Young (Reid Fluff Fic)

Summary: After Penelope’s resignation from the BAU, she attempts to set up her tech protégé, Reader, with Reader’s intellectual match yet much older counterpart - Dr. Spencer Reid.

A/N: The POV switches between Reader and Spencer, just use context clues to detect who the narrator is. Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: 21 year age gap, headcannon proposal Playlist: Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny Word Count: 6.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Prologue

Events like these weren’t exceedingly rare. They weren’t anything like Halley’s Comet, by any means, where it only happens once in your lifetime - if you’re lucky. But they weren’t exactly sunrises - something that you can count on occurring every day without fail.

The best celestial phenomenon I could compare it to are blue moons. Rare enough to still have an element of surprise when they came, but not so rare that I should never expect them.

These ‘blue moons’ are actually the events in which I meet an intellectual match.

It’s not too often that I find a mind quite like mine, so you’ll forgive me for the reaction it elicits to watch them transcend the physical level and connect with me on the psychological one. There’s only been a handful of people who’ve ever had the exact standard of aptitude to be permissible into this metaphysical world with me, but now - there’s a handful and one.

The newest addition to the list is her.

_ _ _

Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia is nearly impossible. Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia about Dr. Spencer Reid is impossible.

I couldn’t tell you when the first time she brought him up was, but I could probably tell you just how many times since then she’s mentioned him.

A trillion. At least.

For months on end, he was the only thing she would talk to me about. Morning, noon, and night. Every single day she’d gush about him with the same unrelenting zeal as she had the day before and the day before that. It was both scary and impressive how she never seemed to run out of good things to say about him.

“You would just die for his apartment. It’s got this super chic dark academia thingy going on. You’d be really into that,” she would say. Or something to that effect. I was never really listening.

Not that I wasn’t interested in learning about Dr. Reid - I was very interested in him.

As a superior.

I first learned of him when he taught my Psych 101 class. Freshman year me was simply enthralled with him as a speaker, probably due to the charm of his awkward humor. I found it eerily relatable and touching, in a way. That was probably my favorite class, minus the assholes who made it less than enjoyable at times. (That’s a story for later).

The next interaction I had with him happened not even a year later when he came back after temporarily teaching to sit in on a philosophy class. Even though he was only auditing the lecture, whereas I was enrolled in the course, he ended up sitting in the seat right beside me. Had he not been gifted with an eidetic memory - a fact I found out during one of my obsessive research sessions - I doubt he would’ve even remembered sitting next to me.

Our shared field of work helped to bring us back together repeatedly throughout college. I would run into him at seminars, workshops, once even at a library where we were both looking for the same book.

But for the most part, our relationship was parasocial. It largely consisted of me learning from him at a distance. I would use his brilliant research to support my own assignments, read the books he recommended, audit the classes he would teach.

Rather than accurately interpreting my very limited, very professional connection to Dr. Reid, Penelope was deliberately using it as ammunition for her arsenal of reasons why I should consider dating him.

“You guys are basically already friends, and nothing is cuter than the friends-to-lovers trope!” Now that she actually did say, and the only reason I remember it verbatim was it was so outrageous I couldn’t not remember it.

And probably because she just said it to me right now.

“We’re not friends! We’re ... acquaintances. Colleagues, if you will.” My attempts to gain distance from Penelope and this topic of conversation were crashing and burning. The more I tried to walk away from her, the faster she would chase me. It was inconceivable how she managed to do that and continue to pelt me with her perky persistence.

“Even better! You know I’m no stranger to workplace romances.”

That I did. One Derek Morgan or one Luke Alvez ring a bell?

“Dr. Reid and I don’t work together,” I reminded her, if only to burst her bubble of insanity.

“Exactly my point! If you two don’t work together, then there’s nothing keeping you apart.”

I was stopped dead in my tracks, almost causing Penelope to trip since she was right on my heels.

“Nothing? Really? Try 21 years.”

That surely kept us apart.

Our age gap was one of those glaring disparities Penelope couldn’t wave away with her magic wand. Frankly, it wasn’t an age gap so much as it was an age Grand Canyon. He was a whole person of legal drinking age older than me!

Hell - our age gap itself was older than me!

Maybe there weren’t any contracts or agreements or supervisors to keep us apart, but there was still one significant thing doing that.

Time. Arguably the most important thing you needed to get right for a relationship to work.

If there were any chance that he and I were good together, that was squandered by our divergence in age.

Right person, wrong time ... but wrong time by more than two decades.

I could see the smallest fragment of hope wither away in Garcia’s eyes, and it actually hurt to have known that I caused that. Her voice was more solemn when she said, “You don’t have to date him, I just want you to go on a date. Get to know each other better. Who knows? You might finally graduate from colleagues to BFF’s.”

Not that I was seriously considering the possibility of growing closer to Dr. Reid, but there was one question lingering in my mind.

“Does he even want to go on this date? Have you asked him how he feels about it?”

Part of why I was wondering was on the off chance that she’d tell me he had the same objections towards this that I did, which would be good news for me since it would mark my reluctance as a sound judgment. If there was anyone whose opinion was worth something, it was his, right? After all, he was the provable genius in the same compromising position as me.

“Trust me, he’s been dying to do this.” In spite of her preface to trust her, I didn’t. I couldn’t be sure if she was suggesting that he’d been dying to go on a date with me or if he’d been dying to go on a date in general.

No offense to him, but I guessed it was the latter, and if that was the case, he was only being a team player because she hadn’t told him it was me she was setting him up with. Already suspecting that I’d probe further to navigate through her vagueness, she cut in with one last Hail Mary. “One date! That’s all!”

Whether you believe me or not, 100% the only reason why I said what I said next was to put an end to this madness. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Maybe 99.99%.

_ _ _

I never knew how I could lose so much time. Sure, if anyone asked, I could probably account for everything I’d done in my day, second by second. But still, there was this cloudiness, a fog, inhabiting my brain, casting this haze on whatever else dwelled in my mind, too.

I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 4 seconds at a time, and while that wasn’t incredibly concerning for the average human, it was disconcerting for me.

What was going on?

What is going on?

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, a hand began to wave in front of my face. “Yoo-hoo? Anybody in there?” JJ wondered aloud, causing me to realize it was her voice that asked the question from before.

“Yeah, sorry,” I shook my head to regain some clarity, but that did me no good. My foggy brain still remained. It goes without saying my words were worth nothing as well. JJ saw right through me in a way that never failed to scare me shitless. I could never conjure up a lie good enough to follow that look she’d give me. So I settled for the truth. The question that cast the haziness in my brain to begin with.

“What do you think about me dating again?”

If I thought that first look was bad, then the one she was giving me now was something of a nightmare. At least with the first, I knew what she was thinking. With this one, I hadn’t a clue.

To relieve us from some of the insufferable silence, I found myself speaking again in my defense. “Garcia mentioned something earlier about setting me up with someone and it got me thinking.”

Thinking about Max that is.

Being my most recent girlfriend, it made sense why she was freshest in my mind. That being said, we’ve been broken up for 14 months, which in any other context would seem like more than enough time to start dating again, but therein lies the catch.

We didn’t just break up. She said “no” when I asked her to marry me, which, if you ask me, is one hell of a way to break up.

So from that perspective, it obviously begs the question: is 14 months too fast to move on from something like that?

JJ sharply inhaled. “Well, are you ready to start dating again?”

I still didn’t have an answer for that myself. “I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a rulebook on how long you have to wait until it’s socially acceptable-”

“Lemme stop you right there, Spence,” She placed her hand on top of mine. “You can’t just do whatever statistics or studies or science say is right all the time. You not only need to be more in tune with your own needs but accepting of them, too. Screw what anyone else has to say about you dating again - including Socrates, including Einstein, including Aristotle ... including me. Do whatever you think is acceptable by your standards - not society’s. Do what you wanna do and I’ll support that.”

There was something special about having JJ’s approval. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted.

“I’m ready.”

Born ready, as Penelope herself would say.

_ _ _

I was starting to get suspicious that maybe I had an invisible string attached to me and on the other end of that string was Penelope. It was the only explanation as to how she managed to trail behind me at an isochronal pace. Perfectly equidistant, perfectly equal intervals of time. Must’ve been some form of magic that she was able to synchronize that connection for as long as she did as we pranced around the office, basically chasing me.

“Okay, I know the date isn’t until Saturday, but I really think we need to amp up your wardrobe choices ... like stat.”

Hearing that I was seeing my superior still didn’t settle well with me. I don’t think I could ever get used to the thought.

I should’ve been offended at her suggestion to change my clothing taste as it implied my stylistic choices weren’t up to par, but a part of me, a very small part of me, knew she was right. And just because I wasn’t keen on the idea of going on a date with Spencer didn’t mean I didn’t want to look nice for him for it.

“I’m assuming you’ve got some ideas in mind,” I said in a teasing voice, knowing that’s precisely why she brought it up.

“See! You are a genius! Exactly why you and Spencer are meant to be together!” Her exclamation was just as loud as it was outlandish.

“Alright, calm down sparky,” I shot a warning look. “It’s just one date - we’re not soulmates.”

Then, talking in the quietest voice I didn’t think Penelope was capable of speaking with, she said, “Not yet.”

I knew the minute I showed even the littlest bit of interest in Penelope’s fashion guidance, I’d end up draped in ruffles, sequins, glitter, tulle, rhinestones, or all of the above. Nothing again Penelope’s personal style - it’s just not mine.

I was scared to ask, but I had to know. “So what were you thinking?”

Before my very eyes, Penelope’s constantly-there smile transformed, something akin to the mischievous grin of the Cheshire Cat. “I was thinking …”

In a Mary Poppins-esque fashion, Penelope produced a dress that in no feasible reality should have been able to fit within that little Hello Kitty side bag.

I suppose it must’ve been absolutely backbreaking for Penelope to refrain from choosing a multicolor or at least pattern-riddled dress, so as compensation for the fact that it was only one singular color throughout, it had to be a bold one.

Red.

“Not too shabby, right?” Her eyebrows jumped on her forehead, knowing she’d made a good choice.

And a part of me actually died saying this, but it was pretty perfect.

_ _ _

My life didn’t flash before my eyes, per se, the moment I finally arrived at the delicatessen. It was more like a very specific, singular memory had flashed before my eyes.

That story for later? This is the one.

Psych 101 was my best class in Freshman year ... by a long shot. Come rain, wind, or snow, I was always excited to go. It was a standout course on its own, but not because it was terribly spectacular or the most fascinating subject in the world, but more so because of how it changed my own person. It challenged me, like all worthwhile things do.

