#i know i've made like ten posts about this line already | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

patrophthia · 1 year

Text

it wasn’t implied? | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader

genre: fluff, pining, maybe angst¿?, miscommunications, secret confessions, not proofread

wc: 4.2k

originally posted on wattpad

"i saw you," sirius said lowly, smirking, "you two think you're so sly but i see everything."

"i don't know what you're talking about."

"sure, you don't," he remarked with a roll of his eyes, "you never know what i'm talking about, not when i told you that your crush on remus was obvious, not when i tell you that remus fancies you back and definitely not when i saw —with my very own two eyes— you kissing."

"just be careful doll, i've been there before," he told her softly, making her glance at him. "you've been there before?" she repeated testingly, not understanding what sirius meant. "i was once remus when i was younger."

"where should we go next?" peter asked excitedly, holding onto the teddy sirius had won for him for dear life.

it was a hogsmeade weekend, the marauders had decided that it was a bright idea to sneak off to an amusement park. the sun was setting, a pretty mix of pink and blues with hint of gold within it. they stood in the middle of the park, pulling at their coat tightly to keep themselves warm whilst james suffered in a corner.

"definitely not the roller coaster again," said lily wearily, eyeing james from where she stood as he hunched over a garbage can with remus and sirius to his side. "anything but the roller coaster again."

"i'm pretty sure they're done with it," she said kindly, watching as remus rubbed james' back in a soothing manner, "we've been on it four times now, i don't think they'd like to go on it for any longer."

"hopefully, you're right," lily muttered under her breath as the group of boys returned.

james looked up, smiling charmingly. "what's next?"

"i wanted to go on the ferris wheel," said sirius off-handedly, his hands digging into his pocket to keep itself away from the cold, "the sunset's nice."

"okay," lily agreed; nodding her head as she approached james' side, lily looped her arm around his and began leading the way when she realized that two of their friends were missing. turning around, lily spotted the pair conversing between themselves. "guys?"

"yes?" remus looked up, finally noticing that their friends were ten steps away and blushed. "sorry."

lily only smiled, giving him a pointed look and glanced down slightly. "is she cold?"

"very," she answered, voice muffled as her head was pressed against remus' torso, holding onto him tightly. "remus is very warm."

"of course, he is. the man's a human furnace," sirius said, almost frowning, "now, c'mon i want to see prongs throw up again."

"that's disgusting," she whispered just loud enough for remus to hear, moving her head slightly to look up at him.

"it's pads, what'd you expect?" he asked in return, smiling fondly at her.

she scrunched her nose in disgust, accidentally picturing james going through hell once more at sirius expense. "less suffering for the man who's already legally blind?"

remus laughed at that, making sirius groan even more. "would you stop flirting please?" sirius whined dramatically, "seriously princess, are we going to get an apology here?"

pulling away from remus completely, she stood besides him and assessed their friends.

"sorry, i made you wait because i was cold," she started slowly, feeling as though she was a kid waking up her parents to tell them she'd done something bad. sirius tutted, pulling out his wand and casted a warming charm on her. "can we go ride the ferris wheel now?"

"of course, we can," sirius said brightly, all signs of his previous sour mood disappearing.

sirius led the way this time, bantering with lily as remus and [name] walked slightly behind. shoulders brushing against one another as they listened into their friends arguing.

somewhere between where they started to the waiting line, remus had managed to slip his hand into her's intertwining them together.

she looked up at him, surprised —not to mention, extremely flustered, and smiled. an action that remus reciprocated along with a comforting squeeze of her hand.

james, lily, sirius, and peter took a car of their own. insisting that remus was too tall (as if it made any sense) to fit into their carriage so it would be better to have her accompany him as to not have him be lonely. all four completely oblivious to just how obvious their match making attempt was.

"this is nice," remus commented absentmindedly, looking over his shoulder, "it's so pretty up here."

"it is," she concurred, eyes kept on remus. tinge of pink and blue with the slightest hint of purple, painted his face, green eyes shining brightly. "they're taking pictures of us."

remus turned abruptly, concern written all over his face, "what?"

"them." she pointed upwards, remus eyed her direction and found their friends in the other car grinning and waving at them.

lily had her polaroid camera in her hand, it pointing at them. she gestured her over, shouting about how she couldn't fit her into the frame unless she sat besides remus. she followed her request, moving to sit by his side and looked up at them.

their was a flash, lily took the first polaroid out and handed it to james who was besides her. "smile!" she shouted before adding, "move closer, [name]! you're too far away!"

again, she did what she was told, scooting over and rested her head on remus' shoulder, smiling up at lily. remus laid his head on top of hers, beaming at the camera as well. lily counted from three and the flash went, sitting back down when she was satisfied with its result.

remus hand found hers once more, holding onto it firmly. "i think i might fall asleep."

"go ahead," she said lightly, "i've been working on my levitation spell, i can get you back to hogwarts safely."

remus lifted his head up so he could look at her properly. "as much as i am honored to the first person you murder, i'm really not looking forward to dying so soon."

she moved away from his shoulder, gaping at him with mock offense. "you underestimate me, mister lupin."

"and i've always been correct with my underestimations."

"that's not a kind way to talk to your best friend."

"actually i can talk to my best friend however i want," he said matter-of-factly, "that's kind of the point of being best friends with someone, being able to act however you want."

"you know what," she said, scooting away from him, "i don't want to be near you anymore."

"is that so?" he taunted, pulling at her hand.

"it is."

"i don't believe you." he leaned forward, pushing at her buttons. the full moon was near, which meant remus' senses had been heightened, making the both of them fully aware of just how fast her heart was beating. "i really don't believe you."

within seconds his lips are on hers, closing the gap between him and her without any hesitation. the line of whether their relationship was platonic or romantic, now crossed. remus tilted his head, leaning down to help her from straining her neck. the kiss was innocent, pulling to a stop when they were ushered out of their car by their friends.

remus cheeks were red when he left the carriage, blaming it on the cold wind. james had swept remus into a conversation about the prosperity of churros when remus took her hand again, holding onto it as he amused james with questions.

sirius was walking besides her, hands tuck in his leather jacket. he nudged her lightly —an action that almost knocked her off of her feet if it weren't for remus catching her. remus scolded sirius quickly before turning to check on her, after being satisfied with her answer he turned back to james.

"i saw you," sirius said lowly, smirking, "you two think you're so sly but i see everything."

"i don't know what you're talking about."

"sirius, you're seventeen stop talking like you're in your eighties," she said exasperatedly, "and i'm really confuse right now. what the fuck do you mean you were once remus, were you once tall and cute or something?"

sirius made a face, one of offense and irritation with the slightest tint of hurt. "are you calling me short and ugly? you wound me, sweetheart."

"i'm not calling you short, sirius. it's just that i don't have the crippling fear that you would suddenly lick my head when i'm near you."

"tall people don't do that," sirius frowned, "do they?

"i wouldn't know," she shrugged.

"anyways." sirius dragged out, moving back to the topic at hand. "what i'm trying to say is that i've put someone in the same situation as you and moony right now. it doesn't end well, [name]."

"it's really confusing —and if i'm being completely honest here, i feel guilty for everything that happened," he confessed quietly, "i made it complicated. when it could've been so easy.

"so . . ." sirius trailed off, watching her with patient grey eyes, "talk to him. make sure you know where the two of you stand before everything goes wrong."

sirius gave her one last reassuring smile before he tuned into their friends discussion on churros. remus let out a laugh at one of james' comment, a pretty smile on his lips that may or may not have pulled at her heart string.

fuck remus, where did she stand?

•••

sirius was laying on the couch, james sitting on the floor besides him along with peter while remus sat on the armchair when lily and her found them in the gryffindor's common room. there was a girl, hunched over the coffee table, a small notebook in hand talking to james and sirius as she wrote down whatever she found important.

she must've felt her presence, looking up at them with a small smile. "dorcas, we had care of magical creatures together in third year."

she replied with her name, smiling as well. "what were you three talking about?"

"a project," she said enthusiastically.

lily sat down besides james, and patted the empty spot to her left for her to take. she was about to take a seat beside lily when something tugged at her hand, she turned, following the direction of her distraction and found remus smiling at her, his hand holding onto hers.

"sit with me." she was hesitant, not knowing where she was supposed to go when the chair was so small. remus must've noticed, pulling her directly into his lap and wrapped an arm around her waist, securing her in her spot.

dorcas didn't even bat an eyelash when she continued on, "would you like to hear about it?"

"sure."

dorcas began her explanation with a clap of her hands. "so i've been reading a new romance novel and in it there's this muggle newspapers thing where people can mail something they wanted to say to someone they loved or cared for, whether romantically or platonically, it was called the W.L.U segment —standing for words left unsaid."

"i thought it was cool so i asked dumbledore if i could somehow pull an event together and he said no but i'm known to be quite annoying so i used that to my advantage and eventually he agreed."

"so." she clapped her hands together. "on march, thirteen, the fifth floor corridor will be plastered by sticky notes with hand written words on them for each person that is submitted to. it is by first name only and there would be a spell to prevent you from actually recognizing who's ever hand writing it is, so everything will be anonymous."

she had many questions, unsure how everything will work out like dorcas planned it out to. there was thousands of students at hogwarts, how can she fit them all in the corridors (even if the name were to overlap), how will the letters be submitted if it was anonymous, and most importantly —how will filch's cat resist the urge to claw off all the notes?

instead she settled on asking, "march thirteen?"

"it's when my dad first met my mother," she said with small smile, "under a clementine tree."

"can everyone just submit anonymously?" peter asked, intrigued.

"that's pretty much the whole idea, no one would know who said what. we're giving out special notes that would magick itself out of your life the second you've finished writing and it would be added to the wall. the notes will be owled out to everyone, because if you saw someone trying to get the notes you'll be suspicious of them, ya know?"

and then she added, "the identities would be unknown unless you sign it off with your full name, or initials for whoever it is you wrote it to, to guess. it's up to you really, if you want your identity to be known then you make it known."

"are you sure it will stay anonymous?" he followed up skeptically.

"cross my heart. not even the ones preparing this project would know."

•••

march came fast, so did remus' birthday —an event that had left her more confuse then she was before hand. the marauders had threw him a surprise party, one she attended in high spirits.

around midnight, marlene had dragged her into a circle where their friends was waiting for her. "we're playing truth or dare," she had told her.

the first few rounds was fun for the most part, her having done stupid dares that had spilled out of peter's drunken lips (the gryffindor is the funniest when he's absolutely wasted).

remus' birthday cake sat in the center of the circle, everyone enjoying their slices while they played the game. remus picked dare for the third time, keeping up with the courageous gryffindor spirit.

dorcas perked up at this, getting her word in before anyone else could. "i dare you to kiss the person you find most beautiful in this room."

sirius had pouted his lips out for him only to be blatantly ignored by remus. the room was —more or less— unphased when remus had made his way over to [name], cupping her face and kissed her.

soft and quick.

when he pulled away, he made his way back to his seat and acted like nothing had happened.

dorcas nudged her from her right, giggling slightly as she spoke, "i knew he would kiss you."

then the question she tried so desperately to forget resurfaces. what were they? where did she stand?

the next day comes and dumbledore introduced the project at dinner, letting dorcas up on the podium which she spoke at proudly, informing everyone of her plans and answering any questions they had.

the notes arrived the next morning, students walked around chatting about who they planned to write to and by dinner time half of the castle had written and sent off their first notes.

march, thirteen came and she was rudely awakened by dorcas and sirius pounding at her door, announcing that the project has been opened for viewing and that they needed to see it as soon as possible.

she quickly got dressed and followed them into the common room. stood by the entrance was the rest of their friend group, all looking tired out of their mind.

james led the way towards the fifth floor, the corridors walls littered with notes, all belonging to a group of names in alphabetical order.

their group went through the names one by one, being nosy when there seemed to be some sort of drama in the mysterious notes. some of the notes were on the sweet side, some malicious.

james was a common name but they were —luckily enough— able to identify which one was their james based off of how some referred him as 'the quidditch king' or 'james, potter, james potter' or the last (and definitely sirius' favorite way of identifying james out of them all) was 'james, the four eyed one.'

there was various love confessions, some cussing him for not giving them a position on the gryffindor's quidditch team, and some compliments about how much they wanted to run their hands through his beautiful, beautiful hair.

"you smell." sirius read out loud, ignoring the tiny :) that was drawn on the note to laugh at james' face. "i think that's for you, prongs."

"shut up, pads. you smell like wet dog."

then was the letter R standing tall above the name remus. on the wall stuck countless amount of notes, all confessing just how pretty they thought remus was. his pretty eyes, his pretty nose, his pretty lips and how much they wanted to kiss it and his stupidly pretty hands.

"good god moony, what spell have you put hogwarts under," james said slightly horrified, his eyes gluing to each notes that stuck under the name remus, "what have you done?"

"i haven't done anything," remus replied, his tone defensive, "and we can't be sure this is about me, i'm not the only person named remus."

"yeah but you're the only person in this school with that name." dorcas pointed out, just as fascinated as the rest of them with the amount of letters he received.

something caught her attention, making her take a step forward so she could get a better look at it. dorcas turned to her friend, fingers pointed at a note written in blue paper. "this handwriting looks familiar."

she followed dorcas' hand, reading the note to herself. i'm so confuse, remus. where do i stand? am i your girlfriend or am i just a girl that's a friend?

below it was another note written with same handwriting. i shouldn't have let you kissed me the first time and i definitely shouldn't have let you done it the second since all it did was amplify how i feel for you.

sirius cleared his throat loudly, pulling their attention to him. "this is boring," he began, grey eyes firmly locked with her, "let's go read mine."

he pulled her away with a smile to the others, hoping that they'd follow without questioning. "you wrote it didn't you?"

"wrote what." she acted oblivious, standing before the wall filled with notes for the name sirius. he, like remus, was the only one with that name.

"those notes." he rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"isn't there supposed to be a spell to prevent people from knowing who wrote it?"

"there is," he concurred, "i actually don't know for sure. 's why i'm asking you. i don't recognize your hand writing but i know the situation mentioned like the back of my hands. i can only assume and i know they can too."

"so now everyone knows that i'm confused about what remus and i are?"

"pretty much," lily joined in, standing besides her. "god, sirius why is so many people angry at you?"

"why people are upset with me is not important right now," said sirius distractedly, "what's important is that moony read those notes —just like we did, need i remind you— and he still hasn't come to try and talk to you."

"maybe he doesn't know it's from me—"

"remus is not a basket case, darling," cut in sirius. "he's being slow on purpose."

lily tsked. "men are stupid, [name]." she reminded, not sparing a second at the baffled look sirius threw her. "let's go read the ones with your name on it."

there was only so many notes for someone with her name, all littered with different colors and signed with their initials on it. she didn't know half of the possible initials but one specifically caught her eyes.

r.l

she hoped, despite knowing that she shouldn't, hoped that it was from him and that he had written it for her.

above the initials was the note itself, written in a set of neat handwritings that was so similar and yet so unidentifiable, it had her heart jumping to her throat.

i had hoped that one day i could shun you out of my mind but i cannot, not when you are the only thing running through it. not when the idea that you'd let me kiss you again is stuck in my mind. the same mind that hasn't stopped thinking about you before i even knew how much i liked you.

i can only hope you would forgive me for it. r.l

"you know," sirius said slowly, eyeing the note, "this whole confession thing would be so much easier if you just talked to each other."

"like you're the one to talk sirius," lily scoffed, "you wrote regulus a lengthy five note apology letter instead of just saying sorry."

sirius flushed at that, turning away from lily bashfully as he muttered under his breath about how she was no fun.

•••

dinner came after classes as usual. dumbledore gave the podium once more to dorcas for her to express just how grateful she was that so many people participated in the project, welcoming feedbacks with open arms.

dorcas thanked james, lily, and sirius, respectfully giving them credit where it's due. dorcas was half way off the podium when her eyes widened comically, running back towards frantically. "just one more thing."

"if someone has said something to you and you're sure that it's meant for you from that special someone." dorcas looked at her pointedly, making her avert her eyes. "talk to them, work it out. that's all, goodnight."

dessert wasn't even able to make its appearance when she was hunted down by the marauders.

"i need to talk to you." remus took a step forward cautiously. "please?"

the five of them trudge towards the nearest empty room, the other three boys leaving to give them privacy. "so," she drawled, "what did you want to talk about?"

"why did you ask me if you were my girlfriend?" he asked directly, not seeing the point of beating around the bush.

"isn't it self explanatory?"

"no, it's not actually," said remus, annoyance etching into his tone, "would you care to explain why you said so?"

"i said it so because, i wasn't sure if i was."

"you weren't sure if you were my girlfriend?" remus scoffed, narrowing his eyes incredulously, "then what were you?"

"i dunno," she said lowly, feeling stupid that this conversation was even happening in the first place, "it's what i'm trying to find out."

"okay wait." remus took in a deep breath, his hand in a pausing motion. "so for the last three months, i thought that you were my girlfriend while you thought i was just some friend who goes around kissing people?"

"that's not—"

"it's not? because, it seems to me like you thought so."

"well it's not my fault you never made it clear!"

"and it's not my fault you never asked," he argued, "because, if you did —for even just once, we wouldn't be fighting right now."

she stared at him in silence, feeling speechless. "i'm so confuse."

"you're confuse?" he asked, almost taunting, "i'm fucking confuse. i've been thinking that you were my girlfriend since i kissed you in that goddamn ferris wheel."

"you thought we've been dating for three months?"

