I’d caught the line Maui said about how his parents took one look at him and threw him in the sea, but it didn’t really occur to me why he would say that. I mean… it’s Maui. The dude’s fucking ripped. But there’s so few characters and so many of them are women that you don’t notice that Maui isn’t just stylized with extreme dimorphism… he’s like 90% torso… but he’s also the only one who is.
Chief Tui, for instance… you can see his waist about levels with his wife’s. It’s about half his height, or approximately where people draw a waist on a proportional model.
Maui’s waist is much lower than Moana’s and sits about 2/3 of the way down his body. He literally has half the amount of leg he should. He’s disproportionate in other ways too- his face is very centered and his features squished together even though his head is large.
TLDR: Maui, demigod of the wind and sea, hero to men and women, both, ALL… was born with birth defects of some manner and so, though it’s only implied through character design and a throwaway line about being a throwaway child, does that qualify him as being a disabled hero? If so, that’s another form of representation that Disney managed to incorporate into this beautiful movie.
i die all over again every time i see it. i am loving their dynamic so far tbh??? it totally makes sense for alec to be flipping out but magnus also just not taking any shit (and being really goddamn irritated) is the best. like, you know he understands why but at the same time he’s like, great here we go
the duality of these is just the most human of emotions tbh and i’m happy to see that it is neither 100% sympathy nor 100% frustration, but a combination of both. like, just because magnus is sympathetic of what’s going on doesn’t mean that in the moment, he also can’t feel extremely frustrated at the stubborn brick wall that is alec lightwood.
“Hey.” He mumbles after I slowly swing the door open. He stands in the doorway with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his soft unruly hair pushed out of his face with a beanie, body clad in a simple Nike t-shirt and joggers, his lips slightly pouted as he stares at me waiting for me to respond.
“Hey.” I whisper, dropping my eyes to the floor after I signal him to come in. He quickly obliges as if I’m going to change my mind and push him out of my apartment at any given moment. I close the door behind him and take a deep breath before turning to face him, trying to rack my brain as to why he would be here.
“Why are you here?” I question a little surprised at how monotone and uninterested my voice came out.
“I needed to talk to you. You’ve been so distant with me lately and I just wanted-no needed to figure out why.” He responds making me look up at him in surprise.
“I think we both know why. You don’t have to act like you don’t know what’s going on.” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I’m being a hundred percent honest with you when I tell you I have no clue what you’re talking about. Can you please explain to me what’s going on?” He asks sounding exasperated.
“You know…all of those times that you told me I was good enough for you and reassured me that I was all you ever wanted…I believed you. I allowed myself to be sucked into what you were saying, and then the realization hit me. I’m not good enough for you. I never have been, and I never will be. I allowed myself to be lied to, and I think somewhere deep down I knew what was going on. I knew what you were doing…that you were just playing me. Yet, the realization hit me like a freight train. It knocked the wind out of my lungs and has left me feeling empty. Now you’re here and my body can’t make up its mind. It feels at ease while also feeling like you’re shoving my head underwater, watching me struggle…and yet I don’t mind. Because while all you’ve ever seen me as was an experiment, a joke to laugh about with your friends, I still manage to love you unconditionally. It’s ridiculous isn’t it?” I ask calmly, looking up at him as my hands ball up after tugging my sweater over them. "You can cut the act Ethan, the secret’s out.“
He stares at me with a look of confusion trying to mask the hurt that seems to be pooling in his eyes.
"What are you talking about?” He whispers, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. For a minute I think he’s embarrassed, upset that I’d caught him in the act, but then I realize that’s not what it is at all. He blinks quickly and for a split second I see the glint of tears in his eyes.
“Savannah told me everything.” I state, “She told me all about your bet with your friends that you could get me to fall for you. That you could pretend I was everything you ever wanted and then end it like it was nothing. This wasn’t a relationship Ethan. This was a bet to prove to your friends that you could get any girl you wanted. I just so happened to be the lucky victim in your little game. She told me how you kept them posted on your progress and how quick and easy it was to get me to fall in love with you, how I was the laughing stock of your friends.” I breathe looking at him as angry tears sting at the back of my eyes. “Did it ever occur to you that I’m a human being? A human being that deserves to be treated right and not as a silly little game that you can just pick up as a joke and then throw aside once you get the prize. I’ve been hurt by so many people, but this has to be one of the lowest things that anyone has ever done to me.”