There were more judgmental meatheads - boys, if you will - than not, who would jump down my throat for being a smart ass or a teacher’s pet if I so much as answered one of Dr. Reid’s questions. Par for the course, really.

As a result, I had a proclivity to avoid raising my hand. It wasn’t that I was hyper-fixated on managing my reputation, just that participating wasn’t worth the eventual harassment from my dimwitted classmates.

Nonetheless, one day, I felt compelled to answer Dr. Reid when he asked what our thoughts were about the sampled, pretense manifesto.

No one else was jumping at the chance to speak, perhaps they were just as cowardly as I was, and it was clear that he was going to stand there waiting until someone finally would. The silence was painfully awkward for everyone and so I felt obligated, as a student who was actually enrolled in the class for credit and not just to audit like 90% of the other girls here, to break it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, my hand hesitantly inched up into the air until it floated just high enough above the student in front of me’s head. As soon as I knew he saw it, I let it plunge straight back down.

“Yes, Ms. (y/l/n)?”

I could already feel the dirty looks and snide comments coming before I even said a word.

“I know we’re all collectively referring to this unsub as a man, and while that might just be a general assumption or Freudian slip perhaps ... I think the language is steeped in betrayal and contempt. And it would be ignorant not to notice how it reads more like the wrath of a woman scorned than your typical jilted male lover.”

“Lover?” Someone two rows back snickered quietly, clearly to mock my choice of words. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Brad who had said that. Nevertheless, Dr. Reid was impressed with my answer. His lips curved into the faintest smile as he nodded his head. If he had heard the commentary of one Brad Sterling, he made no visceral reaction to it.

With an extended hand, palm facing up, he gestured for me to, “Please. Stand up.”

I fumbled my way up and out of my seat to possibly delay the shit I’d get for this mere action.

“That, ladies and gentleman, is what it looks like to have courage,” He underlined his words with a grand flourish of his hand in my direction. “Putting yourself on the line even in the event you’ll be mocked and ridiculed or deemed wrong. That’s something you’ll need if you are seriously considering being part of the BAU, or the FBI at any capacity.”

My face was flushed from the acclaim he was showering me with. Suddenly, I was glad I volunteered.

Taking me completely by surprise, Dr. Reid wasn’t done yet.

“So, Mr. Sterling,” He began, directly calling out the boy in the back who without a doubt made the remark. I wouldn’t have had any reason to believe he heard it since his attention never diverted away from me long enough to catch the comment, much less the culprit. I wonder if he’d heard all the times Brad made jokes at my expense. Was he finally at his wits end with the sarcasm? “Make fun all you want, but might I suggest that if you like a girl, you do the opposite of that.”

His sickly sweet drawl was followed by a short wink at me as if to say ‘I have your back’, and I was lucky to have already been in the process of sitting back down because my knees would’ve given out underneath me from the sheer exhilaration of his praise.

The thought never once crossed my mind that Brad was so fixated on me because he had a crush, but it all made sense once it did. And if I didn’t know any better, Dr. Reid only humiliated him and brought it up because the realization dawned on him, too.

Was it possible that Dr. Reid was ... jealous?

In the spirit of complete transparency, that suspicion may have lit the tiniest wildfire imaginable in my chest. A wildfire that, even now, has yet to extinguish. Perhaps that little flame is the 0.01% of the reason I said yes. I could only imagine what kind of omnipotence it would soon gain if this date went well.

If he could light such an enduring kindle with simple praise, think about what would happen if he smiled at me. If he laughed at my jokes. If he held my hand.

If he kissed me.

Dr. Reid’s validation would be something I actively sought from all walks of life, I knew that much. What I didn’t know was how far that desire would take me.

I would have never guessed it would lead me here.

Standing in front of a fancy restaurant in a pretty red dress with the tenuous hope that the professor inside might just like it so much that he’ll end up liking the girl wearing it, too.

_ _ _

No matter how many times I adjusted the bouquet of poppies, they sat perpetually crooked on the table. Much like the dark gray tie around my neck that tightened around my throat with every passing second. I had to keep messing with it to loosen the noose-like grip it had on me. Who knew if it actually was becoming more restricting or it was the flourishing bundle of nerves in my stomach that made it harder to breathe.

I was never very good at lying in wait patiently. Especially if I was expecting something. Now that I was expecting someone? I could say with perfect clarity - I was not good at waiting.

I don’t wanna seem the way I do

Every time the door opened, my eyes flashed to it instantaneously. And every time it wasn’t her, a little part of me was disappointed. It was still too early to say for certain that she was standing me up, but my mind was doing what it did best. It wandered. There was nothing else to do after all.

Except maybe adjust those blood orange poppies one more time.

I’d picked them out specifically because Penelope slipped in a not-so-subtle comment about her dress being “a perfect match to the color of papaverales” - her words exactly. I thought if she went through that much trouble to find a color coordinated plant and say the scientific name for me to decode, it was worth picking up a bouquet of them on the way.

It was only the most ironic occurrence in the world that when I went to rearrange them one last time, I devoted my full attention to the action, missing the very moment I was on the lookout for the past hour and a half.

I didn’t even see her until the red poppies camouflaged into the identically colored setting of her dress.

Then there she was.

All the disappointment in the world was worth that first time I saw her with fresh eyes.

I was dumbstruck for a moment, long enough that it warranted an apology for not standing up sooner.

“(Y/n)! Hi!” I accidentally squealed. I couldn’t control myself, let alone control the pitch of my voice apparently.

I could see, in her, youthful naivete where, in others, I saw their age. She paradoxically had not aged a minute, and yet a new womanhood was piercing through her ultimately adolescent appearance.

“Hi, Dr. Reid,” She said through a laugh and a smile, shaking my hand politely and professionally. She was greeting me like I was still her professor and she’d just happen to run into me on an errand. Next, she’d be attempting small-talk for as long as it took for me to let her go.

Unfortunately for her, I had no plans for that.

But I’m confident when I’m with you

“Please, it’s just Spencer,” I reminded her, hoping to break down that governing image of me she surely maintained.

“Spencer,” She tried again; doing it more to be obedient to my instruction than to satisfy her own desire. It sounded so unnatural to her, just as it did to me. I found it adorable, actually. It seemed like she was breaking this unspoken, and very much illusionary rule to say my first name. “It’s nice to see you again,” She added after I pulled out her chair for her.

“Is it?” I asked when I rounded the table to get to my seat. “I get the feeling you’re a little disappointed.” The only reason I pointed it out was that it was true, not just that I’d observed the notion grow more poignant in her face for the past minute.

“Not at all,” She shook her head, which luckily for me, drew a line of congruence between her body language and verbal language. At least, she was being truthful. “It’s just that I’m sort of embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” I repeated in astonishment, unable to cultivate a list of reasons that would justify her feeling that way. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to provoke that emotion, and it nearly broke me to consider her internal being substantiating it.

“Embarrassed isn’t the right word, but I can’t find a more accurate one for what I’m feeling,” She shied away from my eyes when she lowered her head as she spoke.

“You could try to explain it to me?” I offered gently. It took an overwhelming amount of self-restraint to not offer my hand with it. It would’ve been so easy to slide my hand across the threshold to enter her territory of the table, but who knows if doing so would just make her that much more uncomfortable.

“Well for one thing, I don't really go on dates,” From this alone, I could already relate to her enough to laugh at the fact. “Don’t laugh at me! You know how dangerous first dates can be,” She swatted her hand in my direction to chastise me.

“I do! I do! I think it’s really good that you’re protecting yourself to the point of avoiding dates,” I was teasing the implication that she wasn’t asked to go on very many, which was thankfully delivered well enough to make her laugh again.

“Hey! Many people have wanted to go on dates with me, thank you very much. You included.”

“Me included.” I nodded in approval. We sat in a short period of silence while we exchanged one soulful glance, borne from the insinuation of what I just said.

“And for another ... I respect you too much as a figure of authority to see you in that way.”

_ _ _

“In what way?”

Rather than tossing me a lifeline, he was feeding me to the sharks. Forcing me to dive into the deep end. He wanted to see me struggle to stay afloat in the sea of his sticky toffee eyes. He knew I'd get suspended in them when he gave me that look. How much I’d be willing to get lost in them just so I could wander in the depths of his honeyed orbs for a little bit longer.

That look ...

“You don’t find it weird?” This was the most honesty I could’ve demonstrated.

“Find what weird?” For someone with such a high IQ, you’d think he’d be quicker on his feet.

“This! You - me. On a date!” I gestured to the space between us. “You’re ... well frankly, Spencer, you’re old enough to be my father.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He genuinely cared about the answer.

“Only in theory. Not in actual life,” was the most precise response I could give.

“So what is making you uncomfortable?” Again, I could tell my answer mattered to him.

“You were my professor once, and now I’m just supposed to go on a date with you and see you as my equal when I’ve spent the entire time I’ve known you, putting you on a pedestal? Do you know how much pressure that puts on me? To be perfect?”

“Who says you have to be perfect? Who says you’re aren’t already?”

That one caught me off guard. I had to gulp down the lump of shock.

“You think I’m perfect?”

“That, or you’re pretty close to it.”

Lately all I feel is bad and bruised

I could’ve smiled, I could’ve thanked him, I could’ve fallen at his feet and thrown my dignity down there along with it, but I just laughed. I laughed.

“That’s ridiculous! You barely know me.”

“You’re wrong,” He simply replied with a firm shake of his head and a cavalier sip at his drink. It showed just how confident he was in his answer. How cocky he was.

“How am I wrong?”

He cleared his throat as though he were preparing to deliver the world’s greatest speech. Then, he leaned forward, motioning with his fingers for me to do the same.

“If I’m remembering correctly, which you know I am, you were the student who had the gall to raise your hand and correct me on my gender identification of the unsub, right?”

The second the sentimental thought, ‘aww he remembered’, came into my head, it was soon followed by, of course, he did, idiot. Eidetic memory, remember?

Tired of tripping on my shoes

“What does that have to do with me being perfect? Or so you claim?”

He was piercing deep into my eyes now, his gaze overwhelming my senses and sending shockwaves akin to the feeling of butterflies everywhere … and I mean everywhere.

“Bravery is the audacity to be unhindered by failures, and to walk with freedom, strength, and hope, in the face of things unknown.”

I recognized the quote as one of Morgan Harper Nichols, but the words went right to my chest like they were his own.

That damn wildfire just got a whole lot bigger.