"yes," he said with a nod, "since we went on that ferris wheel and i kissed you. you didn't pull away, you kissed me back so i thought the feelings were mutual but apparently not."

"so that night," she murmured slowly, "your birthday." she clarified. "you kissed me because you were my 'boyfriend' and not because you were drunk."

"i kissed you because, you truly were the most beautiful person in that room," remus sighed, "why would you even think otherwise?"

"i don't know—" she paused, feeling pathetic, "it's just something sirius said after we kissed, it got me thinking—"

"of course, it's fucking sirius," remus cut in, laughing dryly, "the lad makes one relationship mistake and thinks he's qualified to go off and give advice. look where that got us now."

they could hear a scowl from outside the room before a smack landed, a loud ow! and a shut up you twat, you messed this up once already following in its wake.

"nowhere bad," she said, defending sirius slightly, "he actually told me to talk to you but i didn't so it's technically my fault."

"it's not your fault, [name]." remus frowned. "this could never be your fault. i kissed you not once but twice and never bothered to talk to you about it. it was stupid of me to think it was mutual."

"but it was, remus," she told him, "the kiss. everything. it was all mutual. i just— i didn't know that i was your girlfriend."

"then i must be one shitty boyfriend," he snickered, chewing on his bottom lip.

"will you just shut up and kiss me?" she took a step towards him. "as my boyfriend this time."

remus met her in the middle, smiling shyly. "how could i ever say no to you."

—from bee: this is incredibly inspired by the unsent project,, check it out it’s pretty cool!!

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin crack #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin Humor #remus lupin imagines #remus lupin Angst #remus lupin scenarios #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin #🧳: my writing

1K notes · View notes

sapphic-agent · 4 months

Text

Let's Talk About Izuku and Bakugou's Relationship

Happy New Year, everyone! Thought I'd kick 2024 off with a new post. I haven't written an in-depth analysis in a while, so I figured now was a good time.

So, I've touched on this before, many times in fact. If you've seen my other posts, you know that I think that the BKDK relationship is a clusterfuck of codependency, abuse, and toxicity. But I don't think I've ever analyzed it frame-by-frame, so here's an attempt.

Childhood

The lake scene has the most focus than any other flashback in the series. It's meant to show us why Bakugou hated Izuku; he assumed Izuku looked down on him and saw him as weak. It's supposed to support the idea that Bakugou has an inferiority complex that's been present since he was a kid and that's why he lashes out at Izuku and wants to be rid of him. Because Izuku makes him feel weak.

But this isn't true. Or, it doesn't paint the whole picture.

One thing the lake scene seems to gloss over is the fact that Bakugou was always mean to Izuku. Maybe he wasn't as harsh and could be written off as just a kid being a kid, but he still made fun of him. He still went out of his way to make him feel bad about himself and humiliate him. He called him "Deku" way before either of them were (or weren't) given a quirk.

And he only ever did this to Izuku, not the other kids part of his posse. He, even at such a young age, saw Izuku as an easy target, someone he could easily shove around because he knew Izuku wouldn't fight back (this would persist for the next ten years).

It's important to note that there's only one instance where Bakugou's behavior towards Izuku turns violent. It's when Izuku defends a kid that Bakugou and his posse are picking on. This is the moment where Bakugou becomes physically aggressive; not when he found out Izuku was quirkless, during the lake, or any time before. It's here, when Izuku stops being the defenseless wimp who won't stand up to him. He doesn't like that Izuku stepped out of the mold he had confined him to (I'll come back to this later).

The truth of their childhood together is that Bakugou was always inherently awful to Izuku. It wasn't like he experienced one bad moment that flipped a switch, Bakugou liked picking on Izuku from day one.

Middle School

There isn't much to say about their days at Aldera other than it's just a progression of escalation from their childhood. They've settled into their roles as abuser and victim. Bakugou knows he can say and do whatever he wants and Izuku won't defend himself because it's been the status quo for a decade.

He revels in that power he has over him, likes to remind Izuku of his "place." And if he steps out of line, Bakugou exerts that power over him to shut him right down, stressing his inability to do anything about his situation. It's a cycle of abuse.

Deku vs Kacchan Part 1

I've already talked about this scene before, but this is also another example as to what I was alluding to above.

As @delawaredetroit pointed out in a post from a while ago, Bakugou isn't feeling betrayed here. He himself has said time and time again that he and Izuku weren't friends. He cares about the fact that his victim now has power of his own.

All their lives, Bakugou had the power and Izuku was powerless. That was the dynamic they were used to and the one that Bakugou was aware and repeatedly took advantage of. But now, Izuku isn't powerless or defenseless. He no longer fits the mold that Bakugou had tied him to since childhood. That's why Bakugou is so upset; not because Izuku kept something from him but because the power imbalance between was shifting.

And it's why he tries to use guilt-tripping here. He wants Izuku to feel bad, wants to reestablish some of the control over him he just lost. And it works, because Izuku tells him he inherited his quirk completely unprompted after the fact. Bakugou knows he has the power in their relationship and has no issues abusing that power.

Sports Festival

I don't have much to say here, but I would like to point out something very inconsistent concerning Bakugou's interpretation of his relationship with Izuku. He claims that Izuku kept following him around and that he couldn't get rid of him, which attributed to his dislike. But even if that was true when they were 5, it's actually the opposite at least from middle school on.

Bakugou went out of his way to target Izuku in the first chapter/episode. He also tracked him down after the Sludge Villain incident. He's initiated every one of their confrontations in UA. And here, he deliberately eavesdropped on Izuku's conversation with Todoroki.

I don't know whether to call it hypocrisy or ignorance, but Izuku was content to leave Bakugou alone. Bakugou's the one who's constantly harassing and obsessing over him.

Final Exams

Izuku daring to display confidence and competence invokes immediate physical violence in Bakugou. He doesn't like that Izuku is talking to him like he's an equal, he doesn't like that Izuku dares to step outside of his role as a victim. Bakugou wants Izuku to act like he's below him and gets agitated when he doesn't do that. He, in this moment, cared more about putting Izuku in his place than his own grade.

Deku vs Kacchan Part 2

I mentioned that BKDK is codependent in the beginning of the post. This is what I mean.

Bakugou can't cope with the fact that he isn't the best and takes it out on the only target he has. Izuku had nothing to do with his shortcomings, but he still felt the need to establish superiority over him; a grasp for some measure of control.

Like I said above, he's well aware of the power he has over Izuku. Do you think he would have tried this with Todoroki? Or Tokoyami? Or Iida? No, because he knows that none of them would have even dignified him with a response. But he knows he can control Izuku in a way he can't with other people. He feels comfortable treating only Izuku as his emotional and physical punching bag.

The Apology

It's interesting that prior to apologizing for treating him badly, Bakugou proceeds to treat Izuku badly.

This interaction is important because it's their first major conflict after Bakugou's "redemption." We're supposed to be at the point where he's changed. But he still resorts to insults and goading. His first instinct is still to put Izuku down.

I've said most of what I needed to about the apology. But I do want to mention that coming from Bakugou's mouth, it grossly understates what happened during those ten years. Because the abuser is the one telling the story, his transgressions don't seem that bad. He's the one controlling the narrative, so his classmates- Izuku's friends- don't know the full story. They don't know what Bakugou put Izuku through. Bakugou comes off looking sympathetic to their peers by speaking "his truth."

Was this his intention? Probably not as Bakugou doesn't really care what others think about him. But it does raise the point that this is the extent as to how Bakugou sees his past self; as a stubborn, overzealous child and not the abuser that he was

#anti bakugou katsuki #anti bakudeku #romantic and platonic because both suck #mha critical #bnha critical #izuku deserves better #long post #relationship analysis #tw bullying #tw abuse #tw suicide baiting

129 notes · View notes

twig-tea · 3 months

Text

Cooking Crush ep 10: This Show Has My Whole Heart

I wrote about some of the things Cooking Crush is doing so well in my response to a recent ask, and so I'm particularly glad that episode 10 came through with a strong flourish to get us set up the last two episodes.

I wanted to call out a few specific things this episode did that are contributing to why it's working so well for me.

First, I want to mention that the reciprocity continues! Previously, we had Prem comforting Ten during a panic attack post adrenaline crash. In this episode, Ten comforts and supports Prem during his worries about Samsee and the competition.

Picking up on something else I've talked about before, this show is committed to its character's arcs. Fire is struggling with his sexuality and his desire to keep their relationship secret last episode led to the conflict between Samsee and Dynamite this episode. Fire showing up to support Dy in public, giving him affection, and using the petname Dy insisted on having is all evidence of Fy's increasing comfort with it. He's already said before he intends to tell his mother, and Dy has been clear he's not rushing him. The way Dy is so careful with Fire but also so receptive to and appreciative of what Fire is able to give warms my heart (pun intended). And Samsee and Prem seeing it and reacting supportively too, because they know what this means to their friend!

[The gifsearch is not cooperating but please enjoy this gifest by @gunsatthaphan.]

I also want to talk about how this conflict with Samsee hits Dynamite hard, and in the context of knowing he's lost relationships with his parents because of his sexuality, to think his relationship with Fire could have lost him a close friend must be bringing back up his feelings about being cut out of the lives of people he loves. However, it speaks to the strength of his bond with Samsee that even though Samsee is furious and not speaking with him, he does not kick Dy out of his apartment. Dy mentions that he didn't see Samsee the night before the competition because Samsee didn't come home (we find out later why, but I loved this subtle nod to the fact that unlike Dy's own parents, Samsee didn't abandon Dy when he made choices that hurt him. I AM IN MY QUEER FOUND FAMILY FEELINGS, FRIENDS).

Along these lines, Ten going to confess to Prem, noticing that these friends are having a moment, and quietly stepping away to give them space is such a good character moment for him, since previously he's been begging to be let in to their shared space even when Prem mentions he's concerned about its impact on his friends and their relationship. Ten's realizing he can't be everything for Prem, and it's better for both of them if he isn't.

That scene of reconciliation, the three friends re-establishing how important they are to one another, that got to me. And that the show prioritized it over the romance! I cannot tell you how much I love that this was an explicit decision the show made, to say 'no, this is not the time for a confession, this friendship reconciliation is more important right now'. And I love that the show gives us a solid, character-grounded reason for why Samsee reacted so strongly to being left out in the first place. We've been told Samsee has changed school majors 3 times, and it's been played as a joke as well as an explanation for why he's an older student. I love that we've now had the consequences of those changes on Samsee's friendships added to his story. Even a "joke" backstory has ramifications for the characters in this show, I am obsessed.

I also want to mention that I am loving what the show is doing with Samsee and Metha, two characters who are the "fuck-ups" of their friend groups, but who are also the most loyal and most supportive of them all. They conflict with one another around what that support looks like, even while they enable one another to continue to be the best friends to their respective besties.

Prem has struggled this entire show to use his words, and in particular he's visibly wrestled with how he can gracefully reject Chef Changma without putting his own career at risk. In this episode he manages to say 'I don't think that [a hug] would be a good idea', and he's ignored. Ten immediately steps in, but I wanted to highlight how big a deal it is for Prem to have said no to this Chef--who he's idolized, who is his mentor, and who is a judge of the competition he's in--in this moment.

When we do get to the confession, Prem continues to lead with action, and Ten continues to push him to use his words. I love so much that Ten never lets him get away with copping out of saying the words, since it's something we know Prem struggles so much with. This speaks to @lurkingshan's earlier post about how Cooking Crush shows us its leads are better thanks to their relationship (in the same way that Fire self-actualizing and being more free to be himself and express affection also speaks to this point).

Beyond character arcs, there's one other thing I am very excited for heading into episode 11 next week, and that's the conflicts in this show converging so brilliantly. So far, the show has set up a few conflicts: Ten's relationship with his father, the cooking competition, the bullies, Fire's relationship with his mother, and Chef Changma's interest in Prem. All of these have now been queued up to expertly converge as a single conflict in ep 11, based on the preview. With Changma's advance and subsequent punch being recorded and distributed (I'm placing bets that this was recorded by one of the bullies, btw), Ten's father once again steps in the way of this relationship that he sees as a detriment to his son. Prem also previously stated that he wanted to enter the competition in order to prove to Ten's dad that he has potential, so these threads were already starting to come together weeks ago. Even if I'm wrong about the bullies having been the ones to record that video, they're sitll in the competition as competitors. And of course Fire has promised Dy he'd come out after the competition, tying the last thread of these conflicts all together around this single event.

And this is what I mean when I say the writing on this show is so good. Because the characters are coherent and consistent and have clear arcs, and the conflicts are grounded in the characters, even though there are several threads, they come together easily and in a way that makes perfect sense and that work with the character arcs rather than against them.

The last thing I'll mention, because it's something I actually brought up as a negative to this show previously, is the use of non-linear storytelling. Cooking Crush has used non-linear storytelling several times, showing us a scene and then flashing back to what happened before that scene in order to fill in the gaps. This can be an effective storytelling tool, but it has to accomplish something in the narrative. The difference between unnecessary and excellently-deployed non-linear storytelling is whether or not there's a good answer to this question: What is the purpose of delaying this information to the audience, and how does that delay affect the audience understanding of what they're seeing? In previous instances, for example the kiss and then flashback to the full date, knowing that Ten and Prem kissed at the end of their date didn't add anything to the viewing experience of watching their date, and having seen their date didn't change my experience of the kiss. This is why I consider it an ineffective use of that technique.

In episode 10, however, we get the cold open that shows Ten joining Prem and Samsee in the competition, and then we flash back. Knowing Ten will be joining Prem and Dynamite in the competition helps to colour what we see about Prem and Dy trying to get Samsee to reconcile with them, as well as Samsee's absence. When we get to Ten stepping in, we have learned it was as much a surprise (and disappointment) to Prem and Dy as it was to us. Ten stepping in doesn't actually work, but it does give Prem the courage to ask if they can compete as a duo, rather than just letting themselves be disqualified without a fight. And we later find out that Samsee was so touched by the letter that he went to his hometown to dig for prawns and that's why he was late for the competition. [I also wanted to mention this because based on @respectthepetty's roundup post it sounds like the cold open was cut for the youtube version]

I lied, I have one more actual last thing, this one is obvious but I can't not say it: THANK YOU to this show for consistently queueing up the typical miscommunication fumbles that get so annoying in every BL (in most romance plots of any sexuality) and then saying NOT TODAY SATAN and having the characters choose vulnerability and honesty and bravery, and talking it out. Every time the show does this (and it's at least 2x per episode, no exaggeration) I feel a little more faith in romance writing restored.

ANWAY, TL;DR Cooking Crush continues making me so happy every week!

#cooking crush #bl meta #long post #typed so that I can stop thinking it #sorry y'all i am so obsessed with the details about this show #everything that makes it feel normal to everyone else is what is making it feel extraordinary to me

89 notes · View notes

1d1195 · 10 months

Text

Traditional XI

You can read the rest of Traditional here.

Thank you so much for the love and support on this story. She and Harry have definitely turned into one of my favorite couples I've had the pleasure of writing about. As an aside, I will be posting a long overdue "how my taglist works" (because I a tumblr-elder and don't know what I'm doing anymore). But for those of you that have been tagged throughout the series, please check out the message at the bottom.

This is the final part (not including the extras I have lined up.) There's a bit of angst and a good bit of fluff. It follows part ten immediately and I also continued with marking the days/time because I think it made it a bit easier to follow.

Truly, really, thank you so much. Part 1-11 is 67k words and I’ve enjoyed typing each one. I hope you continue to enjoy reading. Without further ado:

“She gave it back,” he said stiffly. His throat was catching on to the words.

“Gave what back?” Niall asked curiously. “The apartment?”

Harry felt his entire body freeze over with a new fear that Niall mistakenly unlocked. It truly felt like his body was made of ice. He grabbed at his phone anxiously calling the apartment complex’s main line. He had to suffer through prompts before he could finally talk to a person. He asked if it looked as if anyone was moving stuff from his apartment (although he would have given it to her at this point).

Monday

“I’ll kill him,” Louis shouted, almost proudly as he entered the apartment. She shook her head and just burst into tears as she told him about all the things Harry did. While he was prepared to murder him, Louis’ heart softened with each task Harry completed to make sure his best friend was cared for. It was everything he ever hoped for the girl he thought of as one of his own sisters. He wouldn’t kill Harry. He couldn’t...not if he did all that for her.

Eleanor combed her fingers through her hair while the poor girl cried in her lap. Louis was frowning, glancing at Eleanor every so often as she spoke. “Babe,” Louis whispered when she finished her story.

She sniffled. “I don’t know why I did that,” she croaked. “That was so stupid, who does that? You should have seen the look on his face. He’s never going to forgive me.”

“Of course, he will,” Eleanor said easily shaking her head. Her voice was so solid, like she had already talked to Harry about it and knew with every fiber of her being. Louis crouched beside her wiping the tears out of her eyes as comfortingly as he could. “Harry loves you, darling,” Eleanor reminded her.

“Why was I so mean?” She choked on another sob. “I’d hate me. I was so heartless.”

“You were overwhelmed, love,” Eleanor promised. “That was a lot to take in, all in one day. But he meant the best and brightest for you. You have to believe that. Harry has never done anything but try to make sure you’re taken care of.”

She took in a shaking breath as more tears poured out of her; she was so unhappy with how she handled the whole day. Maybe she was overwhelmed. That would at least have made some sense. There was so much to be overwhelmed about. Everything she had been bottling up. All of which was threatening to burst because it just had to be one of those weeks where it all just piled and piled until it all crumbled down.