“Wait, listen to me.” He breathes, lightly grabbing both of my arms lightly. “Let me explain. I know I don’t deserve it, but I need you to know something.” He waits for some sort of disagreement and then begins. “What Savannah told you was true. My motives in the beginning were terrible. They were entirely based on a bet that I was determined I wouldn’t lose. I chose you and everything was going as plan, as terrible as that is. Then I started really getting to know you. The more time we spent together and the more I learned about you, the less prominent the bet became in my mind. I started falling for you, you may not believe me, but you literally became the only thing I wanted. I dropped out of the bet months ago, before I asked you to be my girlfriend. They all laughed at me and told me I was pathetic but I honestly didn’t care. I didn’t need them. They spend their time at parties drinking and talking behind each others back. They all hang out but they don’t realize that they don’t have any friends. I didn’t want them anymore, they act like they’re on top of everyone else constantly and I was sick of it. So I stopped hanging out with them and started spending every minute I could with you. I had fallen for you and that’s all I really cared about.” He stops and looks down at me, “I don’t know why Savannah told you about the bet it’s from ages ago and isn’t even relevant anymore. All I know is that I’m in love with you and that’s all I really care about.” As soon as he finished his explanation his head dipped down and pushed his lips against mine. Maybe I should’ve been angry and hurt, and kicked him out…but I didn’t. While the fact that the only reason he approached me was because of that bet, I was kind of glad because he was mine and no one could do anything to change that.
I really, truly hope that they let Luke Skywalker be Luke Skywalker in these next two films.
People speculate over whether he’ll act more like Obi-Wan or Yoda when really, he’s not much like either of them. (I would argue that it was the striking differences between Luke and Yoda/Obi-Wan in ESB and RotJ that allowed Luke to accomplish what he needed to accomplish.) There’s no reason to think that he would make a complete turn in his personality, even despite the similar situation he’s in. He’s older now, yeah, and he’s probably much, much sadder and wiser, too, but…he’s still Luke. He’s still the same man we saw in the original trilogy. He just has more years and experience weighing down on him now.
I want to see Luke as an old man. Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. I don’t want to see an Obi-Wan or Yoda impersonation with Mark Hamill’s face. If I walk into that theater and see that they just reduced Luke to a carbon copy of the previous Jedi Masters, I’ll honestly feel cheated.
A/N: I didn’t have much time to write today, so I posted this! I’ve actually had like ¾ of this written for a while but I never finished it until today.
“Ra-doon-hag-” You groaned, knowing you’d gotten it wrong. A soft chuckle reverberated throughout Connor’s chest, eyes twinkling with mirth under the bright sun of the spring afternoon. It’d been a long day despite the fact that it was only noon. You and Connor had lost the regiment of soldiers long ago, choosing to stroll quietly through the forest.
It was a beautiful day, the sun high in the clear sky, the forest alive with the sound of wildlife, the flowers blooming into vivacious colors, and the love of your life beside you. Of course, he didn’t know that. But, a sly smile broke out on your face as you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, maybe he’d know someday.
“Ratonhnhaké:ton,” he repeated, his tongue rolling over each syllable naturally. You couldn’t suppress the need to shiver, his voice sounding like pure sin as he spoke in his native tongue. Your feet stopped on their own accord, body turning so you could get a better look at him. Your eyes were lidded, tongue darting out to wet your lips as you watched him blink curiously. To him, the obvious desire was all but invisible. You weren’t sure if you found that more of a relief or an annoyance.
“Ra-doon-ha-gat-” He shook his head, cutting off your attempt. A nail dug into your palm, trying with all its might to keep you from claiming Connor right then and there. You needed control. Unfortunately, when the sun was illuminating the features of the Native and his lips were pulled up in a smile, there was nothing that could stop you. Control, you repeated like a mantra, holding onto the very essence of the word.
A soft breeze blew through the space between the two of you, Connor’s scent of freshly fallen rain and grass rolling over you. His smile broke, giving way to a much more serious expression. Even he could feel the emotions that were boiling over the two of you, drowning you beneath the surface.
“Co-” Your sharp cry cut off your voice, hands moving down to the blossoming pain in your abdomen. You heard a distant shout, the blood rushing around your body causing it to be muted. It was like the world was in slow motion as a searing liquid covered your hands, leaving nothing but red in its wake.