“I’ve always thought about how if I could be unfazed by failure or even just the prospect of it, if I could just be strong enough or have enough hope to face what I couldn’t predict, I’d be set. I’d be golden,” He paused. “I’d be perfect ... but you? You, little one, have already got that figured out. So whether that means you’re perfect on your own because of your bravery or you're a perfect match for someone fainthearted like me, is up for you to decide. Whichever interpretation of being perfect you choose would be correct, but you should know - I meant both either way.”

But when he loves me I feel like I’m floating

When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody

Even when we fade eventually to nothing

You will always be my favorite form of loving

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked when he finally refound his voice.

“Since the minute I walked in.” I replied after refinding mine.

_ _ _

“You always take girls to your apartment on the first date, Doctor?” Asking this in the name of taking a jab at him was the most clever way I could think to conceal my underlying motive of trying to gauge how giddy I could let myself feel about the fact that he’d taken me to his ‘super chic dark academia’ themed residence - Penelope’s words, remember?

“Well, in my abundant dating history,” He sarcastically began, “I can’t say I ever have, no. You’d be the first.”

That shot another quick bolt of lightning to the wildfire in my heart that I’m ashamed to admit made the heat reinvigorate. The flame must’ve been too much for my chest to contain so it had to relocate to my face, where my cheeks were left to burn under his gaze and thanks to his admission.

I was the first.

He must’ve seen the glint localizing on my countenance and decided to speak on it. “Why does that amuse you?”

“I don’t know,” I dumbly but truthfully replied. He didn’t need any more information to get his answer, though. Because even if I didn’t know what amused me about being his first, I never denied that it did, and that was more than enough confirmation for him.

“You promise to be here when I come back?” He wagged a cautionary finger at me like it might persuade me to stay and hold me accountable if I didn’t.

Spencer needed to go into his room to collect an item that ‘shall not be named’ but was apparently essential for our super secret plans tonight (secret to even me) and he was leaving me in the living room while he did so. I guess being the initial girl he took home on a first date was okay, but being the initial girl he took into his bedroom on a first date was crossing a line.

That was alright with me, though. I was in this for the long haul.

“I promise I pose no flight risk, Your Honor,” I taunted with a coy tone. “But I can’t promise I won’t snoop around some.” Hey, at least I was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

“Snoop around all you want,” He laughed ruefully, demonstrating an openness I quite envied and admired. “You’ll probably learn a lot about me that way. And you won’t even have to talk to me to do that!” I knew he was only saying that out of self-deprecating tendencies he harbored, but I couldn’t help feeling that a small part of him actually believed that I wasn’t interested in talking to him.

“Spencer, you know I do like talking to you right?” I caught him just before he ran into his room. Already halfway in the door, I could still catch the megawatt smile on his face.

“So stay then,” His smile grew impossibly bigger. “We can talk all you want when I get back.”

The door closed, and then suddenly reopened to let just his face through, a face that said, ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

After a few minutes of loudly sorting through his room, I heard the sanctimonious cry of victory. “Found it!”

I could hear the little pad of his feet and he happily trotted out of the room. “Ta-da! My stargazing kit.” He said it as though he were introducing the basket he was holding to me, and me to it. Like it was a real person he wanted me to know. I almost felt obliged to say, ‘Hi stargazing kit! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m (y/n)!’

“Let’s go,” He smiled, reaching for my hand.

I unabashedly took it, because although it meant that I was truly leaving his apartment, I had a very strong feeling that I would be back here again one day.

_ _ _

We were lying there on this big quilted comforter that was stashed away in that stargazing kit of his, staring up at the sky, drunk on the sound of our occasional fits of laughter.

“It’s Earth Day, you know that?” I wondered aloud in a state of complete euphoria.

“I actually did,” He said through a sheepish laugh, almost as if he was admitting the knowledge of it against his own will to protect my fragility.

From out of nowhere, there was a small tug on the skirt of my dress. I looked down to find Spencer’s hand there, playing with the fabric until it lay perfectly on my leg.

I coughed to possibly relieve the tension brewing in my loins. “So then you know the Lyrid meteor shower is tonight,” I moved the tiniest bit closer to lean into his touch.

“At exactly 4:33 a.m,” He moved too.

“Is that why you brought me here? To watch the shooting stars? To make a wish?” I thought for a second that I would appear exceedingly childish - more so than I already did being 21 years his junior. But he didn’t judge me at all for the kid-like notion of making a wish on a shooting star or the implication that I still believed in those things.

In fact, I piqued his curiosity, telling by the way he moved only his head to the side to watch my reaction. “Say I did. What would you wish for?”

In the throws of dreamy elation, I softly murmured the only honest answer. “To be older. But not the unfulfilling 9 to 5, loveless marriage, ‘I do my taxes for fun’ older. I want to be old in the ways that the stars and the sky are old. I want to be infinite.”

“...To be infinite.” He whispered my wish back, sounding sort of in awe of me.

Just then, the overhead horizon grew larger. With no buildings or people to block the view, it was just us, the stars, and the sky. I could actually feel that I was lying on a planet. It was so wide. So infinite.

“Can I hold your hand?” I asked softly, in a manner so vulnerable it scared me.

Without any words or hesitation, he put my hand in his.

“The universe seems so big right now. I just needed something to hold onto.” I explained quietly, practically with the hopes that he wouldn’t hear me. But he heard.

“I’m here.”

We didn’t know what was ahead of us then. We were just two people, looking up at the sky on a cold February night. We weren’t divided by power, or age, or space. We were ourselves and no one else.

My eyes fluttered shut again and a smile stretched across my face. “Stargazing was a good idea.”

The world and the sky and the stars and I - we were all infinite. I couldn’t have felt bigger in my own body. In the best way possible, I was taking up so much space. I was occupying the earth. I was made up of matter. I mattered.

Just as I began to open my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a fading shooting star. Though I had wished to be older, I still felt like a child. Then it hit me. I didn’t feel older because I wasn’t older.

I was infinite.

Yes, I was a child, but not in the pinch your cheeks, bottles and pacifiers, babyish way. I was a child in the ‘you have a life full of possibilities ahead of you’ way.

You are young. He tells me with his eyes. And that is a good thing. Be forever young.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

If you’re on this taglist, I strongly suggest commenting, reblogging, or liking!

CLICK HERE TO JOIN A TAGLIST

complete taglist: @muffin-cup @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person @masumiyetimziyanoldu @dreamer-writer-fangirl @kalamitykait @jinxy175 @apolloroid @spenxerslut @you-sunshine

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #juniorgman187 #be forever young

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bakugoukatsuki-rising · 4 years

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Deku vs Kacchan 2

So a new friend of mine I made on tiktok wanted a meta on Deku v Kacchan 2, and of course I obliged because I never get tired of analyzing their relationship.

Deku v Kacchan 2 was the starting point to a shift in their relationship, because this was when Bakugou came face to face with his inferiority complex, and all of the emotions he had been holding on to came bubbling to the surface, and I would like to preface by saying Deku is the ONLY PERSON Bakugou has EVER shown his weaknesses to without question.

We don’t ever see him cry or vent to anyone else. Not a single person. He is completely open only in front of Deku.

The first example of this is actually in the start of the manga, when Deku means to tell him about One for All out of fear Bakugou would misunderstand him, and Bakugou makes his first step in becoming better by admitting he recognizes he isn’t as strong as he always thought and that Deku beat him. This is also the first time we see Bakugou cry out of frustration, which is a side of him he only ever shows to Deku.

For reference, this is Chapter 11.

My boy is just wanting to be the best, ya know? All his life he’s been boosted up for having such a strong quirk, and for always being the best at stuff, and now suddenly he just...isn’t. That would mess with anyone’s head, honestly. But the one he spills those feelings to, it’s Deku. Not any other person, just Deku. You think if he hated Deku at this point, he would open up about such vulnerable feelings to him?

I don’t think so.

Then we have the second time he’s vulnerable and recognizing different things about himself and Deku during their fight with All Might, and it is another instance we see him crying. Yes, All Might was there, but those emotions were a direct result of Deku’s words to him about not giving up.

For reference, these are chapters 62 & 63.

Look at the raw emotion Deku is able to draw out of this kid. You will never be able to convince me he EVER hated Deku. Yes, even when he bullied him in middle school and told him to kill himself, I don’t believe Bakugou hated him. I believe that he misunderstood him and it scared him, and so he lashed out in anger since that was the only real form of emotion he knew how to properly convey. Was it right? Obviously not, but at least we are able to understand more of his thought process at that time.

So from here, we get into the end of All Might and Deku vs. Kacchan 2.

From the very start of everything, once Deku was given One for All, Bakugou has been spiraling. He had been struggling and fighting with himself, trying to come to terms with the fact that reality proves he isn’t the strongest or greatest and there is actually a shit ton he’s lacking, so he needs to change to be better. That’s a little difficult though when the person who is a constant reminder of your weaknesses is always around you.

Then he comes to the conclusion that Deku was given All Might’s power, and that is kind of like an epiphany to him. I think, when Bakugou realized All Might gave Deku OfA, he really came to understand the parts of Deku he hadn’t before. The parts that made him the perfect individual for that power, even if he acted like he didn’t know and said some shit like “I’m weak, too!” when All Might broke up their fight, he doesn’t want OfA. He wants acknowledgment. Because to him, All Might giving OfA to Deku was like saying that he is the strongest, and he deserves that power.

When in reality it’s the opposite. Deku had nothing, he was weak and powerless, and yet immediately willing to protect those around him even if it meant losing his own life, and that’s the true make of a hero. Bakugou recognized that, I believe at least, during Deku vs Kacchan 2.

For reference, these are from chapters 117 & 118

So he’s venting, obviously. This is his opening to the big bit that we’ll be getting to shortly, but this is important but he’s opening himself up to Deku. I’ll say it again,

DEKU IS THE ONLY PERSON BAKUGOU HAS EVER OPENED UP TO EMOTIONALLY

This always gets me because Bakugou knows. I made a whole separate meta about him recognizing those attributes of Deku’s and recognizing that’s what makes him so powerful in his own right.

Bakugou completely understands by this point what it is that made All Might choose Deku. He witnessed time and time again how willing Deku was to throw everything away for other people, how his desire to save came before absolutely anything else. He understands that. This is just his denial, and his pride wanting proof.

Now we’re coming to the big bits, the meat of this entire fight.

I wanted to talk in between them but honestly, they should speak for themselves.