“Babe,” Louis whispered trying to stop the tears from falling but failing because they kept coming faster than he could swipe her cheeks. “C’mon.”

“I know you all went to the funeral for my dad,” she sniffled. She may as well have wallowed in the hurt a bit more. They needed to know she knew. “I know they had one...I saw it in the online obituary.”

They were silent for a minute. Louis didn’t move his eyes from hers for a moment. He pressed his lips together in a thin line. So of course, she knew she was right. They did hide it from her.

However, Louis wasn’t going to forget that she let them hide it. He stared at Eleanor for a moment; having some silent conversation that only the two of them could have. The entire time she continued crying. Eleanor gave her a comforting squeeze as best she could with her sprawled across her lap.

“I think you’re scared,” Eleanor whispered without addressing her comment about the services.

“El,” Louis’ voice wasn’t a whisper like it had been directed at the sobbing girl. His tone wasn’t gentle. It was like he was warning her not to continue.

“Scared of what?” She sniffed because she may have heard the warning in Louis’ voice, but she was already miserable. It couldn’t be worse than what she felt.

“Tell her, Louis. Tell her,” Eleanor begged. She turned her attention back to her best friend.

Louis reminded her so much of her brother, she wondered if he would have been as wise as Louis was if he were still around. Even for the goofball he made himself out to be, Louis was nearly sagely at his age. He was the one she went to for advice. The one she asked for help when she needed to get Harry a birthday gift. If she was stuck in the middle of nowhere, she was pretty sure she would still call Louis first. He was her best friend because he always knew what to say to her and even if it was hard to hear he always told her the hard truths.

She could see on his face that it was going to hurt to lay whatever he was about to say in front of her if only because she was already so heartbroken. “Being cared for,” he bit the inside of his lip, but he didn’t break his gaze with her. “You think it’s a death sentence,” he told her. His tone was soothing, even though the words were not. “Because when your brother came to get you, he tragically died. Don’t think I’m forgetting that. But then, your parents stopped caring for you...so it was like...you associated the two,” he explained. “And then, you didn’t tell me. So, in your mind, caring for you is a death sentence for those that love you.”

She was speechless. Her sniffles slowed, which allowed her to sit in the upright position, but Eleanor still had her arm wrapped around her shoulders. She swallowed as she listened to him speak without hiccupping on her breath. “Do you really think we wouldn’t have let you live with us?” Eleanor asked softly from beside her. “The only one that thought you needed to get your own space was you...and don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that you got Harry out of the deal, but you could have lived with us for forever,” she smiled gently at her.

She stared at the two of them and Louis looked at her tear-stained face with a frown. “Love,” he said so gently. “You have spent so long building up walls making sure you take care of everyone in your life because the last time you stopped taking care of someone else and had fun of your own, something horrible and tragic happened,” She looked away from him, sniffling uncontrollably. “But it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t. No matter how many times your mum says it was...no matter how many times you sit next to his gravestone and feel guilty for it. He would have gone and got you and he would have turned that steering wheel to protect you over, and over, and over again,” she couldn’t look at Louis when he talked about it. It was his best friend, and she just took him away forever...all for a party. “I would have done it for you, babe,” he promised. She hated the idea of that too so much that she let out another whimpering sob. “Now, so would Harry,” he told her, and the pang of anxiety at the mere idea Harry would fatally hurt for her rippled all through her body she felt sick at the idea...it hurt all the way to her toes and made her fingertips feel numb.

But Louis pressed on making it hurt even more but with every intention of making it better. “You can’t keep your guard up forever. You can’t stop people from taking care of you because you miss him and worry about the consequences of them taking care of you,” he said. “We all take that risk for someone we love,” he brushed the tears off her cheeks once more as they were finally slowing to a pace he could keep up with. She refused to look at him. But Louis wouldn’t accept that. “Babe,” he said turning her chin back to him. “Let someone else take care of you. Let Harry do it. You’ve done it for long enough.”

Tuesday

Niall found Harry throwing the lamp on his desk against the wall of his office so hard he was surprised the wall didn’t shatter. But the lamp certainly did. Nearly splintered into a hundred pieces. He flopped into his desk chair and hung his head practically between his knees.

“Christ, the two of you today,” he grumbled hoping to find Harry in better shape than his typically better mood intern. Obviously, that would not be the case. “What’s wrong?” He asked, closing the door.

Harry ran a hand over his face. He wanted to cry but he was at work, and he shouldn’t have. “She gave it back,” he said stiffly. His throat was catching on to the words.

“Gave what back?” Niall asked curiously. “The apartment?”

His gaze snapped up to Niall and he mouthed the word whoa. If Niall said it out loud, he didn’t hear it. He was shocked by the redness of Harry’s eyes, the withdrawn look. He knew it was bad when she could hardly keep track of what she was doing this morning. It was worse than when her coffee spilled all over her things a few months ago.

But seeing his best friend so distressed…

He was awarded the slightest bit of relief to hear the word “no” at the other end. It washed over him as he rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, alright. Thanks,” he mumbled hanging up. He sat in his chair, and he glanced at Niall balling his hands into fists. “She gave back all the money,” he mumbled.

Niall did the easy and quick calculations in his head regarding the last eight or so months. “Whoa.”

Harry told him all about the reference calls, the graduation ceremony, and the lawyers’ meeting with her mum, and the good news. He told Niall how he paid for her student loans and kept all of it hidden from her. Harry tried to hide the tears in his eyes, but Niall knew they were there in his voice as he listened.

“Harry...you gotta just talk to her.”

“M’pretty sure she hates me.”

“That’s a load of shit, alright,” Niall said knowingly. “She loves you.” Harry felt his heart hoping a bit by way of fluttering against his ribs. He shook his head. He didn’t want to hope because she looked betrayed, and it was all his fault. Niall shook his head. “She’s all snively and you’re all angry. You two are quite the pair. You could have a show.”

He wanted to throw something at Niall, but he was too exhausted to hold his head up, let alone hold anything worth throwing—and he wouldn’t really throw something at his best friend. So, he sat there, devastated that she gave him the money back. It worried him to the core. It seemed his new fear of her leaving that apartment was going to be real, sooner rather than later.

And if she left Styles Incorporated…

“She said that you needed this today,” Niall shrugged and put a folder on Harry’s desk in front of him. He winced knowing she was still helping even when she was upset with him. “Tragic that I have to play messenger,” he shook his head. “I hope you talk to her.”

But Harry didn’t want to press. It was obvious he pressed too much and now he had to wait for her to forgive him.

Maybe.

Wednesday

She didn’t come to work.

There was nothing else to say.

There was nothing he could think about except that she didn’t come to work.

He didn’t get to see her. All day and an entire near-sleepless night. He impulsively shopped for items scheduled to be delivered the following day. Items he didn’t need but he needed to get for her...even if she never set foot in his house again.

There was nothing else he could think about.

Thursday

Niall brought his tea to him that afternoon.

So, a new nightmare plagued him, and he continued to think of nothing else but the distance she was putting between them.

Friday

For the second time in his life, and moreover, the second time within a year, Harry left work early. Niall was insistent. He was agitated beyond belief, his one meeting he was completely distracted that Niall did most of the talking. Harry’s company was substantial, but surely, she couldn’t avoid him on the entire floor.

But she did. She managed somehow to avoid him even when he kept going in and out of Niall’s office and thereby walking through her little space. But she wasn’t there a single of the seven or so times he walked through. At one point he walked in for the sake of walking in. Niall was on the phone with a client. Harry just shook his head and left before even registering the fact Niall was there.

It was after the meeting that Niall encouraged him to leave for the day. “I don’t need to,” he snapped at his friend. “Jus’ get on with it,” he muttered.

Niall sighed, blew a long breath out his mouth. He packed his belongings from off the table and patted Harry on the back. “Meeting’s over, Harry,” he said and left him alone in the conference room.

He knew he was in tough shape but not even realizing the meeting was over seemed bad even for the way he was feeling. Rubbing the back of his head, he headed once more to Niall’s office. This time he wasn’t surprised she wasn’t there. Harry apologized to Niall quickly, returned to gather his stuff from his office, and left for home.

“Harry went home, so you don’t have to keep hiding,” Niall rolled his eyes as she tentatively tiptoed into her office. He didn’t look up, so he didn’t see the way she nearly dropped all of the papers in her arms at Niall’s sudden (accurate) accusation that she was hiding.

She bit her lip and put the papers on her desk. Niall didn’t look up as she walked toward his desk. “I yelled at him,” she whispered.

“Good, he probably deserved it,” Niall said simply. “People don’t yell at him enough. Think because he’s CEO, he’s without a flaw,” he shrugged. “He’s not, I’ve never seen him finish one document on his own because he never remembers how to fill it out. The man can’t multiply to save his life—I always do the tip at the restaurant. He has a terrible signature on contracts. It’s embarrassing to sign my name next to his. Also, he has a terrible handicap even though he’s been golfing for at least seven or so years now,” he said as if that should be the reason that she could yell at him. He looked up and smiled at her because it was an attempt to make her laugh but didn’t seem to do the trick.

“He’s also really cranky when he doesn’t see you at night now,” this was much softer said. His voice quiet as he further explained this. “And he bothers me. Called me at one in the morning last night asking if I wanted a porch swing. Do you know he has an online shopping problem? It’s worst when he's upset. He panic-ordered three sets of dishware when you got burned,” he continued. Her heart fluttered at the mention of a porch swing. It shot through her like a bolt of electricity. That was because of her. She knew it. But Niall’s attempt still got him not even a smirk. “You should probably go after him,” he smiled at her sadly once more. “You need to talk to him.”

She shook her head. “He won’t forgive me.”

Niall rolled his eyes again. “Would you forgive him if this whole crazy scenario was reversed?”

She looked at her feet because she wouldn’t even need to forgive him. It would be a non-issue. “I see why Harry made you his sous-chef around here,” she muttered...because yes, of course she would. Probably before he even tried to apologize, at that.

“I knew there was a reason,” he winked at her. “Have a lovely weekend, darling,” he said going back to the documents on his desk.

“Are you sure?” She whispered after a moment.

“He loves you. I promise.”

“But all the other interns...the...companions. I’d be no different falling all over him.”

“He fell for you long before you did,” he told her simply.

She swallowed, blushing at the notion. Her stomach flipped with hope. “Do you know he went to the funeral?” She whispered.

Niall frowned because he didn’t know that, but he did know that had to hurt her. He looked back up to meet her gaze and he smiled gently at her. “Another reason you should yell at him.”

“You’re a really good friend, Niall,” she rolled her eyes.

“Can’t wait to be one of your best friends, love,” he winked.

She took one more deep breath, hurried over to Niall’s desk. She kissed his cheek as he worked. He smiled. “Sorry I’m taking your job,” she whispered to him.

He threw his head back a bit and laughed. “I’d like to see you try,” but he didn’t mind, really. It would be worth it to have her around.

The driver was waiting at the edge of the cemetery. She took her wedges off so she wouldn’t get them covered in dirt as she sat cross-legged on the ground. She fiddled with the flowers—Eleanor probably planted them. Or maybe even her mom. She was surprised because there weren’t as many weeds pushing through the ground as there should have been—especially when she took notice of the other stones nearby. “I think you’d really like him,” she whispered. Of course, there was no response. “Louis likes him,” she told him. “So...there’s that,” she shrugged. “And he has a porch swing,” she added. “We’re not even together and he still didn’t cheat on me, so he beat the last guy, y’know?” she smirked sadly. “I wish you could’ve met him...”

She paused, looking around the grounds for a moment before she continued. “If you look, you can see a car over there, yeah? That poor man has to follow me everywhere because Harry doesn’t want me to get stuck without a ride in inclement weather or something,” she whispered, smiled sadly. “I’m so in love with him, I swear I can feel it in the atoms of my heart,” her eyes watered. “I gave him all the money back. I want him to know that I’m not...I don’t want money. I just want him,” she told him. “I know you would probably hate the idea of me being in love with anyone...but at least I waited until college...poor El stuck with Louis for the rest of her life,” she sighed as if it really were a tragedy. But it wasn’t. She loved Eleanor and Louis so much.

“Niall said he’s really bad at golf though, so you could still make fun of him about something,” she let out a watery laugh. “I miss you...so much,” she whispered. “I hope Dad is happy again,” she glanced over at the nearby plot of land. “He missed you,” she sniffled. “We all miss you,” her voice cracked. “Okay...I’m gonna go grovel for forgiveness, now,” she said. “I’ll see you soon,” she kissed two of her fingers and pressed them over his name before getting off the ground, brushing the dirt off, and headed for the car.

“Are you alright, Miss?” He asked with the utmost concern. He was opening the door for her as she approached.

She nodded, sniffling, and wiping her eyes. “For now,” she sighed. “Can you bring me to Harry’s?” She asked.

Harry didn’t want to answer the door. But whoever was on the other side knocked, then rang the doorbell. Knocked again. Doorbell again. Persistent.

If it was Niall coming to console him, he was going to kill him, simple as that. “For fucks sake,” he grumbled marching to the door in an angry fit. “Niall, y’made me leave early, and I did. What d’you want?” He snapped loud enough to hear through the door before ripping it out of the way.

She flinched at his harsh tone. Her eyes were puffy and red. She looked so defeated as she turned her gaze to the ground. His heart hammered against his ribs in total shock that she was there. Left him utterly speechless. “I know this is stupid...” she started. “I’m sorry. It’s not enough because you deserve so much more than sorry. It’s never going to be enough, but I am so... very sorry. I was...” she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what I was. What I said was so hurtful and so untrue. You have to believe that,” she was staring at her feet while she spoke. “Harry,” her voice cracked, and she was so worried it wasn’t enough. He didn’t make any noise and she was certain if he didn’t forgive her, she would die in that spot. “I know you didn’t mean anything by what you did other than to help me. But I don’t accept help very well... in case it wasn’t obvious. Especially when it comes to something like...my career or my...past,” she explained. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you; I shouldn’t have said such awful things and I would time travel back to that moment and slap myself for even thinking about speaking to you like that. It was horrible,” she shook her head. “I’ll beg every day for as long as you want if you’ll forgive me,” she whispered. “I am—”

Harry pulled her into his arms suddenly, one arm around her waist, the other snaking up her back to hold the back of her head. He clutched her against him as tightly as he could without hurting her or inhibiting her breathing. “You were already forgiven,” he murmured breathing deeply into her hair. He kissed the side of her face. She released a long breath and buried her face against the side of his neck.

“You shouldn’t give in so easily,” she sniffled clinging back to him like he was a buoy. Of course, he kept her afloat.

“I’ll yell at you later if that’ll make you feel better.”

She nodded. “It really would.”

He smiled, kissed the side of her head again. Harry wouldn’t yell at her if his life depended on it. “I jus’ want t’take care of you,” he promised. “That’s it.”

“I know, you told me that first day you messaged me.” He smirked thinking about how a year ago, she wasn’t in his mind at all. He didn’t even know she existed. Now, he thought about spending one second without her beside him and it seemed like full-blown torture. “Louis said I take care of everyone else because the last time someone cared about me, they died,” she said bluntly. “Seven years of therapy and Louis was the only one who said it,” she muttered. Harry was glad she was tucked below his chin because he couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. It was incredible she could make a joke in even the saddest of circumstances. She took a shivering, heaving breath. Harry tried to pull back so he could see her, but she squeezed him in place. Like she didn’t want to say it while looking at him. He nodded in encouragement for her to continue. “People will know if you hire me. You’d literally be making a position for me. And so… I thought if I got a job elsewhere... we could…” she swallowed the lump in her throat. She tucked her face deeper in his shoulder. “I…uh...”

He pulled back this time and didn’t stop when she tried to hold him in place. He pressed his hand to the side of her face and rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “Thought we could be a real couple?” He asked softly.

Her cheeks turned red as ever and she nodded. “Yes,” she whispered.

He didn’t pause for even half a second. He didn’t want her to make her feel embarrassed or worried about anything regarding their future. “Kitten, m’so in love with you, I don’t care if we tell the entire world. I don’t care if everyone knows or if no one knows. All that matters t’me is that I love you so much.”

Her eyes watered and her heart melted. She didn’t know how to tell him she loved him so much it hurt but he said it so beautifully and without a care. She didn’t know how to articulate it as perfectly as he did. “They should really put a warning on that site about how you may accidentally find your soul mate.”

He managed to smile this time for just a mere moment as she spoke; his heart skipped beats waiting for her to say she loved him back. While she didn’t say it exactly as he thought she would (but when did she ever do what he expected?), it was exactly what he wanted her to say and meant just as much if not even more.

Then he kissed her so deeply he thought he might bruise her lips. But if he did, he thought she might not even mind.

Harry lifted her legs, so they were wrapped around his hips. He carried her all the way to the kitchen, pausing only to kick the door closed. He settled her on the counter and started looking for some medicine. He didn’t ask if her head hurt because the redness in her eyes told him it was aching.

“You have t’take the money back,” Harry said leaning down to take her shoes off as she swallowed the medicine. He tossed them toward the TV room. “I shattered a lamp over it,” he stood back up and kissed her again on the forehead.

“Niall told me,” she smirked at him. He stood between her knees.

“Can’t have any secrets with him,” Harry muttered.

She giggled and Harry pressed his lips to hers again then pulled back so he could hold her face between his hands. He smiled at her with a shake of his head. “God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled.

“Mm... the bloodshot eyes? The tired dark circles? The gray skin? That does it for you?”