Connor was moving, doing something, but you couldn’t tell, the world dimming down to the sharp stab in your stomach. Your breathing felt ragged, something liquid traveling up your throat at a slow pace. You gulped largely, clawing at the skin on your neck for some sort of relief. It came when you coughed painfully, your knees slamming down into the green blades of grass below. Suddenly the world didn’t seem as beautiful as before, the rays of the sun much too hot and the scent of the newly grown flowers much too overpowering.
The stench of death was heavy in the air, wrapping around your form like armor. The world was darkening with your thoughts, the sudden reality throwing you into a whirlwind of questions. It was overwhelming, the warm blood sliding slickly between your fingers being a constant reminder that you were alive. The ringing in your ears strengthened when the faded shouts and yells stopped abruptly, two strong arms holding you to a broad chest.
You cracked your eyes open just enough to see Connor’s face come into view, fear burning back at you with his gaze as he shifted your form slightly, adjusting you so he’d have a better hold. He was carrying you, your head bobbing slightly as his feet pounded against the ground beneath. Your body jolted, a whimper being torn from your throat at the stab of pain in your middle.
“Sorry,” he muttered, slowing his pace for only a moment.
“Connor,” you mumbled, trying to move out of his grasp. He didn’t respond, only holding you tighter and moving faster. “Connor, please.” You cried, a hot tear slipping from your eye.
“I need to find you help.” He replied, only seeming to move faster as the greens, browns, and blues all blurred together. It was dizzying, causing your head to roll back against Connor’s chest. “Do not close your eyes.” He warned, voice cutting through you like a knife. You forced your eyes open, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he ran swiftly through the forest, the sound of twigs snapping beneath your combined weight echoing around the seemingly empty area.
“Please, stop for a second.” You begged, each connection with foot to ground sending aching tremors through your body. It was obvious he was trying to keep his emotions in check, his jaw tightened and his fingers grasping onto your skin desperately. “Please,” you paused, attempting to remember how it was pronounced. The memory was hazy despite it being only from moments ago, but you still forced it to the forefront of your mind.
“Ratonhnhaké:ton,” you whispered. His feet came to a stop, eyes shining down at you with unshed tears. Silence followed, neither of you seeming to breath in the moment. It was like his greatest fear was being realized as he opened his mouth to speak, emotion thick in his tone.
“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice like a melody as it rolled over your broken body. You smiled, the faintest drop of crimson spilling forth from between your lips.
“You don’t have to lie because I’m-”
“Don’t.” He interrupted your weak voice, an arm resting heavily on your cheek and something so terrified in his big, brown orbs.
“It’s okay, you did everything you could.” Each word tumbled gracelessly from your tongue, your voice made rough by the sudden need to cough bubbling low in your throat.
“You will live.” He stated seriously, his warm fingers caressing the smooth skin of your cheek.. The tone prompted a shiver, almost as if it truly could stave off death. “I will not lose you; I can not.”
This is my first published imagine like this so please be gentle with me!! English is not my first language so sorry for all the mistakes you can find~
Trigger warning: None
You opened the door and sighed loudly closing the door behind you. You felt like everything had falled apart at work today. Sam lifted his head from the couch where he was sitting looking his favorite tv-show. As soon as he sees your face he knows something is wrong. You see him standing up and start walking towards you. He embraces you and you put your arms around his waist burying your face in his chest.
I’ve seen some things about FAHC Ryan just deciding to wipe away his face paint, then and there. But I know from experience, that shit doesn’t come off with the swipe of your hand or a quick scrub with a sleeve.
So I’m imagining the crew finally convincing Ryan to remove his face paint around them. They’ve needled and pestered and finally got him to say yes, and they’re all hyped up for a big reveal of what is under the paint.
And then Ryan has to be like, “Hold on, I’ll be back in about 20 minutes.” He disappears to actually scrub all of that off, which really just makes some of the crew (like Gavin) even more antsy. But I also feel like it’d kind of ruin the reveal.