“This battle might have been pointless. Win or lose..maybe it didn’t really matter. But at that moment, I knew I had to fight. Because the only person who understood what Kacchan was feeling, was me.”

Now we have Deku recognizing what this is all about, that Bakugou is opening himself up to him and exposing those weaknesses he’s been struggling with for so long. Guilt, fear, anger, sadness. Bakugou has been holding onto so many things and had nowhere for it to come out until this fight. Remember, right after Kamino and All Might’s end, they went straight back to every day life. Bakugou was forced to train as normal and even take the provisional licensing exam before he was able to get a moment to process everything.

Now that he had time for it, he decided to come out with his feelings, and obviously they needed to be expressed to Deku. He does this because he knows Deku is going to accept them. If he’s learned anything from his time being a little shit, it was that Deku wasn’t going anywhere, and he would listen to him whether he was screaming in anger or crying in pain. Because Deku was raised to show emotion, he cried and it was okay and he wasn’t shamed or told he was weak. He wasn’t held to some imaginary scale of strength because he...never really had any, not the way strength is perceived in this universe, at least.

But Bakugou did have strength, and so it was pushed onto him since his quirk developed, which led to his horrible combination of an inferiority complex and a superiority complex. It skewed the way he saw the people around him, and he couldn’t understand that someone could have strength even if they lacked a quirk or a way to fight. Deku had strength Bakugou didn’t, the strength to protect and care and love without restraint. It terrified Bakugou, and so he tried to push Deku away because of it.

But Deku vs. Kacchan 2 put a ton of stuff in perspective for Bakugou.

For reference this is from chapter 120.

This scene is so beautiful to me. The way it’s implied they make eye contact. The emotion in this scene alone is so powerful, and should immediately tell you their relationship will never be the same; and it wasn’t.

I feel like a lot of people don’t see a difference because Bakugou is still hot-headed and foul-mouthed, but he is in no way the same kid from before this chapter. Not to Deku, and not to anyone else. Being able to express himself and get all of that frustration out from what built up over almost a years time, it allowed him to begin truly changing himself into a better person. This was his starting point to recognizing that he can’t continue just fighting on his own, and he would eventually have to depend on other’s if he wants to be the best. He would have to open himself up.

It’s gradual, and subtle, but it’s there. There are instances of it everywhere. From him joining in on OfA’s meetings, to the ways he encourages Deku to keep getting stronger by pushing him, to the JT when he acts with his team to win, all the way to the current chapters.

Don’t get it twisted though, Bakugou’s development for himself started way before DvK2, but DvK2 is when the real development between Bakugou and Deku started, and these beautiful chapters led us all the way to 284 and 285, which was the most definitive show of development and growth I have ever seen a character make.

#bnha #mha #bnha meta #bnha analysis #bkdk #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #deku #kacchan #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha manga #mha manga #deku vs kacchan 2 #dvk2 #bakudeku

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princessofcurses · 3 years

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[1] Take it.

Part 2 Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader Written from the perspective of Sukuna My first post! I wonder if anyone will read it? It's kind of long. The sexy stuff starts happening about halfway through. This is just one chapter so some things might not make sense. Let me know if you liked it and want more! Preface: A woman sorcerer challenged Sukuna. Her technique was able to nullify his, ending in a draw between the two. Frustrated at his inability to kill her, he decides to “take her” in “another way”. The cocky brat rejects him easily but he’s determined to win her over little by little when she visits him the next day.

She left quickly after our battle. I wanted to chase after her. She hadn’t even told me her name but the way she mocked me riled my soul up. A fire began to burn in my core and soon, I felt it in all of my blood. I was almost unsure if I wanted to kill her or fuck her. I hadn’t met a Jujutsu sorcerer as strong as her before, strong enough to go toe-to-toe with me. And strong enough to resist me. I couldn’t kill her so right now, I wanted nothing more than to fuck her. I can win in other ways. I wanted to earn her affection and make her mine. With her by my side, nothing would be able to stop me.

The next day, she came back to me. I was delighted.

“You thought about it, didn’t you? Did you rethink your stance?”

She replied to me with disgust.

“I’m here to waste your time and keep you from killing.”

I scoffed.

How can I win her over? After my ‘sex with hundreds of women’ comment last time, she obviously wants nothing to do with me. I can’t force her into submission because she neutralizes my techniques and she can use it against me. Should I buy her affection? Maybe gifts would do.

She noticed I was in thought and she used the pause to take a seat at the base of the mountain of skulls. She pulled out a book and began to read. She was bored with me again. She is so fucking infuriating. I wanted so badly to kill her but I couldn’t. So I thought I wanted so badly to ruin her and make her feel so good she submits to me. But she pretended I didn’t exist.

I jumped down from my throne to be closer to her.

“What’s your name?”

Without looking up from her book, she said just her first name.

“Akahime.”

“Oh? So you’re one of the heavenly twins. The red princess.”

“Mhm.”

Her one word replies irritated me. Women have died just getting too close to me and now there was one who not only rejected me but could stop me too. My usual approach wasn’t working so I tried being more direct.

“I want to talk to you.”

She immediately responded.

“I told you I’m not interested.”

“Please.”

She closed her book with both hands and put it down. I felt pitiful almost begging her just to speak with her.

“You’re annoying.”

I winced at her comment.

“What if we talked over dinner?”

“We wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without you being noticed. Plus, you might just try to kill everyone.”

“Then I’ll have one of my servants bring us something. You didn’t bring food, right? You’ll get hungry eventually.”

She put her index finger on her chin and looked up. She had a cute thinking face. If I could hear her thoughts, she probably cursed in her head that she forgot to bring something to eat.

“Okay, fine. I want an omakase from the most expensive sushi restaurant in Japan. I also want a bottle of sake. It better be warm too.”

This little brat. She’s a foot shorter than me but she treats me as if I’m the small one. I sighed in exasperation and I snapped my fingers for a servant to quickly appear. Akahime wondered where they came from.

“You heard her. Fetch. Quickly.”

They scurried out of the lair. I went to take a seat beside her. She looked uncomfortable and moved farther from me once I sat down. I sighed.

“I won’t bite. I just want to talk.”

She turned to me and smiled.

“Let’s talk over dinner!”

Ugh. She’s really cute, even when she’s nicely rejecting me. I was losing my composure. I was so frustrated that she wasn’t giving a single thing. I wanted to get on top of her and show her just why women come to me. But she might just leave altogether.

“Okay, looking forward to it then.”

I made my way back to my throne. I leaned my elbow against the armrest and held my head up with my hand. I wondered, what could I say to make her trust me? It felt like an eternity had passed once the food arrived. The servant laid all of the sushi out. Akahime and I sat on the floor. I poured her some sake and she took the small cup with a smile.

“Thank you, Sukuna!”

She could look so sweet. I was taken aback from it, considering how cocky she had been the entire time. She must really love this restaurant.

“Itadakimasu!”

We clapped our hands and she immediately went for a piece of salmon.

“I love this place! Oh, you ordered the omakase too? Wow, so you have money?”

Her personality completely changed.

“I’ve eaten at this place a couple of times. I like their omakase too. And yes, I have money.”

Maybe gifts were the way to go. I quickly wrote down some items for my servant to get.

She picked up a piece of toro and presented it to me with her other hand.

“This is my favorite.”

She plopped it into her mouth and she closed her eyes and smiled.

“Mmm!”

The way to her heart is through her stomach, I guess. We continued our dinner and I kept refilling her cup. She drank happily, finishing it quickly each time. Blush started to form across her cheeks and nose. We had just finished eating too.

She sighed.

“Ah. I feel like I ate too much.”

Her words slurred a bit and she put her head down on the table.

“I’m going to fall asleep right here.”

I helped her keep her head up.

“No, don’t do that. I got you something.”

My servant entered and set down a futon for her.

“I got you a futon to sleep on. It’s stuffed with goose feathers.”

She looked at me and then the futon with amazement.

“Wow! I have to lay on it right now!”

She finished the rest of the sake in the bottle and crawled over to the futon. I had the perfect view of her ass and I could see the outline of her panties. A chill went through me.

She laid out on the futon and cuddled the pillow, which was stuffed with goose feathers as well.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s really comfortable.”

Her smile was so charming and the way she looked up at me with sparkles in her eyes made me want to have her right at this moment.

“I got you something else.”

My servant handed her a white and flowy off-the-shoulder nightgown. She sat up and took it from the servant, who left quickly.

“I’m going to wear it now. Close your eyes.”

I covered my eyes but couldn’t help but peep through the cracks. She had stripped down to her panties and I could see her perky breasts and perfect ass. She clumsily slipped on the dress.

“Okay. I’m done changing.”

I uncovered my eyes and saw her unobstructed in the dress. She looked so dainty and was being so sweet. Was this the same girl I fought with? The same girl that I lost to? I examined her, thinking that she looked so innocent. I hungered for her. The off-the-shoulder part made her look even more enticing. I have good taste.

“It looks good on you.”

“Did you pick this out? I like it.”

“I did.”

We made eye contact for a few seconds and then she abruptly turned her back to me. She sat back down on the futon, swaying a bit from side to side. I thought for a second. Could this be my chance to close in? I didn’t want to respond. I might anger her and she’d tell me to leave her alone. I took a seat close to her instead.

“Did you enjoy the dinner?”

She was all smiles, not a hint of maliciousness or cockiness she had shown me before. My heart ached a little because of it.

“It was delicious and the sake is great! I feel good right now. Thank you, Sukuna.”

She said my name again and a chill ran down my spine. I wanted to make some contact with her. Just my index finger to her face or putting my hand over hers. I fucking hated this. I was doing so much to make her comfortable just so she wouldn’t push me away. Never in my life have I ever had to work for a woman’s affection. It pissed me off to no end. Why couldn’t I just have her already? The dress on her was making me lose my shit. The soft outline of her breasts in it. I didn’t want to take my eyes off of her. I just wanted to devour her.

She gave me a look of disapproval and then put her hands in my face to obstruct my view.

“Stop staring at me like that! I’m not a meal.”

Her hands were so small. I wanted to hold them in mine but instead, I grabbed her wrist. She had a surprised look which slowly sank to annoyance.

“Did you want something?”

Since she didn’t try to break free from my grasp, I kept holding her wrist up. I thought of the right words to say. What could I even say?

“I want you.”

She gently took back her wrist.

“I can’t help you.”

I brushed the hair in her face behind her ear.

“Why?”

A look of innocence took over her facial expression and the blush from the alcohol reddened even more from the blush of her reservations.