“M-hmm,” he pressed his nose along the side of her face inhaling the mixture of her hair and soap. He didn’t cater to her insults to herself. “Take the money back,” he mumbled into her ear and pressed a series of kisses down the length of her neck. She shook her head trying to ignore the dizziness she felt from his lips on her skin. “Please kitten,” he was begging. Objectively, it was adorable. But she couldn’t accept it.

“Baby, you can’t pay me a salary, pay my student loans, and let me live here all—”

“You’re going t’live here?” He pulled back from her neck suddenly with a sparkle in his eyes that made it look like he was a little kid. Like it was Christmas, and he was getting the sled he asked for.

Her face was definitely not gray at that moment. She was completely blushing almost beyond recognition at her mistaken words. She shook her head quickly, trying to backtrack (uselessly). “No! I meant the apartment! I didn’t say that—”

“Please, please, please,” he now for sure, full-on begged. “Please live here, kitten.”

Her heart fluttered and she bit her lip trying to recover from how much she had revealed by accident. “Well...what am I supposed to do with all my great IKEA furniture?” She asked.

He rolled his eyes and pressed his face back into her neck. She wrapped her arms and legs around him clinging to him. “Throw it out, of course.”

“You’re so mean.”

He nodded against her and sighed, so happy she was there. So happy she was all his. “The meanest,” he assented. “Please live here,” he mumbled kissing the curve where her shoulder and neck met.

“You do have a porch swing,” she amended verbally but as if she were weighing the consideration in her head. His lips on her skin had such an effect on her it was hard to stand her ground or concentrate on joking around with him about the idea. “Speaking of—Niall told me you asked if he wanted one. Are you getting a new one or someth—what’s that?” She asked, glancing out the window as she spoke. She pushed him away immediately, rushing outside. She stood on his porch in total shock staring at his newest purchase before she turned back to him with a curious expression.

He followed behind her and stood in the doorway. “You said you would sleep out here if you could,” he shrugged. “I thought I’d make it possible...in case you ever came back.”

Where her favorite porch swing used to hang, was now a spacious, gorgeous, porch bed with so many pillows, so many blankets, and it nearly looked comfier than her lovely mattress back at the apartment. Her eyes watered and she swallowed so hard because she knew she had said that nearly three months ago in passing. And he remembered. So even when she wasn’t speaking to him, it was enough that he did something for her without knowing if she’d really be back. “You are something else, Harry.”

“Wait till y’see my new canopy bed,” he smirked feeling his cheeks warm at her compliment. Her heart nearly stopped because the canopy was mentioned almost nine months ago and the idea that he remembered anything from nine months ago was...well it was very Harry and very perfect.

“Baby, I love you and your impulse shopping so very much,” she whispered unable to look away from that beautiful reminder of how much he adored her. It made her feel so light that he cared for her so much. Now that he did, it was hard to imagine not feeling like this ever again.

Harry had other ideas though. He twisted her so quickly, her breath caught in her throat. He turned her back to face him and not the new bed. One arm wrapped around her waist, and he brought his other hand to her cheek in the one instant that she couldn’t even stumble because Harry had such a tight hold on her. He smiled at her, as if he was just told he won the lottery. Truly, he felt like he did. “Say it again,” he mumbled pressing his forehead to hers, his lips almost brushing hers as he spoke. She smiled shyly, the heat coming from her cheek warmed Harry’s hand.

“Say what? I love you?” She asked looping her arms loosely around his neck. He nodded silently and kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you,” she grinned so cutely Harry thought he would burst.

“Again,” he mumbled smiling as he carefully squeezed around her waist to lift her just so her toes hovered above the ground. She giggled.

“I love you.”

He kissed her left cheek. “More,” he inched toward the new outdoor bed.

“I love you,” she whispered, giggling more at his sweet request as he kissed her right cheek.

“Again,” he repeated.

“I love you, so, so much Harry Styles,” she whispered, holding his face between her hands, and Harry laid her back on the bed and kissed her again, fully on the lips with no intention of leaving that space for the rest of the weekend. Or until she asked to go see the canopy bed.

Whatever she wanted.

taglist: @tpwkstiles @matildasatellite @jessitpwk @jerseygirlinca @stylesfever @tiredinwinter @ameerakane20 @kimmi-kat @avasversion @youcouldstartacult @likeapplejuicenpeach @manrocket-mo @golden-hoax @harryssky1 @michellekstyles @soachibstel1 @morklee02 @loving-hazz @harrysflorencex @cherrycolas-things @emma34501 @wish-upon-a-star-1310 @foreverxholland @daphnesutton @narry-heart

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :) When I do the extras/check-in blurbs I will tag you in those as well (unless you don't want to be, just lmk) Thank you all so much for being part of this nice little taglist for me, it's very special to me 💕

#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #ceo!harry #sugardaddy!harry #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #tradtional

359 notes · View notes

blossomwritesthings · 1 year

Text

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. | 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: veterinarian!minho (this includes a few of the skz members working in his clinic). client!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. strangers to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. minho is reader's vet. reader is now his past client. drinking alcohol and getting drunk/tipsy is mentioned. this is the first part of the spicy stuff. 18+ warnings under cut.

word count: 3.0k

summary: dr. lee minho is known throughout your area as the city's hottest veterinarian, and he's also the very man that's been taking good care of your two cats for the past three years. but one day, you're thrown down a dark path of heartache when the cat that you've grown up with - nyx - is diagnosed with an acute form of bone cancer. burdened with the hardest decision of your entire life, you come at a crossroads of what to do. and throughout it all, minho is the single most person who continually stays by your side.

18+ warnings: explanations of sexual fantasies/daydreams. minho and reader are extremely horny for each other. making out and some slight heavy petting. stripping/strip tease. softdom!minho. subby!femreader. slight teasing from minho. the beginnings of mutual masterbation. minho is pretty demanding but in a sweet way (don't get me wrong tho, his commands are hot as hell). pet names (sweetheart, pretty, darling).

a/n: I've got about 3 parts left to write of this (the next two parts are already done and edited), and I've decided to put this on a 2-day posting schedule. so I will post the remaining parts every two days. I'm doing this because 1.) I really want you guys to read the next few parts lmao- I ADORE all of your reactions to everything, and 2.) I want to move on to bigger and better things and I'm not the type of writer that can work on multiple creative projects at once. 💀 hope you guys enjoy this part, and let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs/asks!! 💞

🐈‍⬛ - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

He kissed you like it was something he couldn’t live without. As if he was suffocating and you were his only supply of oxygen.

His lips felt plush in all of the right ways - just like how you imagined them - his practiced pace signifying his experience with such torturing displays of affection.

He kissed you as if you weren’t optional. Made you forget everything that had happened and everything that stood before and between the two of you. Suddenly, you were forgetting all of the past hurts, all of the past struggles. As his mouth moved against yours in that perfect, ethereal kind of way.

When he pulled away, he took the breath right out of you - grasping a tight hold over the thing and yanking it right out of your very being.

You were but a mere puddle of loose limbs and flesh underneath him, eyes wide with a mix of surprise and satisfaction. And as you ran a few absent fingers over your mouth, you noticed the puffiness there. The way he’d made you delightfully kiss-swollen.

“I hope that wasn’t-” He began, much to your demise, to question your pleasure over the fact that he just passionately made out with you.

You silenced him with a few extra kisses for good measure, sliding away from the line of his mouth reluctantly, the seductive pull of his warm tongue. “That was everything I could’ve dreamed of and more.”

He rose a dark, manicured eyebrow your way, eyes shining with that distinct light of happiness and lust. “Oh? So you’ve thought about me in your dreams then?”

Feeling the sudden creep of a flush travel up the length of your neck, before pooling in either of your cheeks, you bit down hard on your bottom lip, reveling in the way that it was still puffed from his arduous torment. “I thought about you late at night for a very long time.”

The hand that had been resting at your hip for so long gripped a little harder, bunching the silken fabric of your dress between nimble fingers. Minho pressed into you, the knee that was still between either of your legs hiking up a little further. Almost reaching that sensitive, warm spot of yours, but not quite. He bent forward, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, teeth coming down on the lobe and biting gently.

“And what kind of thoughts did you have all alone in your bedroom, hmm?” He mused in a low, guttural voice that you had never heard from him. Then again, you had never been in such a precarious position with him before. So everything was new. A tiny gasp fled from your lips upon the contact that his mouth made with the side of your neck, as he trailed feather-light kisses down your exposed flesh.

You were still donning your matching shawl, but at that moment, you wished for nothing more but for him to completely rip it off of your body in a desperate attempt to get at you. “I-I'd often fantasize about how you’d treat me… so delicate and loving, like how you always did when I had a visit at the clinic, like how I watched you treat all of the animals you took care of…”

Voice trailing off at the feel of his teeth nipping into the skin of your clavicle, you all but shuddered against him. The front of him was pressed so close to you, you could practically feel the growing bulge in his pants.

He laved his tongue over the spot that he had bitten down on, kissing the slight sting away, before continuing, “Go on, darling…”

The pet name was entirely something new. And if he didn’t have a firm hold over your entire being right then, you were sure that you’d have fallen right to the ground in shock.

Because Lee Minho…

Calling you darling-

And the worst part about it was that you knew it was only the beginning.

“I’d touch myself, late at night, after a long work day… envisioning that it was you doing such sinful things to me,” you muttered between clenched teeth, as his lips continued to trace a burning path down the part of your chest that was exposed from your shawl. “I’d imagine that it was you- fingers deep inside of me, lips sucking me dry, hands grabbing onto me, hips thrusting into mine so flawlessly.”

This time, it was Minho who jerked against you. He backed away just slightly from your neck, offering you a dimly lit smirk. “I swear- you will truly be the death of me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart,

Sweetheart.

It all sounded so wonderful coming from him - like an ancient, foreign prayer fallen from the lips of a beautiful, innocent angel. Expect the position the two of you were in - and the way his mouth trailed over your skin - was anything but innocent.

You reached out, tracing a careful index finger down the center of his chest. Touching the one thing you had been focusing on all night long. Finally coming in contact with that bare flesh, that had been exposed for so many hours. “And what about you?” You questioned, peering up into his dark, blown-out pupils. They were darting across your face. Almost like, he had to capture this exact moment in his memory forever, lest he forgets it in his old age. “Did you ever think about me?”

“Fuck- every single minute of every single day, pretty,” that caused your tracing of his chest to halt, as your heart tripped over itself in surprise. In the back of your mind, you felt the hands that had been resting on either of your hips for so long migrate behind you, fingers grabbing palmfuls of your ass. “I thought about you as soon as I woke up, all day when I was at work, and especially- when I was home alone at the end of the day.”

Your nails raked down his exposed pecs, playing with the tiny silver zipper that was almost completely at his waist. “Really?” You flashed him a soft grin, as you leaned up and pressed a few kisses against the corner of his mouth. “What did you imagine in such moments?”

He turned his head then, pressing his lips against yours in a full kiss that soon turned breathless, his tongue slipping past your teeth and tasting you ardently. “I envisioned you in so many different filthy ways- beneath me, mouth hanging open as you screamed out my name in ecstasy, perfect fucking tits bouncing with every movement, legs coming around me every time I pounded into you so good.”

You clutched at his forearms then, moaning into his mouth and melting into all of the kisses and caresses that felt straight from heaven. “Please, Minho-”

Minho grabbed at your ass a little firmer at the words that spilled from you.

Because finally-

Finally, you were calling him by his name.

And it felt fucking good.

So good, that you almost felt addicted to it. You liked the way it curled around in your mind, falling from your mouth and sweetening your tongue all at once.

“If you do that again, I won’t be able to stop myself.” He mumbled against your mouth, breathing in your scent and screwing his eyes shut in anguish.

“And what if I don’t want you to stop?”

Your confession came out hushed, something only meant to be kept between the two of you.

And all at once, you watched the emotions shift rather effortlessly in him - going from barely restrained passion to an outburst of ravenous hunger. His hands were clutching onto you harder and then he was hoisting you up into the air before you could even comprehend what was happening. Heart beating painfully inside your chest, you clutched at his neck and held on tight. Not a word was passed between the two of you as he moved with swift legs.

In but a few mere blinks, he had you in what you assumed was his bedroom. It was decorated simply, just like the rest of his house was. Then he was practically throwing you onto the bed, staring down at your barely clad form from the edge of the mattress.

“Take off the shawl. I want to see you.” He demanded in a steely voice. The one he had used earlier that night when he had been frustrated with everything during the party.

But he wasn’t frustrated now, and you came to realize that the steeliness had always been from... arousal.

When Lee Minho was fucked over with want, he turned cold and spoke with chilled venom in his words.

And that realization just made the pool of wetness between your thighs gather at a faster rate than ever before.

Without a word of protest, you stripped yourself of the shawl, showing off the rest of you that had been covered up all night. Revealing the way that the neckline of your mini dress scooped so low, it showed more than half of your tits.

“Fuck,” he grunted out, running a frantic hand through his hair. He couldn’t take his eyes off of your chest, staring twin holes into the way your dress teased at the full exposure of your bosom. “I’m suddenly so glad that you never took that off- the guys would’ve surely gone crazy over you before I had any fucking chance.”

“That’s why I wore it in the first place,” you moved the thin shawl away, throwing it across the bed as your focus never strayed from his face. From the way that he fully took you in, eyes ravenous with so much love and lust. You felt your chest rise and fall with your short breaths, air constricting between your lungs as you tried to breathe through the arousal that was clawing up your throat in the form of an unchecked moan. “And besides, I never would’ve let any of them touch me even if I had taken it off during the party… I only wanted you to see this part of me. Only you get a taste of my most-sacred parts.”

Minho tilted his head to the side then, bearing his teeth in an ominous grin.

It seemed like a wicked thought crossed his mind.

A shrewd and cruel one, but if the cruelty entailed him using you as his very own plaything, you were more than willing to give in to his cruelty.

The look of him- standing there, lording over you at the edge of the bed, so close, yet so far all at once, forced a shiver to run down the length of your spine.

“Dress off, now.”

Just by the tonal shift, you could tell that his patience was wearing thin. He had been suppressing his desires for so very long, that he evidently couldn’t handle wasting another minute of not doing anything about his… predicament. It was as clear as day by the front of him, and the view of the hardening tent in the middle of his black trousers caused your stomach to flip over in a twirl of summersaults.

You shucked your dress off in one fluid movement, laying back on one of the downy pillows in nothing but your lingerie set, which was designed in a simple nude lace. Minho audibly swallowed, examining you with those fire-lit eyes, a set jaw, and pursed, puffy lips.

“Is this good enough for you?” You asked, fingers rising to twirl a lock of your hair between your fingers. Your legs were splayed out in a straight line before you, not giving away anything before he made his next move. Taunting him, in the best way you knew possible. By not revealing yourself.

Without another word, Minho was slinking away from the bed. Your eyes tracked his form, as he took a seat in the nearby armchair. It was placed off to the right of the bed, close enough that you were only a few steps away. The moonlight that shone through the curtained window cast across his form, painting his shoulders and cheekbones in a ghostly kind of glow.

He leaned back in the plush cushions, folding his arms across his chest and leveling you with that sly smirk of his that you had never seen before. Not once, had he ever used it on you during your visits to the clinic. And not once, did it ever appear when he was dealing with others.

But all at once, it seemed so familiar to you.

Like you had lived your entire life acknowledging it,

Recognizing it,

And becoming roused by it.

“Show me.”

His words didn’t come out as demanding as before. Rather, they were grave and wavering. But they left an even bigger impact than the former.

Because in using such a soft, saccharine tone on you, he was demonstrating how he already knew you.

Knew you so well, like the back of his hand.

And how you absolutely melted whenever he’d speak to you in such a way-

Whether it had been at the clinic, during a visit,

Or when the two of you were on a late-night phone call before Nyx had passed,

Even when you guys had chatted together in the front office the night you had rushed over in a bumbling panic.

So no, he didn’t have to use strong words on you. Didn’t have to speak to you harshly, or demand anything.

Because you were already his.

From the very beginning, you had always been his.

The exact day the two of you met, all those years ago, during your first visit to the clinic, the two of you had known - whether subconsciously or consciously.

That there would be no one else.

So he regarded you with that same gentleness, eyes softening your way and limbs fluid as he sat there. He canted his head to the side, awaiting your next move.

He didn’t press, he didn’t rush, he didn’t do… anything. Just stayed silent, wondering how you would react to his words.

You felt the warmth of a flush creeping up the length of your neck, and you captured your bottom lip between your teeth as you tried to make sense of what he had just said. “W-What?” You didn’t mean to stutter. No, you meant to seem strong and in control. But then he was talking to you so smoothly, studying you with those deep brown eyes so lovingly, and you were a goner. A fumbling, stuttering goner.

“You said you like to touch yourself to the thought of me, so show me,” he said, raising an eyebrow your way from your obliviousness. But then the words hit the forefront of your mind, and it felt like your cheeks were on fire from how furiously you blushed. The heat pooling in the pit of your stomach shot down the middle of your body, swirling in your core and lighting the blood in your veins in a frantic kind of way. “Show me what you do to yourself when you’re all alone… show me how you touch yourself, while you have me infecting your mind.”

“I-I can’t.” You suddenly blurted out, heart pounding in your chest, as the butterflies danced a wild routine in the very depths of your soul.

That same smirk was pulling at the corners of his lips again, at your embarrassed state. “And why is that, darling?”

“B-Because…” Your voice trailed off, as your fingers played with a loose piece of string that you found in the bed’s thick duvet comforter. “I… the things I did, during those times, are hardly appropriate.”