“Well, you’re very much not hideously disfigured or anything. But I don’t know if it was worth sitting around with growing anticipation as you took a fucking shower.”
rey completely and utterly destroys kylo. she kicks him to the ground and brands his face with her lightsaber. her presence is pure rage and fire and passion and she shakes him down to the depths of his soul. she upsets his plans, ruins his game, storms his mind and uncovers his greatest fear and exposes what he really is to himself. her contempt and scorn for him are palpable, burned into his soul forever with her searing passion and the last shot of him in the entire movie is him trying to lift himself up to get a better look at the woman who just destroyed him. this kid, this idiottttttttttttt, this utter moron, who keeps trying to be something he isn’t, who keeps fighting against the light as hard as he possible can gets WRECKED by a pretty little scavenger girl who was supposed to be his prisoner, who came out of nowhere and flattened him, shattering his entire world with her fire and passion and rage. and I’m not supposed to want him, this kid, this MORON, this idiot, this deluded wanna-be darth Vader, this melodramatic baby, this clumsy and inadequate macaroon to fall heart-crushingly in love with her????
she broke his entire world, smashed it to smithereens and left him in its ruins. it just makes sense she’d do the same to his heart.
Sometimes I wonder about your habits.
I wonder if you use big vocabulary words
because you think people won’t care about what you have to say if you don’t.
I wonder if you wear makeup because you like it or you feel like you need it.
I wonder if your dad is the reason you clean when you’re nervous.
I wonder if you’re scared to try new things, or if you’re just content with being comfortable.
I wonder if you dress like that for you or for him.
and I wonder why you got into the passenger seat of his car and how it felt to sit in the same place where he tore your heart out, and face him again and smile anyways.
I wonder if you put yourself in these situations where you get hurt because
to feel pain is to at least to feel something at all.
I guess I can’t really say much though,
I know old habits die hard.
“Riley, it’s my birthday! Just this once can you please make it about us?”
“Lucas, for the fifth time! I am not leaving Maya the day of her art show.”
“I’m not telling you to leave her. I just want you to come to family dinner. We’ll go there right after.
And her parents are there for her. She’ll be okay. It’s my birthday, you’re my girlfriend.” He reminded.
“We aren’t going to go through this again I’m done discussing.”
“All the other days I let you go to Maya. Just this one day. At least for two hours! Why can’t you do this for me?”
“Lucas, you know why! Maya is my sister. You’re just a boy.” At that, he took a step back. I wish I could take back what I said the moment I saw his face.
“I’m your boyfriend.” He whispers. “Am I just a boy?”
🎉 and 😎 I feel like you are really cute! -crushing anon
Ahhhhh I didn’t see your selfie from earlier omg how did I miss it?!?!? I was correct you are really cute!!-crushing anon
akhjfklajalkjas!! Anon, please!! You’re much too kind and I’m so flustered right now, like??? Could you be any sweeter??? Ahhh, honestly, I feel so embarrassed posting another selfie after the two I already forced upon you all earlier… but I also feel like it’s cheating to just link to them, so I guess I’ll share a selfie from last week (under the read more) even though I’m an awkward dork. >.<
This is kind of a repost.
I just wanted to explain why I drew ftmWill in bandages.
This is only from stories my ftm friends have told me and a lot of the times I heard about ace bandages being used.I didn’t want to leave that part out. They are dangerous,I know that.
But I drew it with Hannibal holding the ends of the bandages. It’s loose.He’s trying to take it off. I was trying to draw Will uncomfortable about it (his face doesn’t really show it though) cause he (ftmWill) doesn’t like/is insecure about that part of him. Hannibal is drawn smiling cause it shows Will that he doesn’t have to hide anything and that he’s cool with whatever Will is.
This is why I get nervous drawing this I don’t personally deal with.
It’s 5x16 and Lydia is finally out of Eichen. They take her to Deaton so he can help her somehow and the scene ends with Scott telling Stiles to take Lydia home because she needs to rest. We don’t see them for a few minutes, because the other characters are dealing with their own shit.
Next thing we know Stiles is sitting on the edge of his bed looking worried and exhausted. Suddenly, he looks towards his door and his eyes light up. Lydia walks in wearing one of Stiles’ shirts, her hair is still damp from the shower and she smells fresh and clean–she smells like Lydia.
He stands up, still staring at her. When she approaches him with a soft smile on her lips (which seems out of place, considering everything she’s been through), Stiles simply envelops her in a tight hug, lets her bury her face into his shoulder and breathe him in, so she knows she’s safe. Her smile is more sincere when she looks up at him.