“I'm no stranger to foreplay but I want my first time to be with someone who’s also never fucked before.”

The way the crude word escaped her lips while she looked like an angel turned something on in me. I started to get erect and I wanted to let myself lose control. I don’t care what she does to me. I just want to touch her once.

“I have a lot of experience. I’ll figure out how to please you quickly.”

Her look had a hint of sadness.

“I won’t compromise on this.”

God damn it. Why did I have to be such a whore? I can’t even remember anyone I’ve had sex with.

“Can I just touch you then?”

I braced myself for rejection. Her head tilted to the side. I wonder if she was actually thinking about it.

“Sure.”

I was shocked. I wanted to jump her right then and there but I had to control myself. I was being given a little and I was more than happy to take what I could get. She let me choose what position I would touch her in. I had her lay back on my arm and I cradled her like a baby. My hand just touching her soft skin and shoulders made me want to shudder but I needed to keep my cool in front of her. I raised my hand slowly to caress her face. We made eye contact and her glossy stare at me made me want to see what other faces she could make.

Holding her face in my hand, I tilted it and leaned in to kiss her. She didn’t protest. It looked like she was going to keep her eyes open during it, so I kept mine open as well. Our lips met and it felt like the air was knocked out of me. Her lips were so soft and I tasted a bit of her. She’s so sweet. I looked up to ask her.

“How was that?”

“That was nice.”

I kissed her again, taking the pace slow. I put my hand on her back and gradually moved it down. I stopped at her ass to grab it lightly and I think I felt my cock twitch just now. As we shared another kiss, this time I lightly put my tongue in her mouth and brushed against hers. She stayed still at first but then she kissed me back, just the way her tongue moved said to me that she knows what she’s doing. My thoughts corrupted as I thought about my cock in her mouth. I imagined her tongue twirling around my head. I began to drool. Some of it spilled down her chin.

She pushed me up. I gasped a bit being separated from her lips.

“Ugh. You’re getting your drool everywhere.”

“Sorry.”

I wiped it off of my chin and hers. I then leaned back down to press my lips against hers again. I couldn’t get enough of her. She tasted so sweet. I grabbed and squeezed one of her breasts and then I pinched her nipple and rubbed it between my index finger and thumb. She gasped. She was so responsive to my touch. I moved my hand under her dress to play with her exposed nipple and she let out a soft moan. I stopped kissing her to see the look on her face. Her eyes stared back at me with a lusty gaze. I needed more of her right now.

I sat her in front of me with her legs draping over mine. My hand found its way between her thighs. It was so warm and when I rubbed her pussy through her underwear, I felt the wet fabric. I shivered. I kept thinking that I needed to be inside her right now. I swiftly slipped her panties off and lightly teased her opening, coating my fingers in her arousal. She was so wet and it was driving me fucking crazy. I moved up to her clit and began to rub it slowly. Her eyes widened and she let out a sultry moan. Fuck. That’s sexy.

I quickened the pace, making sure to rub every little spot on her clit. Her moans were more frequent and her breathing was heavier. It became hard for her to focus. I pressed the issue by leaning into her and kissing the nape of her neck. She was so warm and aroused. I loved seeing how submissive she became once I started pleasing her. She had little to no protests.

I moved my middle finger down to slowly slide inside of her. She yelped softly and it took everything I had not to take her right now. I wanted to bury my cock deep inside of her but you know she would never let you. I was a bit eager so I put my ring finger into her as well. Her walls were warm and soft and she was already so tight on my fingers. I was about to beg her for her pussy right now. Instead, I started fingering her at a leisurely pace. She clenched around my fingers and I felt her moan down my spine. I whispered in her ear.

“How does that feel?”

I faced her. She looked like she was in a daze. She was struggling to speak. I smirked. I had her exactly where I wanted her.

“What happened, brat? Nothing to say now?”

She tilted her head to look at me with scrutiny and I knew it wasn’t time for that yet.

“I didn’t mean that.”

We continued on and I used my other hand to rub her clit. Her moans were so loud and they provoked me. I pressed in different areas of her pussy looking for the perfect spot. Each time I had touched a new place, she moaned even louder. She was so sensitive and it excited me to no end.

We were face-to-face.

“Look at me.”

She tried to focus but she was too lost in the pleasure I was giving her.

I took my fingers out of her to snap them. We then made eye contact.

“Look. At. Me.”

She nodded and I put my fingers back in her. I was just about there. I pressed on that spot, what do they call it nowadays? I don’t know. Well, it’s the spot that evokes orgasms. I pinned the spot and her eyes widened.

“Sukuna…”

“What is it, princess?”

She gasped and she whined out.

“You’re so good.”

My heart stopped for a moment from her sweet comment. Fuck. What is she fucking doing to me?

I fingered the spot harder and rubbed her clit faster. The way her pussy sucked on my fingers alerted me that she was close. I had to see the look on her face once she cums. Then I would have won one of our little battles. I varied my movement to keep her engaged. I would switch from rubbing her clit up and down to rubbing it in circles. Then I would alternate from softly fingering that sensitive spot to playing with it roughly. The air was drowned in her moans and it was so satisfying to finally get her in my hands. This was the grand finale for her.

We made intense eye contact with each other. She was in ecstasy but she also looked a bit scared. She knew what was about to happen too. I wanted to establish a little bit of dominance right here.

“Say you’re sorry.”

“Huh?”

She didn’t hear me, she was too lost in the feeling.

“Say you’re sorry for being a brat.”

Her head perked up and she was a little confused. She looked a bit nervous and she seemed choked up. I touched her slowly and I gently smiled at her. She was struggling to speak.

“Or do you want me to stop?”

With a worried look on her face, she shook her head.

“Then say it.”

I gave her a cold and stern stare, and tears began to form in her eyes. I picked up the pace in my rhythm again, rubbing her clit agonizingly and fingering her pussy. I wanted to let her know this was just a preview of what I could do to her. I held her right there. I’d push her over the edge as soon as she says it.

“I’m… I’m…”

She stuttered but she was about to spit it out right now. Half a second before her orgasm hits, she bursts into tears and cried out loudly.

“I’M SORRY!”

She wails as her orgasm consumes her. I pulled her close to me and embraced her while she came. It started in her pussy and traveled in waves to the tips of her fingers and toes. She was shaking. She tried to catch her breath and I felt so fucking satisfied. I held her while she cried and whimpered. It must have been overwhelming for her.

I took a hold of her chin and tilted her head to give her a kiss on the lips.

“How was that? Has anyone ever touched you like that?”

She looked down, shy and embarrassed.

“Not like that...”

I gave her another kiss. Her eyes were still teary and I wiped the moisture from her cheeks. I wanted to take it further so badly but she looked exhausted.

“Are you going to bed now?”

I hoped she wouldn’t but she laid out on the futon.

“I think so.”

She yawned and squeezed one of the pillows tightly in her arms. I pet her head once then got up.

“Good night then.”

I walked away wondering if I should contact one of my concubines. I was dying for Aka’s touch but I wouldn’t get it and I desperately needed release. If she found out though, I might ruin the little bit she was giving me. Do I really have to jerk off tonight? Me? The King of Curses?

“Sukuna.”

She sat upright and her head was perked up, watching me leave. I turned to her in surprise.

“Yes?”

She wanted to say something but she was struggling. She looked a bit frustrated but then she shook her head.

“Good night.”

Drive a fucking stake through my heart why don’t you? I walked to my bedroom and laid out on my futon. My erection was poking through my kimono, trying to free itself. I rubbed my erection through my underwear and kimono and I thought of how soft her lips were. I let the garment drop to the floor and slipped my underwear off. I grabbed my cock and groaned, stroking it up and down. I closed my eyes and imagined her crawling over to me in her dainty dress. How she would look up at me with her hungry eyes. The face she would make as she slowly sits on my cock for the first time.

I stroked myself faster, focusing on the head for a bit and then going down the entire shaft. My breathing was heavier and I got closer and closer. I started to think that maybe I should have asked her for a hand or blow job. I knew releasing myself would leave me nowhere near being satisfied. I felt pathetic. I felt like I was stooping so low for some brat but just picturing her smiling at me steeled my resolve. In my thoughts, she asks me to cum inside of her. I think of coating her insides with it, her virgin pussy being filled up for the first time. I groan loudly and blow my load all over my thighs. I then picture her thanking me for fucking her and I breathe deeply, trying to catch my breath. My cock was still upright and unrelenting, aching for more. I knew this wouldn’t be enough. I sighed and went to clean myself up.

MIGRATING TO A NEW BLOG @baji-san

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

“sorry to bother you”

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

AKA Harry meets a fan and accidentally steals her phone

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello,” he says simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do they look?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Photos?”

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

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

Her mother stops with her, “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe Harry Styles has it?”

“Mom, don’t be dumb.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“This isn’t my phone.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

“Who’s phone are you calling from?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re something else, missy.”

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

“See you at one.” He says finally.

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

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

“Thought you would’ve by now.”

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry! I was..distracted.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you ever miss that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s really so beautiful here.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just answer the questions.”

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

“Okay.” She softens.

“That’s it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want your phone or not?”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry fic #harry fic rec #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot

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caffeinatedseri · 3 years

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Dazai and No Longer Human’s Yozo

It’s no secret that BSD’s Dazai draws heavily from his real life counterpart, especially from his semi-autobiographical work: No Longer Human. To preface, No Longer Human is written from the perspective of the main character Yozo, with the book itself being a documentation of Yozo’s notebooks (essentially his journals) throughout his life.

As you progress through the novel, it becomes increasingly clear that Yozo lives an extremely two-sided life; his foolish personality acts as a facade to others in attempts to hide the darker nature within him.

Dazai shares that obvious similarity with Yozo, but Dazai is characterized in a somewhat vague and mysterious way that leaves a lot of his inner thoughts up to interpretation and inferences. Thus, I’ll be going through some of my favorite quotes from No Longer Human and analyzing Dazai’s character through his similarities to Yozo.

(For the sake of readability, excerpts from No Longer Human will be in pictures, and quotes from the light novel will be in regular block quotes).

Dazai and Yozo’s Participation in Clownery

To start off, Dazai noticeably participates in the same “clowning” as Yozo, which in particular stands out with PM Dazai.