Minho’s maniacal laugh, which was high-pitched and unruly, forced your eyes to shoot up at him. His irises were a little darker than before, but he still had that delicate look on his face. As if Everything you were saying sounded pleasant to him and this was all just a fun game to him.

“What’s so funny?” A cold sweat broke out across your brow, as you watched him regard you with mirth. You found yourself frowning at the outward display of humor.

Minho’s eyes raked down the length of your then, catching on the way that your bosom rose up and down with your hasty breaths. His lips parted slightly like he wanted nothing more but to come over to the bed and have a feel of them for himself. But then he was focusing back on your stare, offering you that easy, swoon-worthy smile of his. “I just find it hilarious, how you’re worried about propriety when you’re literally sitting there half-naked and I’m sitting here with a raging boner.”

At the mention of his hardness, you swallowed down a groan of agony. Because truly, you wanted nothing more but to see him - touch him, in so many different places. But he still had on those damn cargo pants and that damn shirt with the zipper on it. The thing was pulled so low that his stiff pecs peeked out every time he moved.

A beat of silence encased the room,

Trapping the tenseness between you,

Wrapping around the two of you and squeezing the very life out of your body.

And just like that, you found your hands moving on their own. Involuntarily, without any more arguing. Without any more talking. Without any more coaxing from him.

Because none of it was needed.

All he needed to do was speak - let the remarks flow from those beautiful, perfectly-sculpted lips, and you were heeding to his every demand.

Hell, if Minho asked you to kill for him, you’d probably do it.

If it meant having him flash you that easy smile, with those brilliant, pearly-white teeth,

If it meant having his chestnut-brown irises catch on your form every time you so little as breathed,

If it meant having those big, veiny arms holding you down, hands adoring you so wonderfully,

Then fuck yeah- you sure would kill for him.

To be continued...

🐈‍⬛ taglist: want to be added onto my taglist? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can send me a msg and request to be added~

🌾 tags: @sleepyleeji :: @if-spearb :: @hyunes4ngel :: @drhsthl :: @seosalad :: @toomuchtellyneck :: @endzii23 :: @smally97 :: @ana-marais98 :: @sherryblossom :: @priincehoseok :: @biribarabiribbaem :: @linovely :: @lolqxv :: @linonyang :: @morningstardada :: @taeriffic :: @day6andetcetera :: @hyuka-luvbot :: @linohumina :: @urmomma0324 :: @poisonivy2 :: @/leyknxw a yellow tag means that there was an error in tagging you.

©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

250 notes · View notes

prismatic-bell · 1 year

Text

SO YOU WANT TO HELP THE RAILWAY WORKERS: A CHECKLIST

If you don't know what I'm talking about, here's a news article.

This is a shitty, shitty situation, and unfortunately we're in a position where all we can do is make it less shitty. BUT. WE HAVE THE POWER TO DO THAT.

Grab that phone and your unlimited data plan, because we're about to flood some phone lines, babes. Start by texting "Sign PZPAKG" to 50409 to sign the action letter written by Resistbot. Once you've done that, reblog this post (if I see more likes than reblogs on this post I'm gonna shit lead) because there are links in here and Tumblr search will eat it, and this will only work if we get a ton of eyeballs on it.

First, you'll want this link, which lists all 100 State Senators. (If you live in Massachussetts or Rhode Island, skip down to "Ready to do more?" Don't call your Senators yet.) Yes, I'm aware this webpage looks like it was made in 2006, I'm extremely sorry (your tax dollars at work), but you do what you gotta. You're going to start by looking up the Senators from your state. This site will direct you to their official webpages. Look for "locations," not "contact," because most of them use email contact forms as a first line of contact these days. You want phone numbers. You should find at least two--one in Washington, DC and one in your state's capitol. (Some may have more than one in-state. I know here in AZ Kelly and Sinema have both a Phoenix and Tucscon office, and Kelly also has one on the Navajo Nation.)

Pick one, it doesn't matter which. Call it. You may get either a staffer or a voicemail. (If it's voicemail, listen carefully to the prompts. If it says voicemail is full, go back and try the other phone number.) Staffers are pretty friendly, but can occasionally seem a little disconnected or brusque. If that's the case, it is not you--your call's probably been routed through a switchboard and they're experiencing lag. Don't worry about it, just say your bit.

HERE IS THE SCRIPT I USED THIS MORNING: "My name is [legal name] and I'm a constituent of Senator [name]'s from [my town]. I'm calling in support of the railway unions in light of this frankly extremely bad deal they're being asked to accept. If railway workers are so important to our economy that Congress can get involved, then they're important enough to deserve paid sick time. I'd like to encourage the Senator to vote NO on any bill that doesn't provide railway union workers with at least seven days of paid sick time."

Total time elapsed for me doing this: about five minutes.

OKAY. READY TO DO MORE? Some Senators have already signed an open letter saying they're in support of providing sick time to railway union members. Those Senators are Bernie Sanders from Vermont, Kirsten Gillibrand from New York, Tammy Baldwin from Wisconsin, Cory Booker from New Jersey, Sherrod Brown from Ohio, Ed Markey and Elizabeth Warren from Massachusetts, Jeff Merkley from Oregon, Alex Padilla from Callifornia, and Jack Reed and Sheldon Whitehouse from Rhode Island. Give them a call next. HERE'S THE SCRIPT I'VE BEEN USING: "My name is [legal name]. I'm actually an Arizona resident, but I wanted to thank Senator [name] for supporting sick time for railway union members. I was really disappointed to hear President Biden basically decided to get involved in union-busting and I'm glad to hear the Senator is on labor's side. Please encourage them to stay the course and get that sick leave pushed through." If you're from Massachusetts or Rhode Island, feel free to say something about how you're glad your state is standing up for labor when you're calling your own Senators on that list. You can say that to any Senator on this list if they happen to be yours, obviously, it's just definitely got even more of an impact if you're already a constituent.

OKAY. WANT TO KEEP GOING?

I've got one more assignment for you. This is the list of committee members for the Committee on Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions. There are ten of them and some of them overlap with phone calls you've already made, so you're almost done. If you look at the script below and then look at the committee members and go "you think Republicans give a shit about this?," I am begging you to at least call Lisa Murkowski and Mitt Romney. Yes, the majority of the Republican Party is a nuclear trashfire. Yes, they're Republicans. But if you said "Nina, you have to go to dinner with six Senate members and three of them have to be Republicans," my picks would be Murkowski, Romney, and Liz Cheney. We might actually be able to make a dent in Murkowski and Romney if we try hard enough, and yes, "try" is important here. Fuck Yoda and his do-or-do-not bullshit, if activists in this country only went for sure things we'd still have chattel slavery and no votes for women. YOU GOTTA GET UP AND TRY.

SO HERE'S YOUR SCRIPT FOR THE COMMITTEE MEMBERS.

"My name is [name]. I'm calling because Senator [name] is a member of the Committee on Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions. I'd like to encourage him/her as a Committee member to lead by example in this current situation with the railway unions, and vote NO on any bill that does not provide railway workers with at least seven days of paid sick leave. I'm sure Senator [name]'s position on this committee has given them plenty of examples to know a healthy and organized labor force is far better for our economy than a sick and demoralized one."

GO BLOW UP THE PHONE LINES LIKE YOU'RE GUY FAWKES UNDER PARLIAMENT. The railway workers have had our backs all through Covid. It's high time we had theirs.

#politics #direct action #grassroots #unions #this is what all those words mean by the way

426 notes · View notes

incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 7 months

Text

Spoiling You With All My Might -- Comte Collection Story Translation

I've been meaning to post this one for a while, as it's honestly in my top ten Comte events of all time. For this Collection story event, it was basically all the suitors comforting MC when she's stressed/tired/overworked. And lbr, who doesn't need that in their life?

Enjoy everyone, and just a reminder that I'm no professional--I just translate these for my own enjoyment. Without further ado:

In the early afternoon, when the hands on the clock are pointing to 3pm-- I was alone drinking tea in a quiet kitchen. (I’ve been busy lately…I think I’m a little burnt out.) My cup of tea was already empty, but somehow I didn’t have the energy to stand up-- Comte: MC, are you taking a break? Turning around revealed Comte standing in the middle of the doorway.

Okay but like. I gotta say just the thought of him peeking around the corner is killing me, he's the cutest man alive I swear

But also. Now I'm wondering if he's lowkey like IS IT MEOW MEOW TIME? MEOW MEOW T I M E!!!!!! pounces on the opportunity for quality time. Somehow that's even more adorable I'm going to explode from uwus

MC: Indeed I am. Would you like to have some tea, too? Comte: That’s an attractive invitation, but if you don’t mind, would you spend some time with me for a little while after this? MC: Go out with you…? Comte: I’m thinking of going for a walk. Would you like to join me? His hand was outstretched in a gentlemanly gesture that touched/eased my heart. MC: Haha, I’d love to.

I laughed a little at this because I'm definitely the kind of person that's like "omg pls, you are not beating the silly goose allegations!!!" over him being all suave over a walk together but. At the same time. HEART EYES M-- King of romantics everywhere. Gentleman of my heart. Mellifluous seducer have MERCY

More under the cut!

Comte’s escort led me to a forest a short walking distance from the mansion. As I walk alongside him, the sunbeams penetrate through the trees as they sway with the breeze. Comte: The weather is lovely today, making it a perfect occasion for a walk. MC: You’re right…the wind feels nice, too. As I walked slowly listening to the rustling trees, I could feel the fatigue/tension draining out of me little by little. (It feels like my heart is being cleansed. It’s so soothing…) Comte: … It was then that I noticed Comte gazing at me calmly.

As somebody who used to be plus ultra literally every minute of my life, this made me so softe inside. The way he cares so much about her ;-; he really said "I will die before I disrespect a girlboss, but also. I am here. For to help PLS. Also a crumb of attention...p l swleseskje...."

(Ah…by any chance) MC: Comte Comte: Yes? MC: …You invited me out for a change of pace, didn’t you? Comte smiled softly at my words. Comte: I just wanted to take a walk with you like this.

I do love how, especially in recent events, MC notices his gestures more and more 🥺💛💛💛💛💛💛 I think it's really cute that he wants to be sneaky sweet and supportive, and whenever she realizes it he's like. C'est moi? You're not fooling anyone pretty boy!!! I know you have brain cells up there!!! But also the sincerity in that last line, of how he really does also just want to spend some time with her. How he's always saying the most wonderful thing she can give him is her time.

Just put my body out to sea I can't do this anymore--

I was enveloped in the sound of his voice, warming my heart, and my feet stopped involuntarily. Comte: MC? MC: Every time you treat me so kindly like this…I’m so happy I could cry Jokingly, Comte turned around and spread his coat. Comte: If you want to do so, that’s okay too MC: Huh… Comte: After all, there is no one here but us. If you want to cry, you can cry. Comte wrapped me gently in his open coat and murmured in my ear. Comte: Like this, there will be no trace of tears left behind. MC: Oh… (It’s okay to cry…that’s not something you hear very often when you’re fully grown.) (Just hearing him say that in such a sweet voice makes my heart feel lighter…) (Comte really is amazing)

Honestly this part just made me melt, I have no words--I'm down bad fellas. We love a man who encourages his partner that its safe to be vulnerable 😭🙏🏼

But also I feel the need to say. Comte don't offer this to me because from that point on I will live in your coat. It will no longer be 'Comte's nice coat,' but rather:

MC: Thank you. But…Aren’t you spoiling me too much? When I looked up and asked him, he leaned over to drop a kiss to my forehead… MC: Oh… Comte: I see. I think I don’t spoil you enough. Comte’s long fingers reached out to wipe my eyes gently. Comte: MC, I love everything about you. Comte: Your fatigue and your tears, don’t forget that it’s my privilege to soothe them with these hands. He gazes deeply into my eyes, and I can’t help how my heart races in response.

So like. Do you ever just cry and die. Because.

I'm like somewhere between "WE GOT A 2319!!!!!!!!!" and inches from professing my eternal love and loyalty like some kind of lovelorn knight too afraid to even touch the radiance of their beloved. Comte how on earth am I supposed to look at you without being blinded. Sun that's too bright!!!!! That's too b r i g h t!

I just. "Your fatigue and your tears, don’t forget that it’s my privilege to soothe them with these hands." [muffled wailing noises] Did I ASK--

Mfer out here like 'oh the terrible fate of being tied to me for eternity' meanwhile every second of being with him is either dizzyingly passionate or like being wrapped up in the warmest, fluffiest blankie imaginable. I HAVE TO S T A N SIR--

MC: Ah, if you spoil me so much, I’m afraid I won’t be able to do anything on my own anymore. Comte smiled a little as I laughed deceptively in the hopes of hiding how delighted I was. Comte: That’s great. I’d love to see that, myself. The fingers that had been stroking my eyes slipped down my cheek to touch my lips. Comte: If you can’t manage to walk alone--I’ll be there to hold you up, and walk alongside you. His sweet whisper ends when his lips gently cover mine. MC: Mn… In the midst of his enveloping kiss, I gently entrusted my body to the person dearest to me--

Can I just ?????? Say????? How much I love MC being teasing/catty with him as the events go on. I LOVE it here. I think I really like how she grows into her own strength, and how she feels comfortable expressing her shyness without ceding that integrity. One thing I've noticed that I love in relationships is this ability to air grievances in a playful way, where the stakes are low--but the person can still express their feelings and be comforted. I think I like how it's not about putting pressure on the person, but getting it out in the open and resolved all the same. It just fills me with warm fuzzies c:

Also. "If you can’t manage to walk alone--I’ll be there to hold you up, and walk alongside you." Like not to beat a dead horse, but wow. Pretty sure this metaphysically changed me as a person. Thanks, I will never be the same. True love exists, [unhinged barking noises], etc etc

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp mc #i am So Normal About Him i promise (egregious lie)#no i do not have a dragon's hoard worth of transcribed stories #look a w a y #but fr this one really just ended my life #i'm so so so weak to the idea of a couple as two people supporting each other through good and bad #like i know that's the foundational operating precept of the thing but #nothing will ever ruin me the way comte does when he gets Ride Or Die #honestly all i think of when i see comte and mc tg is that one meme of like #team/couple be like: 'fk it we ball (tank)' and 'but did you die? (healer)'#not incorrect quotes #comte propaganda #fangdad propaganda #baguettosaurus

65 notes · View notes

facingthenorthwind · 7 months

Text

So while reading Halo Effect, I naturally became obsessed with the one (1) Jewish character who turns up twice, one as a brief mention and one to write a single letter. Because I am extremely normal, I am writing a fic about him. Technically I've only written the first half (the second half is Peter and Thomas meeting up with him), but it's self-contained. It's been written for literal years, so I figure I should at least post it on tumblr. I hope you enjoy it, @alex51324!! (Also I haven't Yiddishised the Hebrew yet because I only know the standard pronunciation but I'm going to get someone to do it before I post it on AO3.) Hopefully this is comprehensible to non-Jews?? Please let me know if not.

Is it breaking a mitzvah if I say mourner's kaddish for someone who might not be mourned otherwise without a minyan? At most, there's a Green who has a J on his identity disc on one of the wards, but he's currently on so much morphine I don't think he'd remember the words, Issac wrote to his father once he finally got back to his unit. Honestly, he didn't much care what his father wrote back — if God didn't like him saying kaddish for Fitz, God could come down here and tell him what alternative he had. He asked his father to send a candle so he could light it for Fitz, but crossed it out and asked him for ten candles. Fitz may have been the first, but he sure as hell wouldn't be the last.

The news of Fitz’s death had preceded Issac’s return, but nobody had touched Fitz’s belongings yet. Cruelly, the most essential things, the things that meant most to him, had gone down with him, but Rouse eventually laid out everything that was in Fitz’s rucksack so they could decide what they should send back to his family — well, his brother. Fitz had said he didn’t have any other family left.

They decided they’d split his cigarettes between them — Scogs tried to crack a joke about how Fitz had always been so free with his cigarettes it was almost like he wasn’t gone, but he trailed off, and no one laughed. His large collection of letters went in his rucksack, of course (he seemed to get them constantly, all from different people; sometimes he had even acted as some kind of go-between, passing on information from one letter-writer to another, as if they couldn’t just write to each other themselves). The scarf he’d worn every day from Christmas until mid-April, when even he couldn’t deny it was too hot, went in as well — Issac had always thought privately that it was fairly ugly, but then again, if he tried to knit a scarf it would probably turn out much the same.

Dawson got Fitz’s copy of Prester John out of his own pack and removed his bookmark before handing it over to Rouse. “He’s made some little notes in it,” he said. “Nothing all that interesting yet as I can see, but it doesn’t feel right to keep it.”

Rouse packed it and Scogs didn’t mention that he had been next in line to read it. One of them could write home to get another copy, probably. Issac was sure he could — he had already received several yellowbacks which he’d left in the break room once everyone had read them so they could find a new home. Fitz’s sewing kit, playing cards and the various other things he’d been sent went on top and by the time they were done there was an all-too-noticeable hole where Fitz had once slept.

It was only then that Issac noticed Rouse had gained corporal’s stripes. It made sense — Fitz needed replacing and Rouse was an obvious choice, being the smartest of the lot of them. He congratulated him, but Rouse wasn’t offended that he didn’t quite hit the right tone and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Rouse’s didn’t, either.

When he arrived at the wards for his next shift, Captain Russell clapped him on the shoulder and gave him an extra ration of brandy. And then they just had to get on with it.