She takes his hand and tugs him onto his bed, where they lie beside each other, under the covers. Lydia crawls closer to him until her head is resting on his shoulder, one arm draped over his chest. He wraps an arm around her waist and they breathe together, their eyes closed.
I have such love and appreciation for genuinely good characters. I love the characters that have moments of conflict and struggle and pain, but who are undeniably good and unflinchingly dedicated to the causes they believe to be true.
It’s why I love Luke Skywalker, and why I always think of Luke with his calm eyes as he throws away his lightsaber and refuses to fall like so many before him. It’s why I love Obi-Wan Kenobi, a man who lost so much for so long and yet never wavered from the calling in which he believed. It’s why I admire Bail Organa, a man who had status and power and could have played along with the Empire, but he didn’t.
Luke faces his own death, but he will not betray his ideals, because there is power in the Force and love and compassion. Obi-Wan faces his own death, because he believes in something greater. Bail faces his own death, but he does so with determination and conviction.
Luke convinces his father. Obi-Wan guides Luke. Bail leads the rebellion.
Luke saves the galaxy. Obi-Wan completes his mission. Bail raises Leia.
Obi-Wan and Bail die for their causes. They don’t live, but they do something meaningful with the time and authority that they have. At the expense of his own security, Bail organizes the rebellion against the Empire and raises Darth Vader’s daughter as his own. The amount of courage and strength that took amazes me.
They all lost so much because of the Empire, but instead of falling, they work and defend and fight, and most do not see the end of the struggle. But they stay true to themselves and their values, and that makes me so emotional. I don’t have words to capture what that means to me.
There is power in conviction. There is power in love.
This is from Yui’s live TwitCast that he done tonight. I randomly left a comment asking about his favorite type of girl, and fortunately he decided to answer it! I think some of you guys would like to know so I decided to translate it. I just translate what I remember so it might not be accurate, but I tried my best!
Q. “What kind of girl do you like?”
You see, girls always said that ‘I’m gonna start diet’ right? Like, even when they are skinny already. I don’t really understand that because I think it’s better if you get a little chubbier. I like it better that way. And I also like cooking, so a girl who would say “It’s delicious!” with a happy face and would eat my food while smiling is good for me. I’m gonna do the cooking so I want her to eat it. And of course I like it the most when a girl is smiling! I really think what’s on the inside is the most important. You see, when you’re in the Visual Kei industry, you’ll understand that anybody will be able to look cuter or cooler by the power of makeups. So I really think what’s on the inside is the most important.
If Fitzsimmons got a dog I feel like Jemma would spend three weeks searching for the best breed and the best breeder and how to pick the perfect puppy and then Fitz would come home one day with this sad little ball of fur he found at the shelter (he was just looking, really his only intention had been to look, but look at her little face!)
And at first Jemma would insist that they had a plan and they wanted a dog that didn’t shed but Fitz is already head over heels for the little fluff monster so she decides they can try it out and eventually the tiny dog worms it’s way into her heart and anyway it was Fitz that wanted the dog and she makes him happy so she stays.
And when Fitz is in their apartment alone, when Jemma’s caught up with work and he’s not, he feeds her extra treats and tells her stories about his girlfriend, who he misses.
And when Fitz is away, and Jemma’s just a little worried as she stares out their window into the night, she likes to have their little dog resting on their lap because she thinks she misses him too and it’s better to not to miss him alone.
(What the actual fuck is this title ugh sorry like I’m so sorry)
Word count: 1765 (too long for a Drabble, not enough happens for it to be a oneshot)
A/N: so this was one of those number prompt milex drabbles from like months ago but I can’t find the actual ask rn, sooo here it is… It’s this one:
38. “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”
Comments are always appreciated :)
There’s probably a number of factors to blame for it but right now he can’t really think past just about managing to keep upright and get out the right words, force his fingers into the right positions on the fretboard. He’s just finished a rather sticky guitar part that wasn’t entirely correct judging by the smirk Jamie shoots at him. It’s their custom, laughing it off, pulling immature faces at one another, but something must show, or maybe it’s the fact that he sings the wrong lyrics, because Jamie’s smile falters just slightly. The next time Alex looks up the song is over and Jamie’s no longer looking, taking a sip of his drink and Alex is immediately alerted to the fact that his own thirst has left his mouth dry and his throat sore. He swallows roughly, garbling a vague thank you into the microphone at the end of the song and wincing at an uproarious clamour from the crowd.