““How did your leg get hurt?” I pointed to the bandages, thinking that it must be the result of some violent fight. “I was reading a book titled ‘How to Prevent Accidental Injuries’ while walking when I accidentally fell into a ditch.” I wasn’t expecting such an abnormal response.” — LN 2, Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era (Oda’s POV)

This is pretty standard Dazai behavior, but the interesting part is how Yozo specifically used the word “deceiving.” If we were to assume Yozo’s true thoughts are Dazai’s as well, then it would imply that Dazai feels as if he’s manipulating people with his absurd claims (such as the above). However, in actuality, his clownish behaviors sound more like a joke, or some type of self-deflection, rather than an attempt to manipulate people. (Yozo also states that he would often incriminate himself by overexaggerating certain things, but I don’t think Dazai does that).

The second statement Yozo makes implies that he doesn’t care about ethics, morality, or the supposed “right way” of living life that’s described as “righteousness.”

Yozo’s statement on “righteousness” parallels Dazai’s in Dark Era, but Dazai’s statement carries a slightly different sentiment. Rather than being indifferent to the likes of morality, Dazai says that he’s “hated” by the concept of morality.

I’ll be speculating a bit here → It’s heavily implied that Dazai had some sort of dark past that led him to joining the mafia, since he was already suicidal prior to doing so. This suggests that something affected his life so drastically to the point where he could no longer trust in such things as “righteousness,” because righteousness has wronged him in the past.

First, Yozo expresses his fear of people discovering his true nature under the mask of clownery, which would then lead to them pestering him for further inquiry. However, his real fear is that people would mistake his true nature as another part of his typical clownery.

More so than before, this attitude reminds me more of Dazai in the agency, rather than him in the mafia. Even though Dazai danced around darker topics in his conversations with Oda, he was still able to talk about them without much conflict. However, in the agency, Dazai doesn’t talk much about himself or any of his personal issues at all.

Although this scene has comedic overtones, it’s interesting to see that no one would help Dazai if he was actually dying. Still, it could be argued that the other agency members knew it was just Dazai’s regular antics. (or that Dazai wouldn’t die in the first place).

This scenario repeats itself another time when Dazai gets kidnapped by the mafia, and the other agency members kind of just brush it aside. As much as they may trust Dazai to take care of himself (which I’m sure he can do), it’s worrying that the other members may not be open to Dazai’s possible attempts at reaching out for help, if he were ever to make one.

In LN 4, 55 Minutes, Atsushi addresses this issue by asking Dazai why he wants to kill himself, but the answer is left open-ended, with Atsushi himself not remembering the answer (or if Dazai even did answer). You could interpret Dazai’s change from his time in the PM as an improvement of his mental state — which I have no doubt that has happened — but Dazai needs to face his issues head-on if he truly wanted to reconcile with his past.

“Perhaps someone should persistently tie Dazai up, open the lid over his chest and stuff the head of a vacuum cleaner in. They have to let Dazai, who should be screaming in pain and resisting, settle down. Following which, the difficult things in his heart must all be dragged out under the sun and stepped on mercilessly.“ — LN 2, Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era

Oda, the man who understood Dazai more than anyone else could at the time, even specifically stated that the pain in Dazai’s heart must be forcefully dragged out, because he knew that this would ultimately be the most beneficial for Dazai’s sanity.

Throughout No Longer Human, Yozo is often misunderstood by others, or other people simply don’t care about him.

When Dazai goes to visit Oda’s grave in Dead Apple, Atsushi finds him and assumes that he’s visiting the grave of someone important to him, as an act of respect or remembrance, something of the sort. However, Dazai makes the automatic assumption that his “clownish words of deceit” (as stated by Yozo) will always be prioritized over the truth, which is why he chooses to brush off his actions as a joke.

Although I made the point earlier that the agency members don’t give Dazai opportunities to open up about himself, Atsushi is notably different, similarly to Oda, because he’s able to take Dazai seriously and persist even through his antics.

Atsushi takes Dazai’s act of visiting a grave seriously, even when Dazai plays it off, because he knows Dazai is a person just like anyone else. This understanding between them leads to Dazai telling Atsushi about Oda, thereby allowing Dazai to divulge a crucial part of his past.

Dazai and Yozo’s Friendships

Similarly to Yozo, Dazai’s attempt at “disentangling” himself from these relationships only serves to wear him out in the end. However, they also slightly differ in a way: Yozo is unable to form any friendships for his whole life, but Dazai had Oda. I would argue that Oda was Dazai’s only friend, mostly because of this quote:

“Odasaku understood him far beyond what Dazai had ever thought. He had already reached close to his heart, the place near the center of his heart. Before this, Dazai had never noticed there was someone who understood him so well. For the first time in his life, Dazai wanted to know something from the depths of his heart.” — LN 2, “Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era”

Oda was special to Dazai because Oda was able to understand him — maybe even more than Dazai could understand himself — which is why Oda is the only person that Dazai asks for advice from.

However, Dazai does the same thing as Yozo when he “plays the clown” as a form of self-protection from such valuable friendships. (which is probably preventing him from becoming closer to the rest of the agency).

“Things that we don’t want to lose will definitely be lost. Now that it has come to this, I have no more feelings anymore. Things worth pursuing will always disappear the moment before you get them. Nothing is worth prolonging a painful life to pursue.” — LN 2, “Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era”

Interestingly enough, Dazai says this when Ango is revealed to be a spy — before Oda dies. If Dazai was in this state of distress from Ango’s betrayal, you could only imagine how devastating Oda’s death was.

Dazai speaks as if he’s speaking from experience, which suggests that he’s faced a similar loss in the past. Despite this implied experience, he still became friends with Oda (and Ango to an extent), fully knowing that it would only bring him pain in the end. Dazai's statement here acts more as a front that makes him sound cold and detached from the situation, only to hide how he truly feels about losing one of his only friends.

To give some context to this passage, Yozo’s partner, Yoshiko, had been sexually assaulted by a coworker, of which Yozo attributes the cause to her overly trusting nature. Thus, this leads to Yozo’s belief that trustfulness is inherently wrong or creates weakness.

Dazai’s hesitance to form friendships most likely stems from this same inability to trust others like Yozo, but Dazai does trust a few people, namely Chuuya, Oda, and Atsushi.

With Chuuya, there’s a different type of trust between him and Dazai. Their impeccable trust is obviously a key factor in their partnership as SKK, but there’s a certain limit with this trust. They certainly trust each other in battle, but I’d argue that this trust doesn’t extend to their personal business.

As of now, we don’t know a lot about how SKK interacted with each other during their time in the mafia (which could change with the new LN), but I doubt PM Dazai would feel comfortable with confiding in Chuuya with anything because they (kind of) hated each other. The level of trust required for a friendship would involve a mutual understanding between two people, but Chuuya and Dazai haven’t necessarily shown us that they were able to do that.

Dazai essentially broke his trust with Chuuya by leaving the mafia on a whim, but he also intentionally antagonized himself to try to make Chuuya hate him.

This scene also has comedic overtones, but it suggests something a bit sadder about Dazai. There are possibly two motivations as to why Dazai chose to do this: (or a mix of the two)

1. Dazai didn’t want Chuuya to be incriminated as his accomplice when he became an enemy of the mafia.

2. Dazai wanted to push Chuuya away because Oda — Dazai’s most trusted friend — had just died. As a form of self-protection, Dazai broke whatever semblance of friendship he shared with Chuuya in order to prevent the same pain that came with Oda’s death.

It’s also important to consider that trust is a 2-way street; both parties have to have the same level of trust in each other. Just like Yozo, if Dazai is unable to trust anyone, then he may have cut Chuuya off to protect him (since Chuuya may have trusted Dazai more than Dazai was able to reciprocate).

In contrast, Oda and Dazai have a level of unspoken trust that basically motivates Dazai to change his entire life.

“Odasaku’s eyes radiate with conviction. The words are clearly said with some sort of strong basis. Is it past experience? Or perhaps someone’s suggestion? — He is trying to show Dazai the path he once walked. Dazai understands this. Dazai can trust it.“ — LN 2, “Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era”

Returning to Yozo’s question — “Is trustfulness a sin?” — Dazai answers it by showing us the strength of trust in this moment. Trust insinuates blind faith in another person, the willingness to believe someone else without logical reasoning, which makes it all the more important when PM Dazai — the genius prodigy who operates on a solely logical basis — is able to trust Oda and change his path in life.

Atsushi is most likely the one that Dazai trusts the most in the agency, due to the aforementioned issues with the other members. However, it seems more like a budding trust that’s growing to become like Oda and Dazai, but it still requires Dazai to take that step forward to further their trust.

Dazai and Yozo’s View of the World

In this scene, Yozo had made a decision for immediate gratification, but that choice caused him insufferable pain afterwards — supporting his belief that the world was a “place of bottomless horror.”

This parallels two of Dazai’s statements: one from Dark Era and one from Dead Apple.

“Please, take me with you. Wake me up from this rotten world of a dream. Come on, come on, come on!” — LN 2, “Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era”

(Dazai wasn’t talking about himself here, but the allusion sets up a situation where he can talk about himself indirectly — I talk about it more in my other post here)

We don’t really get a reason for why Dazai is suicidal, but from this we can infer that it’s something more complex than he makes it out to be — something like an issue deeply rooted within the world, with no easy solution.

One could guess that this was the result of an unfortunate decision (like Yozo), or the realization that the world was simply a terrible place (possibly because no one cared for him as a kid and he had Mori as a “parental” figure instead).

Yozo expresses his lack of understanding in the compassion of human nature, but Dazai (as we know) seems to understand other people perfectly, as least enough to manipulate them.

However, this forms somewhat of a paradox: Dazai understands people so well to the point that he can’t understand them.

Dazai understands every flawed aspect of a human being — the tendency to manipulate, lie, kill, etc. — most likely because of his past as a young child. “Human beings never did teach” him the hopeful aspect of human nature — the ability to love and cherish others.

Shibusawa in Dead Apple reflects this mindset, but take note of what Dazai says: “You wouldn’t be saying that if you actually had friends” — clearly a reflection of Dazai’s personal experience, by knowing how important friends are.

Yozo’s deathly fear of society tames itself when he comes to the realization that society is really just made up of a bunch of individuals working for their individual benefit, so he has no reason to fear society as a whole.

I don’t believe Dazai has this same fear of society, but he does reflect this individualistic mindset in the way he acts. Often enough, Dazai doesn’t tell anyone about his plans and would rather manipulate people into following such plans, even when it would be easier to cooperate. He always takes care of conflicts by himself, and by his standard.

Yozo’s fear of society possibly manifested into Dazai’s ostracization from society. More speculation here, but → My guess is that Dazai was alienated not only as a genius isolated for his intelligence, but also for his ability. There seems to be some division between regular society and ability-users’ society, but I can see Dazai being rejected by both because he’s the antithesis to all abilities.