------

Fitz’s brother never replied to the letter he sent, so Issac kept saying kaddish for him past the thirty days that were traditional. He knew there were lots of reasons he might not have written — maybe it got lost, or he didn’t want to hear from Issac, or any number of perfectly innocent explanations, but as Issac watched men die day after day he couldn’t stop thinking about how if Fitz’s brother was dead, there was no one to remember Fitz as family.

He said it for eleven months, as he would for a brother — four months longer than he’d known him. About six months in, Rouse wrote to him saying that he’d been stationed with Fitz’s brother at a CCS. He was a corporal, apparently, and Rouse said he reminded him of Fitz — that they said some of the same things, though in temperament they were pretty different. The war dragged on.

He kept a list of people in his units who died as he transferred from place to place, but it quickly became clear that he couldn't light a candle for each of them. The list just kept going, a litany of names followed by the date of their death in the Gregorian and Hebrew calendars. Jerry Scoggins, 30 September 1915/22 Tishrei 5676. Billy Dawson, 2 October 1915/25 Tishrei 5676. Fred Keighery, 4 February 1916/30 Shevat 5676... It felt like keeping track of their yahrzeits was more of a motivation to note the Hebrew date than keeping the holidays, since it wasn’t like he could, not really. Even as he tried to pray every day for whatever service he had free, the words of the festival services just made him homesick, and he didn’t have any of the things you should have: matzah or his mother’s blintzes or a lulav.

He wrote to Moishe about studying the RAMC periodicals at Shavuot instead of Torah; it felt... oddly fitting. He knew, logically, that this war was man's fault and God didn't have anything to do with it, but that didn't provide any comfort when he was on death watch, sitting beside a man who gasped as he drowned on dry land. If the only control he had in this hell was giving two fingers to God, then he was going to take it.

His father sent him a machzor so he could pray Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, but he got to Unetaneh Tokef and didn't even have the energy to be embarrassed when someone found him crying ten minutes later. Reciting the ways people would die in the coming year — who by water, who by fire, who by sword and who by wild beast — felt absurd when he could list just as many from who was on the wards. Who by phosgene, who by sepsis, who by bullets? And for the machzor to claim that repentance, prayer and righteousness averted the severity of the decree — that sure hadn’t fucking worked for the soldiers getting killed. It hadn’t worked for Fitz or Scoggins or Keighery or—

By the end of 1917 he could no longer go over the top, having lost his hearing in his left ear from a shell exploding too close. The letters he received detailing how his nephew he’d never met could talk in whole sentences now and how Mr Rabinowitz had fallen and broken his leg felt like missives from a world he would never return to again; how could he, when all he knew was the war?

The Armistice meant the supply of wounded slowed, but he didn’t go home — he was stationed at a general hospital, so there were still plenty of cases coming through. Even when they offered to send him home because he wasn’t regular army and they were well aware that the other corps had mostly got the wartime recruits out… he knew it was cowardly, but he accepted the offer to stay on until the RAMC left France. He couldn’t picture how he was going to fit back into the Leylands, and perhaps if he put it off long enough he’d finally work it out.

He did not.

When he finally got off the train at Leeds, it felt a little like a fairytale — he kept being shocked that he could recognise the buildings as the train came in, and it sounded the same as it had before the war. The back of his throat began to ache, though he wasn’t sure why, but before he could focus on that his mother was calling his name and hugging him. Had she been there the whole time? She gave him a kiss on the cheek and led him to everyone else — there was Shoshie, who grinned at him and then prompted the child hiding behind her legs to greet his Feter Itzik. While the nephew he’d never met hid his face in her skirt, his father embraced him with a decidedly gruff, “Son.”

And at last there was Moishe, his smile twisted by the scarring on his face. He looked like he understood the slight bewilderment that must have shown on his face. “Glad they let you go eventually,” he said, slapping him on the back. He spoke into his right ear, probably noticing that Issac had turned so he could hear the people in front of him more clearly with it.

“Yeah,” Issac said, not trusting himself to say anything else lest he start crying.

“See, he’s not scary, Dovid,” Shoshie said, having coaxed his nephew out in front of her. “Say hello.”

“Hello Feter,” he said at last. “Why don’t you have a face like Feter Moishe?”

“Dovid!” Shoshie said.

Moishe shot Issac a grin. For the first time in too long, Issac laughed.

#emma writes things #halo effect #alex51324

58 notes · View notes

aspecriddler · 11 months

Text

THEE Guide to Not Being a Punk Poser

Hey, so if you're reading this, you may or may not be looking to get into the punk scene, and you also may or may not be at a total loss on where to start

Well fear not! I am here with this little introduction post on how to Not Be A Poser (title pending)

FIRST UP: The Ideals

When it comes to the ideals of alternative subcultures, this graphic by @theygender (hope the tag is ok, lmk if it isn't) is the best summary I've ever seen

And if you're like me, you're solidly on the line between punk and grunge, but leaning just a bit more punk. This is fine /gen

Punk is about community. Punk is about fighting for a better future. Punk is about doing no harm and taking no shit. Punk is about looking out for the underdog. If you don't embody these values then you're not punk. The ideology of Punk is, in my opinion, the most important part of the subculture

But if you've been doing your research you already knew that. Now let's get into what a lot of people call the fun stuff: the music and the fashion

SECOND: The Music

There are a Lot of different subgenres of punk music, the most famous being punk rock and folk punk. I subscribe more to punk rock because I really enjoy fast music

Bands to look for include: Sex Pistols, Dead Kennedys, Pansy Division, Dog Park Dissidents, Cheap Perfume, Mommy Long Legs, Gang Green, The Germs, Rage Against the Machine, G.L.O.S.S., X-Ray Spex, The Cramps, Circle Jerks, Crass, Limp Wrist, and Pure Hell

Of course there's a lot more but those are some staples plus some of my personal favorites. You can find my personal punk playlist here

Overall the sound is Loud and it is Angry. There are many songs about killing cops and hating capitalism and it fucks. If you like funky basslines, sick ass drums, angry yelling, and shredding guitars this music is for you

PART THREE: The Fashion

Okay, okay, I had to save the quote unquote best for last. Imo the fashion of punk is the most diy out of almost any other subculture

Literally anything you can get your hands on can become fashion. Steal what you can, pick up shit off the side of the road, and if you can't/don't know how to do something get a friend in the scene to either teach you or commission them or something

Brands? The fuck is that, the only brands you need to know are Rit fabric dye, goodwill, etsy (sometimes), your local craft store, and a good spike maker (I don't deal with spikes currently so I have no good resources for them, so other punks feel free to chime in!)

Want cool metal shit? Take apart cans and turn them into spikes. Take a lighter apart and use those metal bits. Steal safety pins from walmart.

Want/need to sew something? Yarn and a tapestry needle if you can't get/don't want to use dental floss. When sewing patches do a straight stitch around followed by a hobo stitch around again and that shit will stay forever. Alternatively pin patches on with safety pins, this works pretty well in a pinch

Fabric paint is your best friend!!! Start with a white base layer and the colors will be much more vibrant. Don't think you have painting skills? Doesn't matter, you're punk and you have the audacity to wear whatever you make with pride

Invest in a leather jacket. I don't mean in terms of money, I got mine at goodwill for ten bucks. But it will change your life. I recommend getting two: one to keep plain and one to diy. Also flannels are good for diy and can also be made into vests for warm weather very easily.

Both of these flannels I decorated myself in a matter of hours. If I can do it, so can you

Also! When you cut the sleeves off of a flannel you can use the extra fabric to make diy pockets :3

PART FOUR: Community and Conclusion

So this is kind of my close out section lol

I'm not sure what kind of discord communities exist for true punk culture, so if anyone has one they wanna promote feel free

Do some research on local punk bands in your area, get your friends together and diy outfits for a concert, or just to wear. The world is your punk oyster, and as long as you or other people aren't getting hurt you can do whatever you want forever

Plz use this post to find other punks so we can start gaining more community (I'm totally not desperate lol)

#punk

105 notes · View notes

queenofhyruleee · 11 months

Text

Link/Reader Story

I tried to write a one-shot today but got carried away and ended up with the first chapter of a short story. I've never posted on Tumblr before but hey, there's a first time for everything, right?

Summary: After being shrouded in Twilight and tormented by monsters for so long, Hyrule is finally recovering and returning to normal. And what's more normal than a shitty relationship? You're a potions-maker's apprentice who is dating someone who is... less than ideal. While you're struggling to navigate your deteriorating relationship and dwindling self-confidence, your good friend Link is determined to help you see that you deserve better.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, and as it fell so did your spirits. You sighed, dropping your chin into the palm of your hand. He probably wouldn’t show.

Again.

You decided that you were only going to wait for another ten minutes before calling it a night and going home. Frustration bubbled in your stomach, and as the minutes passed you found yourself fighting back tears of frustration.

Why hadn’t he come? Why does he keep doing this?

You had been romantically involved with Elis for the better part of a year. It had started off strong and sweet, with him dropping by the potions shop where you worked nearly daily with some sort of sweet treat or pastry. Eventually, those days came fewer and farther between, but you hadn’t thought much about it because it made sense that maybe the excitement of the new relationship was wearing down. You weren’t worried because he still treated you with kindness and was happy to spend the weekends wandering around Castle Town or down by the lake. But recently, it was as if you didn’t exist. He hardly made time for you anymore, and when he did he didn’t even show half the time, later claiming some issue or another had come up suddenly.

Like he would probably do again after today.

Through the tavern window, you watched as crowds strolled past, chatting animatedly and munching on various foods that were being sold in the different stalls that currently lined the roads of Castle Town. Today was the Autumn Festival - the first one since the strange monsters had been eradicated and Princess Zelda restored her rightful place on the throne. The entirety of Hyrule was celebrating not only the beginning of a new Autumn, but its freedom as well.

Yet despite all of the happiness and celebration, you felt as lonely and dark as ever.

Sighing again, you decided you had spent enough time looking pathetic alone at the table, looking up hopefully at the door anytime you heard it open. Standing up, you caught the attention of the barkeep, Telma.

“Headed out?” She asked, a knowing look in her eye. You nodded as you walked up to the bar, digging around in your satchel to try and find your wallet. Telma reached across the bar, resting her hand in front of you and making you pause. “No need, hon. This one’s on the house.”

You looked up at her, eyes wide. “No Telma, I-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said, waving her hand in the air. “It’s the Autumn Festival today, and everyone deserves to have something nice done for ‘em.”

Your look of protest melted into one of gratefulness. You smiled at the older woman, feeling appreciative that at least someone cared enough to be kind to you today.

“You know, speaking of which..” Her tone had changed to one a bit darker. She grabbed a dirty cup from the pile at her side and began to clean it with a rag she held in her other hand. “This is the third time in a month I’ve seen you sitting there all alone for a few hours, looking more anxious than a man whose girlfriend just told him she missed her monthly bleed. Wanna tell me anything about that?” Her eyes bore into yours, waiting for an answer you had a feeling she already knew.

She was aware that you and Elis were together, and she expressed from the beginning that she wasn’t entirely happy about the fact. Telma was one of the first people you met when you moved to Castle Town from your family’s farm just outside of Kakiriko Village. She immediately took you under her wing and helped you adjust to and navigate the fast-paced life of the city. Even though you were there as a potions-makers apprentice which gave you housing and meals, she still insisted on doting on you and taking care of you as if you had nothing. And in a way, you had had nothing. You were forever grateful for her kindness, her hospitality, and her unwavering friendship. You knew that she cared about you more than maybe even your own family, so you absolutely hated the feeling of knowing you were disappointing her.

Elis was the son of one of the richest businessmen in Castle Town, and maybe even Hyrule. And he… did not have the best reputation. You of course had no way of knowing that being new to the area and all but Telma, as the owner of the most popular bar in the city, was privy to all of the hot gossip and drama. And apparently his name was one that came up with the patrons of her bar. A lot.

When you first caught Elis’ eye, and Telma started to catch on to what was happening, she had given you a warning.

“Now I’m not your mother, so I’m not here to tell you what you can and can’t do, or who you can and can’t do. But honey.. I’d think twice before you get involved with him.”

Of course you had thanked her for her concern and promised it wasn’t that serious, but now you were regretting not asking more questions. You had fallen in way too deep and before you realized it, you were telling yourself you were different from the other people he had been with. You would change him. Surely you wouldn’t be one of those bitter ex-lovers, drunkenly rambling on to anyone who would listen about how awful he was to you.

Well, you hadn’t made it to the drunken rambling part quite yet, but you were certainly starting to catch on that maybe you wouldn’t be the one to change him after all.

Telma continued to look at you expectantly, waiting for any kind of answer to her question. You averted your eyes, knowing you wouldn’t be able to lie if you had to look at her face.

“No, everything is fine. I just have been feeling a bit suffocated at the shop lately. So I’ve been coming here to get some time alone.” Now that the lie was out, you met her eyes again and gave her a very non-convincing smile.

Telma raised her eyebrows and gave you a very deadpan look to show you that she did not believe you in the slightest. You were certain that she was going to keep pressing for the truth, but much to your relief she instead just gave a resigned sigh and shook her head.

“It’s just hard to watch you settle for this when we both know you don’t have to.”

“It’s fine, really!” You tried to sound upbeat. “He’s just been super busy lately, and things keep coming up.”

Telma rolled her eyes as she grabbed another cup and began to scrub. “‘Things keep coming up’ my ass,” she muttered. Then louder, “You actually believe him when he says that?”

You bit your lip, knowing it wasn’t even worth the effort of trying to lie. So you remained silent instead, which was answer enough for your friend.

“You deserve better than this, sweetie. You really do.” She cocked her eyebrows, and a small smirk suddenly replaced her annoyed grimace. “You know, you deserve something like a knight in shining armor. Someone who would treat you like royalty.” Her emphasis on certain words gave you the impression that she was trying to imply something, but whatever it was it went right over your head. She continued.

“Someone who is loyal, and kind, and would ride to the ends of Hyrule for you.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, okay Telma. Find me a man like that who would be interested in someone as plain as me and then we’ll go from there.” The sarcasm dripped from your voice, hiding the painful emotions that were beginning to stir again as you thought about how little Elis really seemed to care about you. Ride to the ends of Hyrule for you? He couldn’t even walk a kilometer away to meet you for dinner. And maybe that was all you could hope to get.

Telma froze, giving you an incredulous look. She set down the items she was holding and put her hands on her hips, scoffing. “Now really?”

You shrugged, dropping all efforts to hide your true emotions. “I’m a nobody who works as a potions-maker with nothing significant and no money to their name. Sure, a knight in shining armor sounds great and all, but someone like that would surely be sought after by all kinds of people with more to offer than me. And if they’re an actual knight then I know for a fact they’re one of the most desirable bachelors out there. I mean, take Link for example. He has women and men alike practically throwing themselves at him.”

Though you knew that comparing Link to a normal knight was hardly accurate. He was anything but normal. He was one of the members of the Royal Guard and recognized as a hero by the people of Hyrule. You weren’t sure you understood all of the details, but you did know that he had played a major role in expelling the monsters from the land and restoring peace to the kingdom. Once the major damage around the kingdom had been fixed and things began to settle back into a normal existence, Princess Zelda had held a large ceremony open to the public where he was officially made a member of the Royal Guard. You had laughed so much that day, knowing just how uncomfortable the guest of honor was with all of the attention.

Aside from being a famous knight and hero, Link was someone you would consider a close friend - maybe even your best friend (of course you would never tell Telma). You had met him for the first time back when the monsters still roamed and he frequently paid visits to Telma and her tavern to speak with members of the Resistance.

You had only heard stories about his bravery and heroism from your friend until the day she came crashing into the shop where you worked, speaking frantically about needing a health potion. She didn’t explain much, but you didn’t ask any questions either as you quickly got to work and provided her with what she needed. She promised she would explain more later and rushed out as soon as you had placed the bottle of red potion in her hand. You spent several hours after that as a ball of anxiety, creating the worst scenarios in your head about why she could possibly have needed the potion.

It wasn’t until you were about ready to close the shop for the day and rush over to see her that the door had opened and in walked a face you had never seen before. The man certainly looked as if he had seen better days and was in desperate need of a nap, but regardless you were slightly taken aback by how handsome he still appeared. He was tall and lean, with broad shoulders and (you assumed) muscular arms that were hidden underneath a loose, white long-sleeved shirt. His hair was a beautiful dirty blonde, tied back with a simple leather band that left loose strands framing his strong jawline. His face had been rather pale, and dark circles sat beneath blue eyes that you suspected were dulled due to exhaustion. But despite his obviously not wonderful condition, he had still exuded a sense of strength that was almost intimidating.

“Um, h-hello,” you stuttered. “I’m just about to close up-”

“Are you the one that I have to thank for saving my life?” He asked, taking a step forward. You froze up, and then frantically looked around the shop, trying to find the other person he was obviously talking to, because there was no way he could have been talking about you. A warm chuckle brought your eyes back to his face, where his soft smile nearly made you breathless.

“Are you the potions-maker?”

Mouth slightly open, you continued to stare. “U-uh yeah, that was me I guess.”

He nodded and continued to walk further into the shop, closer to you. You noticed that he seemed to be walking with a slight limp.

“Well, I just wanted to come here personally and give my thanks. Without that potion I’m not sure I would have the opportunity to be standing here now.”

You were certain that the look on your face was ridiculous, but you had no idea how to respond to this situation. It was your job to make potions, you didn’t need any thanks for it.