His ears are ringing and the stage lights are fucking intense. He’s not sure exactly how well he avoids staggering backwards when he raises a hand to his forehead because it’s hard to to tell when his vision is hazy around the edges, a gentle but very hasty prod serving as a reminder that he’s really not doing too great right now. With as limited staggering as possible he manages to make it over to the spot on Matt’s drum plinth where he always keeps his drinks when on stage but is disappointed to find that he’s got no water, just his almost empty beer from earlier, it’s slightly warm and not nearly as thirst quenching as he’d like but he downs it anyway and feels himself sway just a little as he sets the now empty bottle back down. It takes just a fraction longer for him to realise that he’s much too exhausted to even think of taking the six steps back to the mic stand and he really can’t even begin to force coherent enough thought to remember what song he’s supposed to be playing next. Another moment or two passes and he has to tell himself that it’s just another song, just one more and he can go offstage, just one more that he has to struggle through. Fuck. He swallows down an attempt at introducing their final song and instead just hopes he’s playing the right thing, limbs feeling alarmingly weak as a headache rages behind his eyes, forcing him to squint at the spotlights in the hopes it will make that pain less intense.
He’s absolutely exhausted when he makes it offstage, the song finally over, forcing a “thanks ever so much” from his cracked lips without even trying to tack on the name of the city they’re in because chances are the state he’s in he’ll get it wrong. Honestly he’s entirely eager to forgo the encore in favour of collapsing on the sofa, preferably curled against his very favourite person, those long fingers using their skills somewhere a little different to usual and running through his hair in the way that he knows is soothing. Miles had done that before. He’d done it when Alex was suffering a raging hangover, head pounding and mouth dry, when he was exhausted and sleep deprived, eyes sore and bones aching with fatigue, even once when he was ill and found that everything managed to hurt, Miles had taken his place beside him, those long fingers running a cool touch over his aching temples while he sniffled miserably.
Now Alex could only hurry offstage as fast as his blurred vision and barely cooperating limbs would allow. The crowd cheered loudly but he certainly couldn’t hear over the solid rushing of blood in his ears. Each step just seeming to feel leaden, too heavy. The air was thick with dry ice smoke and the lights made everything feel much too warm, Alex could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he walked off stage, the crowd screaming their dissatisfaction that the show was over or their appreciation for the performance, he never could tell, all he knew was that it was loud, really really loud. Then someone’s voice just off to his left, and an arm thrown round his shoulders from the same direction, alarmingly it threw his balance off but the person tightened their grip and he just about remained upright. “Alright mate? Look a bit peaky….” Whatever they were saying was drowned out as his hearing somehow became muffled, as though he had cotton wool in his ears. They were saying something else but he couldn’t bring himself to concentrate, stumbling forward just a little and then feeling very dizzy, eyes watering or vision blurred he couldn’t tell, he just knew that he was in the wings and from here the crowd was blessedly ever so slightly quieter. This had come on so fast, he’d had a headache all day and was thoroughly in the belief that it was purely a symptom of his fucking dreadful hangover. The vague self diagnosis would make sense seeing as how he’d favoured savouring a rare morning (or early afternoon actually because they’d fallen into bed at around 6am) with Miles over breakfast. He’d stumbled into soundcheck late, still hungover and decidedly groggy and from that point it had been pre gig cocktails with murmurs of “fighting fire with fire”. In hindsight it was a reckless day and he should have probably thought more about his wellbeing, or maybe drunk that bottle of water that Miles had thrust at him when he eventually had to leave the warm of their shared bed, less than eager as he’d missed Miles so very much and he felt very much in the mood for lazy cuddling. In hindsight he should also probably have eaten something.
If he’d dwelt on the matter any longer, he might have come to the conclusion that he was really very desperately in need of some hydration. However, he didn’t have a chance to think it through because all of a sudden he was hit with the realisation that this headache was really very bad. His head was swimming and a steady thumping around his temples made him feel sick. Most worrying though was the softened edges to his vision. They made everything hazy, nigh on blurred and then there were entire blank spots, black circles that forced him to blink in attempts of clearing them. He panicked when he noticed his breathing becoming shallower as the dots swam, eyes slipping shut. He couldn’t even hear the crowd by this point, everything seemed distant until a loud and urgent “shit!” Sounded from in front of him, followed by someone calling his name.