Regular society would either shun him like other users or attempt to exploit him for their personal gain (possibly for his intelligence AND his ability), or ability-users would see him as a threat and/or menace to their safety.

When Yozo considers a double suicide with his partner, he comes to this unsure conclusion of whether or not he actually wants to go through with it.

This reflects what Oda believes about Dazai:

“I thought you and Dazai were very similar, unable to see the value of your life, hoping for death, hence jumping into a world of violence and fighting. But that’s not the case. That guy is just a child who’s too smart. Just a crying child who’s been left alone in the darkness, a world of nothingness far emptier than the world we can see.“ — LN 2, “Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era”

At the end of the story, Gide and Oda are different from Dazai because they face an inevitable hopelessness. However, Dazai has a small spark of hope to live on that persists beyond the other two.

This is represented in Dazai’s own statement to Oda, when Oda is set on walking to his death: “Go and rely on something, hope for something good to happen next, that something will definitely happen.”

If anything, this sounds more like a plea to himself than to Oda, but it establishes an important point: hope is built upon the assumption that the future will treat your present desires well. Vice versa, hopelessness is built upon the expectation that the future will neglect your present desires.

It’s a bit wordy, so I’ll elaborate on. Right after Dazai says this line, they proceed to talk about their desires → Dazai wants to find a reason to live, so he joined the mafia; Oda wanted to become a novelist, so he didn’t kill anyone.

Now, the difference between hope and hopelessness:

Oda feels hopeless because he expects that his present desire (to become a novelist) won’t be fulfilled in the future. By losing the one qualification that he felt he had to follow (not killing anyone), he no longer believes that he can become a novelist.

Dazai has hope because he assumes that his present desire (to find a reason to live) will be fulfilled in the future. He doesn’t know that for sure, but he persists onwards regardless of having full assurance or not.

Dazai’s hope and trust in Oda brings him to where he is in the present, and takes him one step closer towards discovering his reason to live.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd meta #bsd analysis #bsd dazai #dazai analysis #no longer human #bsd oda #surprisingly more oda than i expected #very ramble-y i apologize in advance

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starrybouquet · 3 years

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(Preface: This has been sitting in my drafts for months. It’s a little overdramatic. But I’m feeling emotional about a lot of things, and that emotion kind of projected itself onto my fandom thoughts today, and I think it might help to let it out. Thanks to @carothepoet @scullybeane @edisto0304 @x-wingkc for encouraging me to post this. Y’all are so sweet and I love you 💙)

Sometimes I think I care too much.

Scratch that, I know I care too much.

Every chunk of entertainment I have ever loved has broken my heart.

And I look at everyone around me still enjoying it. Or, if the show or franchise is no longer around, at least they’re enjoying the later bits. And I wonder why I can't just sit back and enjoy it too. Because often, it's not that it's bad. It's still good on an absolute scale.

But no. I care too much. I love too hard, and it always hurts in the end. The pain of losing something I love, of it changing from something beautiful and brilliant and shining so bright I can't see anything else to something that has only a dull gleam hurts more than staying in darkness.

To put it less poetically, I don't want to remember things as just "good" when they were great before becoming mediocre.

This sorta sounds like romantic love, now that I think about it. Falling in love, falling out of love, being betrayed by your love. Only, it's not humans doing the betraying. Of course, this is all stupid because it’s just some video on a screen, or some words on a page, but that’s how the hyperfixation life goes.

We let people feel bad after being dumped or betrayed. Why can't I feel bad when my hyperfixations do the same?

If you can enjoy it all, more power to you. But please don’t come into my rant posts on whatever platform and tell me I should stop being petty and enjoy things instead.

Obviously, I’m not always perfect, and if I’ve been a debbie downer on one of your posts, I’m sorry. I’m working on it. But please know I’m trying. It hurts more because I care more, and that makes everything feel more....more. Just more.

So if anyone ever wonders why I live in my nice little headcanoned universes and guard their doors with a large stick, that's why. This has happened over and over, and it makes me so so wary of trying again. But I will, I know, because I'm impulsive and also because I always wonder if this is the time all that changes.

It won't. But I sure hope it does.

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yoolee · 3 years

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Actual, real world advice from Lee: Useful corporate phrases

I have no idea if anyone still checks this blog, and if they do, this has nothing to do with what usually gets posted, but I’ve done two of these, so here’s a third!

“Thanks, you’ve given me something to think about.”

Use it: When you get feedback you don’t agree with - especially if you have an immediate emotional reaction to it.

Why: Because it acknowledges but doesn’t agree. Basically buys you time to react privately without damaging the relationship. Immediately (and emotionally) jumping into telling someone why they’re wrong is only going to strain the relationship. When you’re getting feedback, you want the other person to feel heard (science says even having the opportunity to air negative feelings makes people feel more positively about the thing). That doesn’t mean you have to AGREE. This statement lets you acknowledge, while buying you time to process. This also gives you an out on things like opinions people have on presentations or projects: if they bring it up later you can say you thought about it, but decided to keep what you had because A/B/C and by then you’ll have had time to craft an ironclad response.

“I can’t, I have a prior commitment.”

Use it: When you’re being asked to work hours that your coworkers aren’t, or that you are not part of your regular schedule, or, you know, when you have a prior commitment and don’t want to give details.

Why: Your time is your time and you don’t owe an explanation! Yes, it’s important to be a team player, and it’s important to be flexible and get the work done when it needs to get done, bit if you’re in a situation where, say, a parent isn’t asked to come in the weekend because your boss knows they have kids, and you are because they know you don’t, draw the line. There’s often a temptation to justify unavailability (lie and say doctor’s appointment, family event, traveling) but you do not owe justification for your time being your own, and not wanting to take the burden of additional responsibility without additional compensation in return. Being in the habit of not providing justification will come in handy if you ever don’t want to disclose something later (eg, private appointment, interview at another workspace) - it won’t seem suspicious that you’re suddenly being vague.

“The goal/outcome for this meeting is...”

Use it: When you’re running a meeting.

Why: You would be amazed how different everyone’s perceptions of their role in a meeting are, and setting expectations so obviously may feel silly but wow it helps. Let’s say I schedule a 1:1 with my boss. I just call it, Lee/Boss 1:1. I walk in and start venting about how Coworker is always late in responding to my emails. What does my boss do? In this case, my boss doesn’t know if I want them to fix my problem, if I want them to just let me air my grievances, or if I want them to give me advice, etc. If they do something other than what I want, we’ll both be frustrated. If I instead I preface it by saying, “I’m going to handle this on my own, but I just need to say it and be heard.” or “I need some advice.” then we both go into the convo knowing our roles. This works on big meetings too, “I’m going to make the final decision but I schedule this meeting to hear your input…” “At the end of the meeting I want to walk away with a budget we’ve all approved…”

“What is the most important thing for us to accomplish [during this meeting]?”

Use it: When you don’t know the expectations for a meeting, you don’t think you need to be in the meeting, the meeting has a lot of people on it, or you’re getting frustrated because you don’t know why there’s a meeting in the first place.

Why: So that you and the person leading the meeting don’t focus on different things! See the above entry :)

“Hypothetically, what would the ideal outcome look like?”

Use it: When someone is stuck on a problem (including yourself).

Why: We tend to artificially impose limits on our problem-solving, which stops us from being creative, going into an open-ended hypothetical offers a new vantage point.

A lot of times when we’re stuck, we try so hard to make do with what we’ve got that we fail to consider how much more is actually available to us. Start with the ideal and figure out which components of it are accessible. Then work backwards with what/how/who questions. What/how/who are open-ended. They make you think! Consider: “Can you rent space by this weekend?” this is a closed decision, it limits you to yes/no, and puts limiters on the delivery (what comes to mind are event halls, restaurants, etc) Compare to: “What kind of space do you need?” which could prompt something like, oh, just space for 10 people - what about a park? Open-ended questions are your friend when trying to help someone solve a problem (even if that ‘someone’ is yourself!)

(not a phrase) Save ‘I’ for remediation, passive voice for problems

Use it: When you have to communicate a problem that is not your fault.

Why: Because you shouldn’t take responsibility for something that isn’t your responsibility - but throwing someone else under the bus is NEVER a good look. Putting the ‘I’ on action shows you’re working on it. Consider, “I don’t have bandwidth to take on this project right now” vs “This project will require more analysis than that timeframe allows, but I can start on it [later ETA].” The latter is stronger - the fault is on the project, not your time management (or your leadership’s inability to see that your plate is full). Also, “I haven’t finished because Bob hasn’t sent me the graphics.” vs, “The project’s just waiting on graphics. I should be able to wrap up by Tuesday if they arrive Monday. I’ve reached out to Bob, his ETA is [ETA]”. Same thing - it’s communicated that the project isn’t finished, but the fault is left sort of nebulous. You’re not artificially taking it one, and you’re not tossing Bob under the bus. Takes some practice, but definitely makes life easier. Caveat (there’s always one): If you screw up, take ownership and do it fast. It is always, ALWAYS better to control the narrative of failure than for your leadership to find out you failed from someone else.

(not a phrase) KEEP TALKING

Use it: When you’re interrupted by someone being obnoxious.

Why: Because you’re not done, and they’re being rude, and this communicates that without calling them out. Legit, just finish your sentence like you don’t hear them talking. Don’t miss a beat. Not to make this about gender, but this is something I, as a female on mostly all-male teams, have found to be EXTREMELY effective, to the point of other people reaching out to me after like wow that interrupting person was kinda bein’ an asshole, sorry, and me being like no biggie thanks for noticing and taking my back. Has that secondary reach out ever happened when I just meekly cut myself off for them? No. Caveat - maybe don’t do this if the person interrupting is like, a VP/CEO they won’t take it well. Also, second caveat, have some grace for your coworkers if it’s not something they do often and you work with them frequently - we all get overexcited and interrupt unintentionally. This is specifically for use in scenarios where a) you are not being heard and you need to be b) you are the authority (either by knowledge, seniority, or scheduling) c) to make someone who interrupts habitually aware they’re doing it to you.

Edit: The fantastic and wise @han-pan offered as well, “Can I finish?” quoth she: “I find it helpful because it identifies that person has interrupted, it is stark and direct enough to startle someone out of talking louder and louder until you finish, and it’s really hard to be mad at someone for asking your permission when you’ve fucked up.” AND I AGREE. This is a good one to use in those ‘have some grace’ moments, as it’s less likely to damage the relationship.

“Sorry, but I don’t have the decision-making or budget authority.”

Use it: When someone on LinkedIn wants you to try their service...

Why: Because they’ll leave you alone, usually.

“What’s the most important issue for you to solve/question for you to answer?”

Use it: When you’re disagreeing on approach with someone.

Why: Again, expectation aligning!

Sometimes people just dig their heels in on something. There’s usually a reason. Let’s say Coworker A and Coworker B are both working a presentation for Director C. Coworker A is frustrated because they’ve been given strict instructions to keep it to 15 minutes, but Coworker B keeps adding slides, even after A deletes them. By asking B what the most important question for them to answer is, A can use that as a guidepost to focus the presentation. (Likewise, if B asks, what’s the issue, they’ll understand A is really concerned about going over time)

#wtf do I tag these I don't even remember #lee is procrastinating #hello I'm alive #I hope you're all doing well and staying safe and healthy and more happy than not!#sometimes I take a break from samurai #to pretend I'm a functional adult #advice

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

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Charlie Chan. Who is fascinating, because he was created explictly to be an anti-Yellow Peril character. Unlike most Chinese characters of the time, he's both intelligent, physically capable, and unambiguously heroic. In the novels, he's simultaneously proud of being Chinese AND proud of being an American citizen. He gives orders and instructions to white people, and the narrative treats this as perfectly normal and acceptable. There's a bit in the first book, when an attempt to trap the..(1/2)

(cont'd)There's a bit in the first book where an attempt to trap the protagonist fails, because a message supposedly from Charlie clearly isn't because Charlie's English isn't broken, it's like poetry. Etc. The movies made him more stereotypical, & played by white actors in yellowface, but still, he's a heroic Chinese man, who is as capable and patriotic as any white man. Nowadays, he's thought of as racist caricature. Which he is, but still, it makes one think.

I'm not nearly as acquainted with Charlie Chan as you are (and I definitely suspected he was less racist in the original books because that's nearly always the norm when it comes to pulp characters) but yeah, that "Which he is" is forever going to be the most unfortunate and saddest part of it all when it comes to Charlie Chan. For all the virtues that can be bestowed on Charlie Chan, for everything great that the character had going for him and inspired, the fact that the least offensive image of the character I could find to put here for illustration's sake is from the Hanna-Barbera cartoon kinda exemplifies the big elephant in the room when it comes to Charlie.

Charlie Chan is a great example of two things: One is the way progress is never a fixed quantity and often what was progressive and forward-thinking in it's time can become something outdated and backwards and downright offensive given enough time, and the 2nd is my constant stressing that this is all the more incentive to reclaim the pulps and either highlight or fix aspects of them, instead of dismissing every aspect of them based on the preconception that everything about it's history is unforgivably bigoted and must be handled with the nuance of a sledgehammer.

I stress time and time again the need to highlight and understand the prejudices that went into pulps, because either ignoring them or wielding them as a weapon to attack them does no favors to anyone. The pulps weren't exceptionally bigoted - look at literally any medium in it's time period and you'll find bigotry and prejudice and hatred - and they were exceptional in the number of POC heroes and heroines. Pulps were a medium of experimentation and cheap entertainment that gave way to much, much more varied kinds of protagonists than were permitted in films, serials, novels, comics and radio serials of the day. Imagine if no one was allowed to bring up and discuss superheroes without mentioning the Superman Slap-a-Jap posters or the Captain Marvel story so horrifingly racist it was recounted by an American ambassador after it deeply offended a friend's son and a major influence on the 1950s anti-comic trials. "Pulp fiction had deeply, unforgivingly racist depictions that deserve intense scrutiny and cannot be ignored" and "Pulp fiction was significantly ahead of every other medium at the time in regards to authors and editors striving to publish stories about heroic POCs, this cannot be dismissed and is something that needs to be perpetuated" are not exclusive facts. "A product of it's time" is not an excuse and never was, but it's a fact nevertheless.

Every time someone speaks favorably of Charlie Chan in any capacity, they have to start with a long preface of everything positive that the character had going for him. Yes, he's a deliberate subversion of the Yellow Peril, he's a heroic protagonist, he's plump and good-natured and humorous but far from a joke, he's friendly and pleasant and well-educated and wise, he's a good dad and family man and a terrifically sharp detective who's so good at his job he gets called to solve crimes all over the world, and none of these traits are apparent to people who have to google the character and repeteadly see a white man in awful make-up into every single image of the character, who watch the movies and cringe at the broken English. It's hardly relevant in the face of all the Asian-American critics who acknowledge the character's virtues but rightfully point out that this fortune-cookie spouting caricature, acting subservient to whites and whose virtues are based around his proximity to a white American ideal, doesn't represent them and they shouldn't pretend it does.

Which isn't to say that to like Charlie Chan is "wrong", a lot of East Asians love Charlie and the character's obviously got fans in Asian Americans. It's a complicated subject and I obviously cannot begin to vouch in a subject so heavily based around perceptions I cannot experience. And I deeply detest the idea of speaking for others on their particular experiences on this kind of matter, which is something Americans do a lot everytime they talk about representation in media.

So instead, I'm going to tackle this on a roundabout manner by going on an unrelated tangent to bring up an example of representation that isn't quite representative of what it's supposed to be, has a lot of issues that have been dissected by critics among the people it was supposed to represent, and none of that stopped the character from being popular and beloved and from being claimed anyway. And it's a Brazilian fighting game character, which means it's completely within my ballpark.

Yeah, obviously Blanka doesn't look like anyone who lives in Brazil (whatever resemblance he bears to redheaded jungle protectors of Brazilian folklore is purely accidental). Obviously neither Jimmy nor Blanka are Brazilian names or even exist in the Portuguese lexicon. Obviously there are issues in Street Fighter's approach to representation across the board, sure, and I'd actually say Laura is much worse than Blanka in that regard (again, my opinion, obviously not universal), but the fact remains that Blanka is and has always been pretty controversial. Obviously there's Brazilians who took offense to Blanka and they weren't wrong to do so, and I obviously do not speak for everyone here, that goes without saying.

Obviously the idea that Brazil's major representative in a global cast of characters, the first big name Brazilian character in videogames, is going to be a freakish jungle monster who roars and bites faces has problems, as is the fact that all the others get to be regular people representing fighting styles from their countries while Blanka doesn't. None of the Brazilian SF characters represent Capoeira, which is kinda shitty to be honest. And there's a whole stereotype of Brazil as a backwards land of beasts and savages that Blanka's creation played into. There's no shortage of ground to criticize Blanka's representation and Ono actually apologized in an interview once, but then he learned one teensy little thing:

Street Fighter is very popular on Brazil. Would you like to leave a message to the fans from there?

"Ono: Yes, I'm aware. At the time of Street Fighter II a lot of the arcade machines produced went there, so I knew we had lots of fans there. A message to Brazilians, well, I'd like to apologize. I know Blanka's a weird character and I don't want any Brazilian to feel uncomfortable with that.

When Blanka was conceived, we knew there were forests in Brazil, and so we thought he could look like that. I was actually kinda nervous knowing I'd meet Brazilian journalists. Still, this is the first Street Fighter in ten years, so we'd like all fans to play, including Brazilians, which are many.

Thanks. Well, but you should know that Brazilians love Blanka

"Ono: Ah, good! I was scared of getting beat up if I ever went to São Paulo! (laughs)"

(That's from a 2012 tv special called The Greatest Brazilian of All Time where over a million viewers voted to elect whoever they wanted, and Blanka was going to win. He was polling ahead of Aryton Senna and PELÉ, fucking Pelé, yes this happened. He wasn't even disqualified for being a cartoon character, it was an open poll, he was disqualified due to canon stating he had been born in Thailand, which I think may have been retconned since then. Again, A MILLION BRAZILLIANS voted for this contest, and Blanka was going to win.)

Blanka is great and sweet and lovable, he made the best out of the incredible shitty hands fate dealt him and became a cool and strong green man who shoots lightning and flies, a self-taught warrior who rides whales and planes to fighting tournaments, and he loves his mom and friends and kicks ass and after he's done he dances in joy and gives the kids of his village piggyback rides, and Brazil loves him. He doesn't represent any existing person or fighting style, he's rooted in a negative stereotype and incorrect assumptions, he's not even really Brazilian, and he's our boy and nobody can take him away from us.

No criticism of Blanka, no matter how in-depth or even right it is, is ever going to affect that, because regardless of what was wrong or misguided and offensive about him, we claimed him and loved him so throughly that Capcom kept playing up Brazilian representation in every subsequent game post Alpha, and because of Blanka's impact and reception in such a big game, Brazilian characters have become a staple of fighting games, and that's how we got much more diverse representatives in those games. Fighting games have more Brazilian representation than LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE on media not produced here. It started as BAD representation, with way less thought put into it than Charlie Chan, and it still mattered to a lot of Brazilians who reclaimed it and made it better than it was ever intended to be, and as a response to it, it gradually became better.

Progress is not a fixed quantity, it's an uphill battle, and it's not unwinnable. Everything's gotta start somewhere.

The Good Asian is a ongoing comic that I think does the best job I've seen yet of handling an Asian American detective protagonist, which is not really a high bar in the first place, and more to the point, The Good Asian illustrates the 2nd part: the reclaiming. The Good Asian deals a lot with the realities that a 1930s Asian-American detective would run into, the strained circumstances and relationships between said character and the world around him, because it's born from an author who took a look at Charlie Chan and Mr Moto and the like and recognized the potential in those stories that could not be fulfilled in it's time period by the people writing said stories.

The Good Asian pays little reverence to Charlie Chan, but it acknowledges that it cannot exist without Charlie Chan, and it reclaims the Charlie Chan premise at the hands of someone more adequately equipped to tell a gripping story that goes places none of Charlie's contemporaries would ever go. Regardless of how good or bad of representation Charlie Chan was, Charlie Chan mattered and was beloved and inspired a better example for others to improve on or rebel against.

I desperately wish that I could google Charlie Chan without having to look at a guy in yellowface, and the ONLY way that's going to happen is if the character ever gets meaningfully brought back and reclaimed for good by people who can meaningfully tackle the character and present him as he should have always been presented.

And then, I imagine it would be a lot easier to show people on how swell Charlie really is. A true, positive role model and hero, who no longer has to look like a gross cartoon to be able to exist at all. Who can finally be what he was always meant to be, and always was deep down.

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #charlie chan #detective fiction #the good asian #street fighter #blanka

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