You wanted to say thanks, but instead when you opened your mouth you said, “Why are you standing here right now? If you needed that potion less than 12 hours ago, you should almost certainly still be in bed.” You gestured to his body, “And no offense or anything, but you really look like you should still be in bed.”

His colorless cheeks turned a bit pink then, and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, almost shyly. “Well, Telma is a wonderful person and all but I was starting to feel a bit…”

“Smothered?” You finished for him, stifling back the laugh that threatened to come out, knowing how your friend was. A look of relief washed over the stranger’s face and he nodded, seeming to realize that you understood how he was feeling.

“Yeahhh,” you drawled out, nodding sympathetically. “I understand that all too well. I actually had to put a lock on my bedroom door the last time I had a small sickness to physically stop her from bringing me medicine and food every hour. I love her to death but I can only take so much soup in one day.”

He laughed then, and you wondered how in the world a laugh could sound so nice. Pushing those thoughts aside, you introduced yourself then, holding your hand out to the man. He smiled and took it, his hand calloused from years of hard work but gentle nonetheless.

“I’m Link.”

A lightbulb went off in your head then. “Oh, you’re Link? I’ve heard so much about you!”

“I could say the same about you.”

It was the start of a beautiful friendship from that point onward. Whenever Link was in town, whether he was restocking his supplies, working closely with other members of the Resistance, or doing whatever it is that heroes do, you always made sure to make time to see him. And he did the same. He probably became your number one customer, always putting in bulk orders for various potions. You always joked with him about how often he needed health potions, but truthfully you were very worried about him and how he was constantly out in harm’s way. It was a lot of work, filling his large orders, but you were happy to know that you were helping to keep him safe in some capacity.

“And you’ve never.. stopped to consider why Link never takes anyone up on their offers?” Telma asked, still staring at you with an incredulous look. You couldn’t understand why she was acting so strange all of the sudden.

“Not really,” you shrugged. “I just assumed he’s too busy for it or that he does and nothing comes of it. He doesn’t talk to me much about his conquests, work-related or… otherwise.”

Telma shook her head. “No, honey, I don’t think he’s out there conquering anyone. He seems to have uh.. a specific goal in mind.” There it was again, that tone in her voice that made it seem like she was implying something that you just weren’t understanding. It nagged at you, but you chose to brush it off. Who knew what was going on in your friend’s mind.

“Well, regardless. I just don’t think I’m the type of person someone like a knight is trying to settle down with. But who knows, maybe I’ll ask Link if any of his fellow knight friends are available and interested.” You laughed, the joke seeming ridiculous. But your friend, on the other, didn’t seem to find it so funny. She stood, her mouth slightly open as if she couldn’t believe what you were saying.

“You’re joking, right?”

Frustration was starting to build up within you, unable to understand what you were doing that was so hard to believe. Why was Telma treating you like you were an idiot today? You were slightly kidding when you ragged on yourself about not being good enough, but did your friend genuinely believe it so strongly that even a joke about asking a knight was too much? She was the one that started the whole thing in the first place!

“Of course I’m joking Telma,” you snapped. “I know my place. Elis is probably the best I can hope to get.”

Telma closed her mouth, pursing her lips with an unamused look. She shook her head slowly and turned around to organize the newly cleaned mugs and glasses. “It’s not my place to get involved,” she said quietly, more to herself than to you. Still feeling frustrated, you huffed loudly and turned to leave. First Elis, now Telma. This was not shaping up to be a good day.

Before you could fully turn around though, she glanced back, stopping you with the serious expression on her face. “Really. You can do better. There is better out there. Waiting to love you the way that you deserve to be loved. You just need to open your eyes.”

Your sour emotions were already set though, and you were in no mood for cryptic messages. “Alright, thank you fortune-teller Telma. I’ll see you later. Thanks again for the drink.” And without looking back, you walked to the door, opened it, and took a step into the darkening evening.

The air was crisp and cooler than it had been since the spring, signifying the exit of summer and beginning of a chilly autumn. Very fitting weather for the night of the Autumn Festival.

You crossed your arms tightly against your body as you walked, the thin shirt you chose to wear not doing a good job to protect you from the chill. You felt your temper cooling as you walked as well, gradually being replaced by a feeling of deep sadness and loneliness. All around you were people enjoying the festival, happy to be surrounded by those they love. Grandparents lovingly watching their grandkids laugh and play as they ran through the crowded streets playing tag, friends walking together and sharing stories that made them snort and grab their sides from laughing so hard, new couples attached at the hip and so engrossed in each other they hardly watched where they’re going… it was isolating. Here you were, recently stood up for the umpteenth time by someone who was supposed to care about you, walking through massive crowds of people and yet never feeling more alone.

You felt an all-to-familiar tightness in your throat, and the tears began to prick the corner of your eyes, blurring your surroundings into blobs of shimmering color. You fought hard to keep your composure, determined to make it back to the shop so you could run to your small bedroom upstairs and never come back out. But the loud voice in your head was determined to break you.

Why? Why am I not good enough? Did I do something wrong? How can I be better?

The strong feeling of hopelessness that came with those though breached the dam you had built to hold back the tears, and with a loud sob, they started to spill. A few people within your vicinity turned to look at you curiously, likely wondering what could have caused the noise that came out of your mouth. You put your head down and covered your mouth with your hands, hoping to muffle the sound of the sobs that continued to come involuntarily.

Luckily for you, there was a small alleyway directly to your left. You were able to shove past the poor innocent people who were in your way and beeline for the abandoned area. Once you were in the alley, you began to run, desperate to get as far away from people as possible. You weren’t able to make it very far though as a dead end blocked your escape. Incapable of thinking of any other alternatives, you resigned to this being your stopping point and slid down the wall until you were sitting with your arms wrapped around your knees, legs tucked as closely to your body as you could physically get them. Dropping your head down, let all of the feelings you had been holding in for the evening out.

It was overwhelming yet cathartic. The force of your sobs wracked your body for what felt like hours, the thoughts of inadequacy and rejection running through your mind on an endless loop. But eventually, you found it easier and easier to take deep, measured breaths and the body shaking sobs gradually slowed to a halt. No longer did you feel… well, anything. The only thing you could feel now was numbness. A quiet calm to replace the raging storm that had been going on.

You sat up, leaning your head against the wall behind you. You stared up at evening sky, the sun out of view as it dipped closer to the horizon. You’re not sure how long you sat there, relishing the feeling of feeling nothing at all. You knew you needed to get up, but you worried that once you stood the feelings would come rushing back.

Your solitude was ruined by the loud crashing noise of a door being opened with extreme force close by. The sound startled you, making you nearly topple over with surprise.

You heard a whiny, high-pitched voice over the thundering beat of your heart. “Come on, it’s about to start!! We’re not even going to get a good view at this point!”

A few meters away, a young child came running out of the small apartment door that you hadn’t even realized was there. Had they heard your crying?

“Leon, slow down. There will be plenty of space available. The procession goes all the way from the city gates up to the castle. Certainly not everyone will be crowded in the same area.” An older woman stepped out after the child, her smile conflicting with the stern tone in her voice. She didn’t even glance in your direction as she shut the door behind her and followed the child down the alley to join the festivities you had so desperately escaped.

Ah yes, the procession. You had almost forgotten all about that.

As a closing event of the Autumn Festival, the royal family traveled in procession through Castle Town, waving and acknowledging their loyal and loving subjects. It was not just them, however. The royal carriage was last in line in the procession. Preceding it were several (and in your opinion, more interesting) groups. Professional jugglers, wowing the crowds as they showed off the impressive skills they have while on the move. Bands of Gorons who marched in step, beating out different tunes powerfully on large drums. One year, when you were young, there was a fantastic group of Zora dancers who mesmerized the crowds with their movements, as smooth on land as they were in water. It changed from year to year, but since this was the first Autumn Festival celebration after years of being terrorized by monsters, it was sure to be a big one.

You continued to sit, looking towards the crowd as it continued to grow, their excited voices bouncing off the walls of the empty alley. Normally, you would be one of them, jumping up and down with excited anticipation to see what that year’s procession has in store. But now you couldn’t imagine standing there, surrounded by happiness and laughter.

The crowd roared as the first part of the procession finally appeared, slowly crawling through the street. You listened as people cheered for the performers who walked, “ooh”ing and “ahh”ing as they did whatever it was that they were doing. You couldn’t see through the crowd of people who now blocked off the entrance of the alley, so you could only listen and imagine, picking up bits and pieces of conversations as it drifted down to your ears.

You didn’t need to be able to see when the Gorons arrived, however. That you could feel. The vibrations rattled your entire body as they beat their drums in sync, the unfamiliar tune sinking into your very bones. It was an oddly relaxing feeling. You were happy to close your eyes and rest your head on the wall, soaking in the feeling. You were left with an achingly empty feeling in your chest when the Gorons were far enough away that you could no longer feel their drums.

You decided that even though you were tired, you would wait until the end to get up and begin making your way home. With the crowd the way that it was, there was no way you would make it anywhere anyways. So, you continued to sit.

As you waited, your mind drifted to Elis. If he hadn’t come to meet you, then where was he? Was he just lounging lazily in his bed as he so often liked to do, unable to be bothered to come meet you? Or was he out there in the crowd, standing with his friends, cracking jokes without even sparing a single thought for you?

Your heart dropped as another thought crossed your mind. Was he out there in the crowd with another girl? Had he spent the evening whisking someone else around to the different stalls, sharing all sorts of sweet treats with her? Feeding her fresh fruit as they walked? Whispering things in her ear, making her giggle and blush? Did he give her his jacket when she began to shiver because she was only wearing a light shirt? Was he going to take her home once the festivities ended?

You could feel the emotions coming back, much to your displeasure. You didn’t want to feel anything. You liked the numbness. But the thought of Elis leaving you to look foolish while he was out entertaining another girl was too much to handle.

You decided that you needed to get home. You couldn’t stand to be out any longer. You would shove people out of the way if you needed to.

Standing up quickly, you made your way back to the entrance of the alley where the crowd was currently a wave of excitement. You began to push your way through, but you were only able to make it to the front of the crowd before you realized you were stuck. There was rope that stretched down the street as far as you could see on both sides of you. To block people from crossing the road and potentially getting hurt or messing up the procession, you assumed.

Frustration bubbling and exiting your body in the form of hot tears that welled up in your eyes, you turned to push your way back. But once again, you quickly realized that wasn’t going to happen. A large Goron stood behind you, happily oblivious and chatting with another large Goron besides them. Considering you had to crane your neck to look up at their faces, you assumed that you would not be able to get their attention with all of the noise and distraction. Groaning inwardly you turned back and stood miserably, knowing that your only option now was to stand and wait for the procession to end.

Luckily you didn’t have to wait long before you heard the sound of the horns, signifying the arrival of the royal carriage. Once again, the crowd around you came alive, everyone excitedly standing on their toes and moving around to try and get a look.

The horses were the first thing to come into view. Beautiful white horses donning colorful, bedazzled bits and draped with navy and gold saddle blankets made their way past you. Children and adults alike stuck their hands out, reaching to try and get a touch of the magnificent creatures as they passed. You wanted to be excited, but the heavy feeling in your chest and tightness in your throat remained, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the tears began to spill again. You just hoped you could hold out until you were able to get away from people.

Something heavy suddenly pushed up against your right shoulder, nearly toppling you over. Luckily you were able to keep your footing and straighten yourself up before falling. Pushing the hair out of your eyes, you glared in the direction of the mysterious force.

Two girls, probably just a few years younger than you, were standing there, staring at you with wide eyes.

“So sorry!” One squeaked, genuinely looking scared. You held your glare for a few more seconds before turning your head back to the procession, not even bothering to accept her apology. Her and her friend did not seem bothered for too long, however, and began to chat animatedly. They were so close that you couldn’t help but overhear.

“Do you think we’ll see him?”

“Of course we’re going to see him you idiot! He’s like, Princess Zelda’s shadow! Wherever she is, he is!”

Suddenly the conversation you were trying very hard to ignore grabbed your attention. You realized, with slight amusement, that you had a good idea as to who they were probably talking about.

“I mean, I don’t blame her for always wanting him around.”

“Oh I totally agree. If I had a knight who looked like that, I’d never let him leave my side.”

The girls burst into giggles, and you rolled your eyes. But also, you knew you couldn’t blame them either. There was no denying that Link was very easy on the eyes.

The girl closest to you sighed wistfully. “He just seems so dreamy. He’s brave, and strong, and he’s so kind! One time I saw him buy a whole basket of bread that he then passed out to the line of people who had been waiting for hours to see the doctor. This was when that horrible sickness came through Castle Town a few months ago and everyone was sick! He risked his own health to make sure people were fed while they waited.”

You hadn’t heard about that, but you were not surprised in the least. Link was an absolutely selfless man who consistently put other people’s needs before his own. He had done it a time or two for you as well. One of those times was actually during the sickness that the two girls were referring to.

You had managed to stay healthy for awhile, but you found yourself extremely overworked during that time, trying to keep up with the mass influx of orders of health potions and other remedies that came pouring in from desperate townspeople. You had averaged about an hour of sleep a night for days on end, and were lucky if you were able to eat a single meal. Luckily, Link had offered to help you with deliveries which took a massive load off of your plate. However, it still took a major toll on your body physically. Luckily, Link was there to save the day. You know, like heroes do.

The bell dinged, signaling that someone had entered the store. You didn’t even bother to turn around, busy cutting and weighing the ingredients in front of you. It was a very precise recipe, and even the slightest miscalculation or mess up could change the effect of the potion entirely.

“Hey, I’m back.” His calm and gentle voice was a welcome break from your frantic muttering out loud to yourself as you worked. You simply grunted and waved the hand holding the knife into the air to acknowledge his arrival.

His laughter was followed by footsteps as he walked behind the counter, coming to a stop beside you. His presence seemed to bring you comfort, and you could feel yourself starting to relax slightly. “You know, waving a knife at a member of the Royal Guard could be seen as a threat. Be careful where you point that thing.”

You rolled your eyes and finally turned your head to face him, your exhausted smile meeting his boyish grin. “At this point, there is nothing you could do to me that is worse than what I’ve been dealing with the past few weeks. Go ahead and lock me up or chop me up, either is preferable at this point.”

His smile faltered, and you could see the concern in his eyes. Suddenly, he looked very serious. “Have you eaten today?”

Sighing, you put down the knife and stepped away from the ingredients. You decided a short break wouldn’t hurt. Running a hand over your face, you tried your best to stifle a yawn. “What time is it?”

“It’s a few hours past midday. Have you eaten?” He repeated, eyes boring into yours. You worried your bottom lip, nervous to tell him that you had not.

“Well, Elis told me he would bring me lunch an hour before noon.”

Link’s eyes hardened. “And did he?”

You laughed timidly, shrugging. “I’m sure something came up and he was too busy.”

The blonde did not look impressed in the slightest. “So, no.”

You waved a hand nonchalantly. “It’s okay, I’m not super hungry anyways. Too busy to be hungry!” With fake enthusiasm, you made to turn back to your ingredients and continue working. Link’s hand gently touched your arm, stopping you from moving.

“You need to take care of yourself. You need to eat.” The concern in his face made your heart skip a beat.

You nodded finally, giving in. “I know, I will. I guess I won’t be any help to anyone if I die of starvation huh?”

Link shook his head, his expression still very serious. “I’m not worried about other people. I’m worried about you.”

You froze, your breath catching slightly in your throat. Your brain seemed to malfunction as you tried to figure out how to reply. But Link was suddenly distracted, rummaging around in the satchel that was slung across his body, a concentrated look on his face. Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for and pulled out a small brown bag, which he then held out to you. You looked at it, then back up at him. He nudged it forward again, prompting you to take it.

“Please.”

You didn’t have any words as you gingerly took the bag from his hands. Slowly, you opened it and peered down at the contents. Bread, cheese, a few slices of dried meat, and a large red apple. You looked back up at your friend.

“I can’t take your lunch from you!” You exclaimed, trying to push the bag back into his hands. He was having none of it though. He grabbed your hand with both of his. He gripped it gently but firmly, closing your fist over the opening of the bag and pushing it back towards you.

“It’s not my lunch, don’t worry.”

“Oh, so you just walk around with spare lunches in your bag?” Though when you really thought about it, he did always seem to have literally everything inside that bag..

Link looked away, suddenly seeming shy. “Well, no. I brought it. For you.”

“For me?” For what felt like the millionth time that day, your chest swelled with gratitude for the blonde.

“You know.. just in case.”

It was both charming and upsetting. It was extremely sweet that Link was concerned and thinking about you. But it made your heart sink to think that Elis, someone who claimed to love you, couldn’t even be bothered. You tried your hardest to fight back the tears as you nodded and accepted the meal.

Link seemed to let out a breath of relief, smiling gently as he watched you pull the bread out and nibble on the edge.

“Please promise me you will take better care of yourself.”

You just nodded, your mouth full of bread. He narrowed his eyes and leaned down, his face just inches away from yours. You froze, suddenly feeling nervous at his proximity.

“Promise.”

His face was once again serious, but his eyes were soft. Caring.

You swallowed the bread you had been chewing and nodded again, genuine this time. “I promise, Link.”

He continued to stare, unmoving. “You promise what?”

You groaned, making a face. “Really?”

But his stoic expression told you that he was not joking.

“I promise that I will take better care of myself,” you muttered, feeling like a child who was being scolded. He still didn’t move for a few moments, however, continuing to search your eyes with an unreadable expression. Finally, he stood up and nodded once.

“Good. I expect to see you eating every day from here on out. On your own,” he added. “Not waiting for a meal that will never show.”

The meaning behind his words cut deep, and once again you were reminded that the one person who was supposed to care about you didn’t seem to.

But at least you had Link.

A loud squeal brought you back to the present, where you hadn’t even realized you zoned out.

“Oh here it comes!”

And sure enough, the royal carriage came into view, pulled by two gigantic horses. What little sunlight remained reflected beautifully off of the gold exterior, the different jewels that decorated it sparkling magnificently. The fabric top was not in place, giving the crowd an unobstructed view of the figure standing inside.

Princess Zelda was the vision of beauty and grace as she smiled and waved to the crowd. Her blonde hair was pulled out of her slim face and back into an intricate braid that was adorned with flowers that matched the white and lavender dress she was wearing. A small but genuine and warm smile graced her lips, and her eyes were sharp and alert as she scanned her surroundings and took in the sight of her subjects. She exuded a sense of strength and unity, which was something the people of Hyrule had desperately needed for so long.

Once again, your train of thought was broken by an obnoxious squeal.

“There he is! I told you! I told you we’d see him!” The girl next you jumped up and down, not even realizing that she bumped into you every time she did so. Her friend was leaning heavily over the side of the rope, trying to get the best view possible. You held your breath, feeling anxious all of the sudden for a reason you didn’t understand.

His hair was the first thing you spotted, the navy cap contrasting heavily with the blonde locks that weren’t quite as well tamed as the rest of him. The pristine white trousers and navy and crimson tunic hugged his athletic figure generously, showcases the strength he had built over years of hard work and fighting. His sword was strapped to his back, ready to be pulled at a moment’s notice if needed. But what you noticed most about the knight was the way that he carried himself as he marched alongside the carriage.

He held his chin high, shrouded with an air of confidence well earned from countless successful battles. Despite his tall and muscular frame, he was endlessly graceful, almost gliding along the ground. His bright blue eyes were alert and sharp, and he scanned the crowd continuously, making sure there were no imminent threats to the princess or otherwise.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him, suddenly finding yourself enamored with everything about him. Telma’s words from earlier came back to you as you continued to stare.

A knight in shining armor.

There was a phrase to describe Link if there ever was one. From his strength, to his courage, to his generosity, to his kindness. He was the embodiment of a true knight.

Suddenly, you found yourself once again reliving the memory of the two of you in your shop, concern etched into his face as he stared down at you.

“Please promise me you will take better care of yourself.”

“I’m not worried about other people. I’m worried about you.”

An intense feeling of loneliness and longing washed over you, making it harder for you to breathe. You bit down on your lip as you fought to hold back the tears that suddenly welled up in your eyes.

Whoever Link chooses will be the luckiest person in all of Hyrule. To have someone who cares so openly, someone with such a good heart.. Not someone who would continuously abandon plans and give half-hearted excuses for why he can’t come.

But what you had told Telma was true. You were a nobody with no money to your name. You had nothing to offer anyone. Elis was rich and had status. For someone like him to be with someone like you was almost unheard of. It would be silly to get caught up on something as silly as feelings when you were being given more than what you deserved.

It still hurt though. And the tears still came, spilling over and sliding down your cheeks.

“He’s getting closer! Oh my goddesses, he’s almost right in front of us!!” The girl next to you grabbed her friend, shaking her with excitement. You watched from the corner of your eye as they quickly rushed to fix their hair and straighten out their dresses that had been ruffled in all the commotion.

You found yourself annoyed at their behavior, but appreciated the heads up. With you being in the front, there was a very good chance that Link would see you. And he couldn’t see you crying. You turned away, trying to hide your face as you wiped frantically at the tears. But it seemed like the more you tried, the more the tears came. You began to panic, which only added to the strong emotions that you were feeling and made everything worse.

You turned back around, planning to just sneak a quick peek to see how much time you had before he walked by. If he was too close, you planned to just turn around and stay turned around until he was well past you. Sure it would look funny, but he wouldn’t know that that was the back of your head in the crowd.

But unfortunately, just like it had been for the entire day, luck was not on your side. As soon as you turned around, piercing blue eyes met your red and watery ones.

You immediately straightened up, wiping frantically at your face and trying to plaster on a smile that was horribly unconvincing. Link’s eyes widened as he took in your appearance, and you could see that he was visibly struggling to keep his facial features calm.

“Annessa, he’s looking at you! I can’t believe it, he’s looking at you!!!”

The girl’s voices sounded far away as she screeched at the girl next to you, whose name was apparently Annessa. The only thing you could focus on was Link and the pained expression he worse on his face as he fought against whatever emotions he was currently feeling.

Once again you tried to give him an unconvincing smile, but it was the ultimate failure as your lips quivered and you had to put your hand over your mouth to hide the sob that came out.

Did he know? Did he know how pathetic you were? How you weren’t even worth your own partner’s time? Surely he had to know that, as someone who was one of the most popular men in the entire kingdom. He was only nice to you because that’s who he was. He was a nice person.

You maintained eye contact with him for as long as you could, but eventually you had to turn away, embarrassed by your emotions and how unstable you appeared. When you brought your head back up, Link was no longer looking at you. He looked forward as he continued to march on.

Exactly. He knew that you weren’t worth it. That you were an embarrassment.

But what you weren’t expecting was for him to turn his head, glancing back over his shoulder to get one last look at you. You weakly waved, and he frowned before turning back around and continuing to look forward.

“Did you see that?? He even looked back at you!! You made the Link do a double take!!!”

The girls next to you jumped up and down in excitement, squealing on and on about Link and something about marriage and children. You weren’t sure because you tuned them out. You tuned everything out. That feeling of numbness returned, which you were grateful for, and you spent the rest of the procession staring at the ground, blissfully unaware of anything happening around you.

Eventually the procession had ended and the crowd began to clear, excitement still in the air as the chatted about the day’s events to each other and made their way home or to the bars. It was nighttime now, so the party would likely continue for most of the adults, whether that was in the tavern or at private parties around the city.

For you, you were just happy that you could finally make your way home. You did not want to party, you did not want to socialize. You wanted to crawl into your bed and never get out. You wanted to physically become one with the pillows.

As you approached the shop, you had a stupid hope in your heart that maybe Elis would be there waiting for you. That he had come late to the bar to meet you, and when he couldn’t find you in the crowd he decided to wait for you at your shop. But, of course, you were met with disappointment and darkness when you arrived home. Nobody was waiting for you at the door, and there were no explanations about why he never showed.

You entered the shop and barely remembered to lock the door behind you before dragging yourself upstairs to your bedroom. Master Shido was out of town, traveling to who-knows-where for some rare ingredients, so you did not have to worry about the noise you made as you collapsed on to your bed.

Today was awful, and you wanted absolutely nothing more than for it to be over. You lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, but sleep never came. Instead, your mind whirled continuously about Elis.

What was he doing at the moment? Was he with another woman? Did he even feel any remorse for standing you up? How would you confront him? Should you even confront him? What would you say if-

Thud.

Your froze, your racing thoughts stopped by a loud, muffled noise downstairs. You held your breath as you waited, in the silence and in the darkness, for more noise to come. But it never did.

You were starting to believe you had simply imagined it when it came again.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Someone was knocking on the front door of the store.

#Link #Legend of Zelda #Link/Reader #Link/You #Zelda fanfic #twilight princess #twilight princess fanfic #reader-insert #reader #x reader

81 notes · View notes

aroace-cat-lady · 5 months

Text

Okay I have like ten minutes I'm gonna try to write all my thoughts about THE LAST SHADOWHUNTER (please be aware the maker of this post is extremely sleep deprived and in finals)

So, last year I made this post that was like "imagine the shadowhunter duty ends and now you have this whole ass civilization that's lived apart from the world since the beginnings of time and now their only duty is over and have to somehow carry on with that, like there's this fundamental part of their identity that just doesn't matter anymore, but they can finally have normal and peaceful lives". Now that's bittersweet if you ask me.

HOWEVER that's not what I'm gonna talk about right now, just a possibility that I'd like to put in everyone's minds (cuz crazy theories are my thing and I'm still haunted by this thought)

Now, I think about the last prince of hell. My best shot right now is that that's Lucifer (just think about it: the last king of faerie is gonna be an intro that's way too heavy, [the CC style] and somehow the gang is gonna find a way to exile eight out of nine and be like Yeah that's all everybody see you at Christmas, then Bad Thing Is Revealed and we're sobbing again. Or maybe they happen at the same time. Cassie likes to have fun with that). If Lucifer is the threat now, we are done. (Like, not done done, just holy mother of god take us out of this done, ya know?)

My first thought (as usual 😔) was Kit (IM A BASIC BITCH OKAY?) but I don't know. That'd be too easy (but I'm not taking him off the list completely). I saw some saying it might be Tessa (which would be cool as fuck) but Tessa already had her story and Cassie is known for letting each generation shine at their own time.

So, I decided to empower my most unlikely theories, and put my money on Ash. I am not an Ash expert, so I apologize in advance if I've got things wrong. But I'm of the idea Ash is in such an interesting position cuz he's had the opportunity to learn from three of the characters that despite shadowhunters the most. However, he is a shadowhunter himself, but doesn't feel any alienation to them (and either to the faeries as far as I'm aware? I think he sees himself as a completely different creature than those around him cuz He Has Gone Thru It™ but that's a conversation for another post). For what I know, at the end of the day Ash is just a kid that has never been seen as a person. He's always being the weapon, the trophy or the treasure. And out of all the cast, I think Ash has the potential to go thru the most devastating heart wrenching and infamous story line to get to that point.

And there's also the possibility it's a character that has not been introduced and we're just putting on our clown make up 🫠

30 notes · View notes

e-wills-afterhours · 5 months

Text

Pretentious Coffee, Chapter 1

A/N: Yes, my friends. Behold! The return off my wildly popular Hiccstrid coffee shop/college modern AU. I am working on chapter 7 of Vetrnaetr as we speak. Since writing that take quite a bit of time and effort, I thought I would edit and post this oldie (but still a goody?) in the meantime. The fic also takes place around the Christmas season, so, well...why the hell not, amirite???

I also once saw someone say the characters' names should reflect modern names in a modern au. But...I don't care. You know who I'm writing about, and changing the names is cumbersome, so I've dropped the pretense. *jazz hands*

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Hiccstrid

---

Astrid’s head ached from the aftereffects of the previous night’s party. Between the deafening music, the pervasive smell of marijuana, beer, and vomit, and the morning’s brutal hangover, she vowed never to accompany her roommate to another “small get together” again. Ruffnut couldn’t be trusted. Astrid was unsure the other woman understood the concept of responsible, well-mannered entertainment. Like her twin brother, Ruffnut lived for the extreme, and Astrid had been their collateral damage more than once.

Hence her current state.

It was almost noon and she was standing in line for overpriced coffee in a tiny corner shop she never visited. It was cramped, but quiet; unlike the student café on campus.

Astrid was not one for caffeine, but she needed a pick-me-up to salvage the remainder of her weekend for studying. Unfortunately, her midterm exams would not pass themselves.

“Next,” the barista droned.

Astrid glanced up, scanning overhead chalkboard menu framed by poorly drawn snowflakes—to complement the abysmal weather outside, she supposed. Her eyes darted around, but settled on nothing in particular.

There were ten different kind of specialty coffees, an assortment of seasonal hot drinks, traditional coffee brews, and another half of the menu dedicated to blended concoctions.

Inexperienced in the ways of coffees and lattes, Astrid found it all a bit overwhelming.

“You know, this would be a whole lot easier on the both of us if you had—I don’t know…bothered to glance at the menu when you were waiting in line, nothing to do.”

Astrid blinked, staring at the barista who was leaning on the counter, propped up by his elbows. He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she was taken aback, torn between gaping at his rudeness and scowling back. She imagined her face did some odd sort of spasm between the two while she fumbled a response.

“I’ve never been in here before!” she blurted in her defense.

“Neither has that guy, but he ordered in two seconds,” the barista sighed, nodding toward the gentleman waiting for his drink in the pick-up area. “Blissfully uncomplicated.”

Astrid folded her arms, feeling herself bristle under the layers of winter clothing. “I don’t drink coffee.”

He laughed, straightening up. His name badge caught the light and her gaze flickered down to read HICCUP.

“Yet…you’re in a coffee shop?” he asked, his otherwise bored tone punctuated with burgeoning amusement.

Astrid rolled her eyes, dropping her arms to the side. “I didn’t mean I never—“ She stopped abruptly, feeling her temper rise at the gap-tooth smirk across the counter. She tore off her gloves and stuffed them in her purse for something else to focus on. “Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything, huh?” she sassed back.

“And this is the place you chose. Lucky me.”

She glared at him, leaning in. “Working real hard for that tip, aren’t you?”

He genuinely grinned. “The whole twenty-five cents you weren’t going to pay me to begin with? I’m devastated.”

Astrid’s headache was getting worse she knew who to blame. She huffed, rubbing her forehead. Her eyes were scrunched closed, half with pain, and half with exasperation. If she wasn’t already miserable from excessive drinking, “Hiccup” would have made her so.

“Look,” she hissed. “I’ll take the…gingerbread latte, small. Can you put an extra shot of espresso in that?” She shook her head as he opened his mouth to answer, disinterested in whatever snarky remark he had to share. “Oh, never mind. Just do it—and if it’s one of those girly coffees with whipped cream, you can just leave that off.”

Hiccup uncapped a sharpie and started scribbling on the side of an empty cup. “Extra-pretentious coffee with a generous dusting of privilege…”

“What?” she barked, wringing the strap of her purse like it was his neck.

If only.

Hiccup’s expression was neutral.

“A small gingerbread latte with an extra shot, hold the whipped cream. Why? What did you hear?” He passed the empty cup to the other barista working the espresso machine. “That’ll be three-fifty.”

Astrid rummaged around for her wallet, pulling out a crinkled five dollar bill and shoving it into his hand rather forcefully. He made change, and there was something about his even visage that was as infuriating as his snarky quips. Without a single word, Astrid still felt like he was making a mockery of things—his job; the coffee he served; her.

She tucked the change away, fingers cramming it down bitterly, all save for one quarter to hold over the tip jar. When Hiccup’s eyebrows arched in surprise, she withdrew it in spite. He just laughed, much to her increasing annoyance.

Apparently, along with his lack of professionalism, he did not have the capacity to take things seriously—but it wasn’t Astrid’s problem that he didn’t want to be tipped. For some reason, it bothered her all the same.

Hiccup splayed a hand over his chest, ruefully eyeing the quarter. “You’re breaking my heart.”

She scoffed and marched toward the back of the shop near the coffee pick-up. There was a small table by the window where she could watch the cathartic dance of the snowfall outside. It was something to gaze at with unfocused eyes as she ran through her flash cards for political science.

Of her upcoming exams, she feared that one the least, deciding it was the best content to review until her brain began firing on all cylinders again.

She shrugged off her jacket and her scarf, draping them over the back of the chair. She had been feeling heated, thinking it was her interaction with a certain intolerable barista, but as she sat down, she noticed just how warm the shop really was. With less layers, it was actually pleasant, and she pulled out ring of flash cards from her purse.

Not more than four cards in, her latte was delivered by a tall, gangling figure—fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it—and her mood soured, until she saw the water bottle set down alongside her drink.

“For the hangover,” Hiccup explained, no attitude to spare. “Works better than espresso, anyway.”

Astrid stared up at him, puzzled.

It was in the daylight filtering through the window that she finally saw him properly, and that face, so unassuming and unimpressed by everything around him, rang a bell. Something about those eyes and that irritating carelessness lit a match in her memory—but it was only a tiny flame, incapable of illuminating the bigger picture. She did not know when or where, but she was sure she had seen him before. It was dim inside that little coffee shop, but closer to the window, Hiccup had eyes that were not easily forgotten.

He quirked his brow again and only then did she realize she had been staring.

“What makes you think I have a hangover?” she asked, wishing she had not noticed the familiarity in his tone.

Too suddenly, she was noticing other things—his jawline and stubble, and the flattering fit of his black work slacks. Objectively, he was easy on the eyes, and it was a great cosmic injustice that he did not have the corresponding personality.

“Maybe it’s the fact you’re in here studying in the middle of a Saturday, trudging through crappy weather, spending too much on coffee you never drink, and squinting excessively?” he replied. “Or maybe it’s just a barista’s intuition?”

Astrid snorted, but reached for the water. Her throat was becoming drier the longer he stood there.

“Your intuition is shit because I’m not squinting. I’m glaring, and you’re the reason.”

Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck, smirking. “Okay, Ms. Not-hungover. Consider it a midterm special—coffee and water.”

“And what do I owe you for this ‘midterm special?’”

With a straight face, he answered, “A quarter would suffice.”

Astrid sneered, reaching for her purse. “You’re such an idiot.”

She produced the quarter, holding out to him with a flat stare.

“Maybe I am, but I’m not the one hungover the weekend before midterms—ah! Excuse me. Not-hungover,” he said, walking away with his hands up.

“Jackass,” she muttered, raising her latte to her lips. She yelped and nearly dropped the cup, fanning herself furiously as the drink scalded her.

“Beginner’s tip: Coffee is usually hot,” Hiccup called from behind the counter.

Astrid continued to glare at him, even after he had looked away. She still held him in her sights, even after her expression softened a bit.

#hiccstrid #hiccstrid fic #httyd modern au #hiccstrid modern au #pretentious coffee AU

24 notes · View notes