He’s dimly away of everything dropping away, the once piercing lights have vanished to blackness, the ringing in his ears is replaced with complete silence and the smoke in the air no longer makes him feel sick. It all lasts for barely a second and then consciousness floods back and he winces, reflex trying to bring a hand to his aching head but all he limbs feel heavy. His eyelids are also leaden but he manages to force them open. “Fuck,” he groans awkwardly, blinking rapidly, head pounding. Vaguely he notices that he’s lying down and there’s something pillowing his aching head but he doesn’t have a chance to wonder how or when that happened because someone’s ever melodic voice finds its way to his ears. “Al?! Hey, hey love you ok? Come on, look at me darlin’, Al please?” Miles murmurs and Alex can hear the frown in his voice. He forces himself into clarity and only squints just slightly at the fairly dim lighting before pushing himself up and looking dazedly around at several pairs of eyes entirely full of worry. “fuck,” he reiterates sitting up properly this time and watching the entire room swim as he just blinks dizzily, “wha’ ‘appened?” Everyone’s staring at him still but it’s only when he hears a soft sigh that he realises someone else is talking, some medic that he’s seen floating around all tour, the same one that had strapped up his wrist a while ago, he blinks at him but can’t quite focus on what the man is saying, eventually he hears the word “dehydration” battered around and a bottle of water is thrust into his lap, the doctor seems to realise he can’t trust Alex, he thinks for a moment, turning to Miles with a “make sure he drinks at least all of that bottle”.
Alex manages to wave almost everyone off with a somewhat sassy “nothing to see here” along with a flash of a smile that suggests he’s completely fine. It takes him a second or so to gather the courage to look up at Miles and true to suspicion his face displays all his concern and just a little irritation. Alex just hopes the attack on his lack of attention to his own needs can be avoided at least until his head isn’t about to explode. Luck is apparently with him because apparently concern wins out and Miles helps him to his feet with little effort, catching him and holding him close as he stumbles and mumbles something. Miles doesn’t ask though so he stays quiet and lets himself be led the few metres to the dressing room which promises to be dark, cooler and equipped with a somewhat comfortable sofa. As they walk Miles berates him subtly, “Alex, you fainted… straight into my arms… I erm…” He doesn’t actually say that it scared the shit out of him, that he was worried but Alex knows what he’s getting at. Miles sighs, stops himself as he opens the dressing room door and urges Alex inside, he watches the lad for a second before he speaks again, he’s going for jokey but he misses the mark just slightly, “you know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” Alex flashes a smile at that but he can’t hold it for too long, instead he collapses against the sofa with no delay, absolutely drained of energy and desperate for some water. Miles stares at him for almost long enough that he feels uncomfortable but he breaks his gaze pretty rapidly, sitting down beside him, snaking an arm round his slumped shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Don’t fuckin do stuff like that,” he murmurs but his tone holds no real sting, just concern. Alex lets out a breath, “sorreh.”
A/N: I’m really sorry for this dreadful fic, idk the tenses are fucked up and it’s just bad, but y'know…
A/N: also I forgot that I was supposed to say thanks to Anna and also Ambar because they both helped loads with the idea for this one, thanks! :)
And maybe I’m a little late to the party but I really want to share how perfect this mook is:
I’d never bought an official item like this one before, and I wish everyone could have gotten hold of one, because now that I have it in my hands I can say that IT’S NOT THE SAME just seeing scans here on tumblr, it’s just… not the same.
There’re a lot of details I haven’t noticed like the little scales Harus has in his face and shoulder (maybe I was just blind):
Or that the frames, the dolphin, the shark, and other details on the cover and the back are made with metallic tape (or smth similar) which makes it look more elegant:
And Haru’s face in the bite scene is more lewd now that I see it closely lol (I still can’t get over it not sorry):
And of course I can’t forget the beautiful bracelet, it’s so well made, delicate and detailed, like the dolphin and shark have stars for eyes:
So basically I’m just really happy to have it and I need to thank fencer-x for giving us the chance to buy it through her, and her hard work at ordering and shipping so many xD
I’ll let more pictures under the cut because it’s never enough: