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2manyfandoms2count · 3 years

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I love you (not) - Chapter 8

Somehow, this went over the 2k words mark. No wonder I'm running late on @marichatmay now. Oops? (I guess I just really like writing cooking scenes)

Hope you enjoy!

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Chapter 8: In which the kids think about kissing each other a lot, but it's still too early

Chat Noir’s heart was heavy as he made his way towards Marinette’s place.

He knew that his decision to break up with her was the right one; he’d kept up the charade long enough, and he wasn’t comfortable with the fact that she was reaching out for him through Ladybug. They’d undeniably spent some nice moments together, the memory of which he cherished dearly, but he was afraid that Marinette was getting too confident about the strength of their relationship (and the fact that he found himself thinking about her a lot hadn’t been an argument in favour of not playing along a little longer).

His already cloudy mood had further been dampened by the really sucky day he’d had. His father had come up with yet another fashion shoot, which had prevented him from attending the Kitty Section rehearsal he’d been looking forward to all week. Then, Lila had managed to get them paired up for a History project, which he wouldn’t have minded too much had it not been for the fact that she’d bragged all morning about a trip to New York she’d be making the week they were supposed to work on the task, meaning that he’d have to do all the work himself. Finally, to top everything off, an Akuma had interrupted the only free period he had for the rest of the week; it had been nice to see Ladybug, but he wished he’d used the time to collect his thoughts and rehearse what he’d say to Marinette.

He landed on her balcony with a loud thump, and knocked on her skylight.

“Just a minute!” she called out, and he heard her rifle around her room before running up her ladder and opening her skylight.

“Hi,” she beamed, slightly flushed and breathless, as she ushered him in.

He felt his heart clench in his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was better that she seemed in a great mood, but he didn’t have time to ponder on the topic too much; she tugged him down the stairs, and all but pushed him on her chaise, before reverently presenting him with a wrapped package.

“Happy birthday, kitty.” She bit her lip, anxiously waiting for him to open it.

Chat Noir toyed with it. He’d been so busy in the past week that his lie about his birthday had completely slipped his mind. He found himself in a difficult situation. Either he could come clean to her about his intentions, and apologise about everything he’d put her through, or… He could open Marinette’s present. Which, knowing her, would be very thoughtful and amazing. She looked very excited about it.

The temptation was too great.

“You remembered!” He gave her a small smile as his claws gently tore through the tape, and found himself with a neatly folded knitted, black product on his knees. He got up and held it out before him; he had to lift it for it not to drag on the floor, it was so long. She hadn’t just seen something that made her think about him. She must have spent ages working on it. For him .

The bright green paw in the middle, associated with the matching cotton sheet that lined the blanket left little doubt as to that fact.

Marinette’s smile falling and her rambling snapped him out from his silent admiration of the gift. He engulfed her in a hug, holding her close to compensate for his speechlessness.

“It’s purr-fect, Princess,” he croaked, letting go of her and clutching the blanket again. “I mean, look at this stitching; how did you manage to get it so regular? And this yarn…” He purred as he rubbed it against his cheek. “It’s so soft.”

“Well, you deserve something that isn’t scratchy,” Marinette giggled.

“But you didn’t have to go so hard on this! This could almost be… A cape!” He wrapped it around his shoulders, holding its two top corners with one hand, and bowed before her. “Your knight at your service, Princess.” He took her hand and kissed it with a wink, before immediately standing up and wrapping it around him differently, therefore missing Marinette’s tension and flush. “It works as a toga, too!”

“A very historically accurate one at that,” Marinette snorted.

“Hey, you don’t know what my predecessors wore.” He crossed his arms over his chest. The top of his makeshift toga fell over them. Marinette grabbed a couple of safety pins and moved closer to him to secure it back.

“Yes, you’re right. I’m utterly ignorant when it comes to past Miraculous wielders,” she said as she did so. “Mind teaching me about them?” She looked up at him. She was very close, for the second time in the evening, her eyes glinting mischievously in the almost half-light.

His breath hitched as the thought that he’d only have to lean in a tiny bit to kiss her curious smile off her lips crossed his mind.

His stomach rumbled, then, and he jumped back, feeling his cheeks redden. He was about to use it as an excuse to leave when he noticed the colours had drained from Marinette’s face.

“I’m so sorry Chat! I forgot to make you some macarons!” She gasped.

He almost laughed at how cute she was, but smiled tenderly instead, and held her shoulders. “Marinette, you made me a full blanket yourself in one week. I’m good without the macarons.”

“But you don’t have a birthday cake, and you’re hungry, and ugh, how could I forget...” She rubbed her eyes frustratedly.

His stomach manifested itself again, proving her point. With all his interruptions, he wasn’t sure he’d eaten more than an apple since breakfast. He really should be going to right that wrong.

“Okay, that settles it.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her trap door. He quickly stepped out of the blanket and tossed it back on her chaise; it wasn't very practical to walk in. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she started to open it. “My parents are sleeping, I think, so we’ll go down to the bakery kitchen. We’ll need to be quiet, though.”

“Okay,” he whispered back.

They cautiously sneaked down the stairs, stopping at any floorboard creak, hearts racing as they listened for any movement. They remained silent even after Marinette had carefully closed the front door of the apartment behind them, holding each other’s hand tightly, as if the stakes were much higher than Chat being sent home and Marinette to bed if they were discovered.

“It’s a bit late to make macarons, but how do you feel about chouquettes?” Marinette hid a sly grin as she turned the light on in the kitchen. She knew exactly what he thought about them.

“That seems like an excellent option.” Chat’s eyes lit up hungrily.

“Good. Could you turn on the oven? 250°C.” She indicated, while she took out the ingredients.

“Oui, Chef.” He executed. “What next?”

“If you could measure out 250mL of milk, then pour it in this saucepan,” she handed him a carton of milk and a measuring jug, before putting the saucepan on a hob and adding other ingredients to it. He followed her instructions, then, seeing as there was barely any left in the container, chugged the remainder, before sighing contently and throwing the carton over his shoulder, without looking. It landed straight in the dustbin.

Marinette paused in the middle of cutting the butter, baffled.

“What?” Chat asked when she’d stood there, blinking, for a couple of minutes.

“I’m sorry, what was that ?” She shook her head and waved her knife between him and the dustbin.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t ask if it was alright for me to finish it,” he said sheepishly. “I can buy you another-”

“I’m not talking about that, although maybe I should, because how stereotypical that you, a cat superhero, should drink milk,” she waved his apology away, raking the butter into the pan. “I’m talking about your aim. Do you play basketball?”

“Sometimes.” Chat scratched the back of his head. It wasn’t exactly true. He’d just perfected the art of landing baskets from any angle of his room out of boredom; it’d been his biggest challenge for a while.

“Maybe you should try out for a team or something.” She handed him four eggs, a bowl and a whisk. He started breaking them.

“If my schedule clears up, maybe.” He doubted his father would encourage the idea. He’d repeated that Agreste men were soloists enough times that Adrien sometimes heard it in his dreams; and unlike fencing, basketball was a team sport.

“Oh, right. Of course.” Marinette nodded. She hesitated to probe further; on the one hand, she was curious about what her partner was up to outside of their duties; it was difficult to probe how he was holding up, sometimes. On the other hand, she was afraid of learning too much about him. She decided to change the subject. “Could you gradually add the eggs to this while I mix?”

“Of course!” He cleared his throat. “These really aren’t hard to make, could you write the recipe down for me so I can make them again at home?” This was going to make great patrol snacks. He was sure Ladybug would appreciate them.

“Yep, no problem!” She finished stirring the ingredients together and pulled out a baking tray and two piping bags. She poked around for greaseproof paper while Chat filled the latter with the batter, before remembering that her parents had mentioned that they’d ran out over dinner.

“Hmm, this isn’t the most traditional way, but we’ll put some flour on the tray and then pipe the chouquettes directly on it. Would you mind taking care of that while I get the sugar?”

Chat nodded, grabbing the bag. He started sprinkling the surface, reaching in the packet every so often. It made the flour fly out a little, tickling his nose. He scrunched it, trying to get rid of the sensation, but it was no use.

He turned away from the tray and prepared to sneeze, instinctively putting the hand that still contained flour in front of his nose… Just as Marinette came back next to him.

“Achoo!” White powder flew everywhere, and Marinette jumped back.

“Ew, Chat!” She exclaimed, quickly dusting it off of her.

“I’m so sorry!” His eyes widened and he bit his lower lip, trying to contain his smile at her bewildered face. He had to admit, white hair looked nice on Marinette.

How cute , Marinette thought, before mentally slapping herself. No matter how true the statement was, it wasn’t helping at all. She reached for the packet and threw a fistful of flour at him to distract herself.

“Hey!”

“An eye for an eye!” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Is it really, though? I didn’t do it on purr-pose,” he said as his eyes landed on the flour packet.

Marinette started backing away, seeing exactly where he was going. “Now, now, no need to be rash about this, remember, we still have to cook the chou- eek!” She started running around the kitchen island as Chat sprung into a chase.

“Come back here, you little scoundrel!”

“Chat please! Think about your poor stomach!” She switched direction as Chat did the same.

“It can wait.” He grinned, gracefully leaping over the island.

Marinette squeaked again as she jumped out of his way, but found herself stuck between two shelving units. Chat approached her slowly, his devilish smile getting wider as the distance between them vanished. He pulled a fistful of flour out of the bag, and she felt her heart beat faster in her chest. Not just because of the imminent threat.

“I’m sorry Chat, I shouldn’t have done that…” She trailed off, backing herself further against the wall. “But this is going to make a mess, think about the clean up…” She pleaded.

Chat paused, his fist above her head losing a bit of its contents. She blinked slowly. Cat kisses, he thought. His eyes flickered to her lips. He wondered what it’d be like to kiss her, for real. He dared not go down that route.

“You’re right.” He shook his head, and brought his arm down, releasing the flour he’d been holding in the packet. “If I’m going to make a mess…” He paused, taking a small step back, and Marinette sighed in relief. “Better do it right.” He lifted the packet and emptied it all on her head.

“What the-” Marinette spluttered out, starting to get rid of it. She heard Chat laugh as he watched her, without so much as offering his help.

“Say cheese!” She was suddenly blinded by a flashing light, and her head shot up.

“Sorry, had to immortalise the moment.” Chat grinned, showing her the picture on his baton.

She glowered at him, and he moved out of her reach, just in case she decided to retaliate.

“You can’t be mad at me, I’m the birthday boy!”

She rolled her eyes, the hint of a smile forming on her lips as she finished dusting off most of the flour from her clothes and went to fetch the broom. Little did he know, she couldn’t be mad at him at all, since, A, she supposed that she’d been in the wrong in the first place, and B, it was him . Not that she’d admit it out loud, though. “I guess you’re right. You’d better hurry up making the chouquettes, then, else I’m putting you on broom duty.”

Chat happily complied.

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As he left Marinette’s house, a full packet of warm Chouquettes in hand (he’d made his choice between it and the blanket), he had to admit to himself that even though he hadn’t accomplished his goal, it didn’t really matter.

There’d be plenty of other opportunities to talk to her, and he couldn’t say no to the opportunity of having fun; they were too rare an occurrence to pass up on.

#flour scene sponsored by that fic i started writing years ago and never finished :')#marichatmay2021 #marichat may #miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #marichat #marinette dupain-cheng #chat noir #day 10: cooking together #elle writes #love you (too)

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narcissasdaffodil · 3 years

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Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work!

Thanks for the tag @kiki-the-creator ! I’m likely going to ramble, so bear with me! There’s multiple creations I haven’t put in the wild as of yet, so I’m just doing stuff I’ve posted on either here or A03.

1: Love Can Be Chosen

Before I started LCBC, unless you count the fic collab I’m part of, I hadn’t written any fanfic in 5 years. I started LCBC at the end of July, and teaching myself how to write properly again was difficult, along with writing in my natural style without being judged for that. I stopped writing entirely due to a high amount of people being very critical of my work to the point I lost the love for writing. I never thought I’d ever get back into it either, so this is a considerable surprise.

Just as I was going to post my first chapter of LCBC, someone I’d asked to read it for me was critical of it to the point that it seriously hurt, and it went past general consecutive criticism. Telling someone that their grammar is dreadful and there’s major errors without pointing to said errors is hardly useful! For 2 days, I toyed with whether to post it or not, or if they were actually right, and I should stop writing again. I pushed through that, as I refuse to let just one person have such an impact on me. Besides, it’s only an issue one person has, and I have multiple beta readers anyway. The fact I pushed through that makes me proud in general, as I proved both myself and that person wrong.

LCBC means the world to me as it helped me gain back my love of writing. I’ve come on a lot in nearly 5 months, and I’ve found myself writing more personal stuff to me. The fact it’s so big will always wow me, my doc for it currently stands at 166k, I affectionately nickname it my fic monster. I originally called it What’s a Soulmate?, then needed a better title. It was completely unplanned, I put my Spotify on shuffle, then Love Can Be Chosen played and I had a serious brainwave. People aren’t likely to know the song itself, but it’s by Avia Butler if you’re interested! I’ll ramble about it for ages if I let myself, so I’ll cut this here.

2: this Lottie edit

I hated this style of edit for a while, as people kept asking for these edits on my Instagram for other fandoms and literally nothing else, so I was a little fed up of doing the same thing. But it was different when I wanted to make an edit like that one myself, not having people be overly pushy rocks! I absolutely adore having control of what I edit.

3: Another Lottie edit

This one is a new style, but I really, really love it! My best stuff gets made when it’s me who wants it, I went through a period of creating just to get validation, and that was majorly shitty. My other favourite edit in this style hasn’t been posted yet, but for something made on a whim, it’s pretty good! I took a small break from editing and gave myself a talking to, basically told myself that it’s okay to make stuff you want, and not constantly concede to others, especially when the end product makes you feel worse about yourself. In addition, I no longer depend on creative pursuits for happiness, sure I enjoy it, but I don’t base everything about myself on my creative abilities.

4: this oneshot!

I was nervous to write this one, never having written hurt/comfort before. But I fell head over heels in love with the thing. Deciding to do Flufftober was an awesome decision, great job October me! I’ve tried out multiple types of fics I wouldn’t have otherwise, and found a new love for writing fluff.

5: Could You Be my Friend?

This oneshot took two goes. The first go was seriously dreadful, to the point that I was so angry at myself for 2 days straight, which isn’t healthy in the slightest! Anything that causes that much rage in me of all people isn’t a good thing. I stay far away from stuff that provoke my anxiety or anger in general. This one is a HP/LITG crossover, Harry Potter used to majorly be my thing years ago. It’s not as much now, for a multitude of reasons. Because of that also, the LITG/HP fic collab isn’t my thing as much anymore. But I had an itch to scratch regarding Marilecto and a HP au, so I took the prompt competition as the perfect excuse to just chuck it out there. Writing this one was so hard, but once I’d got halfway through my second oneshot, I was good.

6: Cold Coffee

This one was my first ever Marilecto oneshot, and my first oneshot in general, so it’s special for those reasons. I’ve likely written better stuff since, but that one was pretty special to me, as writing it proved to me I could write more than just chunky fics.

7: It Would’ve Been You

This one was part of my uni AU series. My flatmates have alternated between great and challenging, and a good way to not let it get me down was writing about bits and pieces of it!

8: Leftover Sweets

This one was super unexpected to say the least, but I actually love it. I wrote it in 2 hours between 1-3am one night and woke up confused as there was a random oneshot hanging out in my docs, and I didn’t remember writing it! It did scare me a little, but once I reread the thing, I realised I was actually pretty proud of it.

Okay, I’m tagging @lucas-koh @americangrunge, @venueska and @bubblybabynailpolish I have absolutely no clue who’s already done this, so if you want to, feel free to tag me! And if you’ve done it already, oops!

#tag games #Fave works of 2020

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biconicfinn · 4 years

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id like to know, what are your takes on politician!Alec? if you want to talk about that

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK!!!!! POLITICIAN ALEC IS MY FUCKING JAM DJKABVHJKDBVKADVBFAV okay anon strap in because this will get crazy

holy shit this is long so i’m putting it under a read more!!

okay so first of all: alec is someone who has been trained from a young age to be a politician, he would have been educated in diplomacy and politics, his parents were expecting him to become head of the new york institute and they have no qualms about living vicariously through their children and forcing their burdens on them as we have seen in the show.

he was probably taught clave law and the accords, a whole bunch of languages (polyglot power couple malec ftw) because i assume the NYI uses english as their lingua franca because of their location but since institutes also have to deal with local downworld and mundane populations it’s safe to assume that in other countries where english isn’t the main language, they go with the local languages and alec would need to communicate with these other institute heads, etiquette, some formal ballroom dances like the waltz, the art of negotiation, administrative stuff like resource allocation, budgeting, public speaking, the nitty gritty details of the clave workings, in addition to the knowledge of the different races of the shadow world, hand to hand combat, combat with a variety of weapons (he masters archery to utter perfection but he definitely is also incredibly proficient in close range combat as well).

sorry i just love alec and he is definitely more competent than most of the Alec StansTM (yall know what im saying) make him out to be

okay so!!!!! it’s pretty much canon that alec has spent a considerable amount of time as acting head of the NYI; what with maryse and robert always fucking off to idris to lick the boots of the clave and so he probably has a good relationship with the people under his command. he’s probably put protocols in place to reduce casualties and injuries, form patrol teams that are well-balanced so that they are versatile enough to take just about any threat that comes their way, etc.

of course, thanks to a little thing called the nephilim’s deep-rooted homophobia, a lot of the work alec put in probably got negated when he came out. it took a lot of courage for him to come out and to be openly gay. raj was an absolute asshole to alec for no reason and often questioned his leadership decisions post coming out, and even if not all the shadowhunters reacted like that, they did show some resistance(?) to alec’s leadership when he was appointed head and questioned him. it probably took a lot out of him because it’s one thing to have your people doubt you as a leader because of your actions or words; your decisions as a leader, it’s another thing for them to mistrust you entirely because of a fundamental part of your identity that you can’t change. you can build trust by publicly admitting and apologising for mistakes and putting in honest work to be better, but it’s impossible to build trust when the other person doesn’t even see you as human to begin with.

this is turning into a hoti!alec ramble but i promise i will bring this back to politician!alec okay i promise i just need to establish the headcanons i’m building on first sorry

okay back to business!!!! i feel like alec is so very genuine and honest outside of the political sphere alec “casual wedding vows” lightwood anyone? so when he does show his ability to be a complete fucking shark in the political arena a lot of people are blindsided because they expected him to be very honest and direct but he knows that as much as he’d like to be genuine, he needs that shrewdness to navigate the political minefield of idris. he prefers directness, but if you take the manipulative, indirect, route and underestimate him, he will not hesitate to turn your own methods against you.

he is also the type of leader who constantly tries to make an effort. his intentions were genuine with the downworld cabinet and i think that if it wasn’t set up in the middle of the shitstorm which was valentine’s re-emergence and the circle’s rise, it would have been more successful. he has a lot to learn and unlearn, and he (an utter perfectionist) will do as much as he can to help the downworld. i like to think that in a post s3 world, but before the time skip, he helps to re-establish the ties between the shadow world factions in new york and focuses on being the nephilim voice of the downworld to the clave, constantly trying to push for new accords and reformed policies, and he makes an effort to not speak over the downworlders, but instead be their representative and ally to the clave because the clave are racist bastards who wouldn’t listen to them but they have to listen to alec lightwood (”it’s lightwood-bane, actually”), one of the heroes who stepped up to defend alicante when the rift to edom opened. (and also because if they did try to slander or belittle him, they risk angering magnus, who has enough clout to embargo most warlocks from providing magical assistance to any local institutes, if he feels that the downworld is being ignored despite the fact that a warlock is the sole reason why alicante was’t razed to the ground, or that he and his husband are being targeted by the clave. because they are That Couple.) in conclusion alec is a good ally okay?

but as much as he tries/tried to do right by the clave, he sometimes also doesn’t give a fuck about them. he’ll be in meetings at idris, and maybe they’re discussing asinine, irrelevant, minor issues that are really just stupid excuses to showboat and compare family clout and whatnot and he’ll be pissed as fuck because instead of discussing actual relevant issues like irregularities/strange patterns in demon attacks, hunting down remaining circle sleeper cells, reparations for the downworld (like for the heavenly fire project), rewriting the accords, rebuilding idris, helping get the attacked institutes back up and running, you know, actual important issues that need attention but no, we’re discussing some petty family squabble that turned into a political feud that involves everyone and their fucking uncle. and he gets so damn angry he just blows up and rants at them and tears them a new one. he finishes his impressively long spiel with “you know what? fuck this. when you guys are done fighting like children and taking up precious time that we should be using to talk about real, pressing issues that affect the entire shadow world instead of five people at this table, let me know and i’ll be there but until then don’t bother. if you’ll excuse me, i’m going back to my husband. thank you. and for the last damn time, my name is alec lightwood-bane. i already changed my damn name legally so fucking use it.” and he just leaves to go back to new york because fuck the clave.

he goes back home to the loft and it’s like the stress and anger just melts away because he walks in on magnus dancing around the kitchen as he cooks dinner, singing dancing queen at the top of his lungs, laughing when magnus twirls to see him leaning against the doorway of the kitchen with his heart eyes and blushes at being caught doing somethin so silly

he becomes a successful inquisitor by sheer force of will and determination. it’s not at all intentional, but it just happens. with the success of the cabinet and the measures he puts in place, he shares it with other institute heads and slowly more and more institutes are collaborating with the local downworld and most of the time, the statistics pay off in the long run. there are starting troubles as with any new initiatives, but soon enough there is a sizeable number of institutes following them successfully and it’s hard for the clave to ignore. alec gets invited to alicante to discuss the possibility of him becoming inquisitor just when the downworld deputy program is taking off in new york. (it all starts with simon asking “so are you guys nephilim or shadowhunters? what’s the difference? or is it interchangeable?” and then they realise that while nephilim is a term to describe half-angel half-human beings, shadowhunter is a term more commonly used by active duty demon hunters and drops out of use as a self-descriptor when the nephilim in question leaves combat. “so that means technically anyone in the shadow world whose job it is to fight demons is a shadowhunter? right?” and the lightbulbs light up in alec’s head immediately) oops time to get back to it the point.

okay so!!!! the clave offer alec the position of inquisitor and it’s part recognition for his efforts and acknowledgement of his skills, part them wanting to keep him under their control. how does that work? well it’s simple. if alec is inquisitor and the clave makes it as hard as possible for him to do any effective work, bogging him down with bureaucracy and and votes on motions that are just shy of the majority needed to pass laws etc etc. basically throw every road block they can at him and wear him down; forcing him to step down and thus silencing him, and by extension, the downworlders who rely on him for a voice in the clave.

malec side note: so they first say that magnus can come to alicante and make an exception for him, and the general plan is to make it look like they’re actually doing something good when it’s to lull them into a false sense of security. (but alec and magnus choose to live in brooklyn first because despite everything, it is still dangerous for magnus to be the only warlock in a city full of nephilim) but then alicante opens up to the rest of the shadow world, magnus becomes the high warlock of alicante, and the clave are dealing with the force of nature that is known power couple and ultimate badasses magnus and alec lightwood-bane. oops.

but they underestimate the power of alec’s Lightwood(-Bane) DeterminationTM and his sheer stubbornness. so their plan backfires spectacularly when within the first few years, he’s implemented laws to open alicante up to downworlders, expunge criminal records of downworlders who were previously wrongfully charged with crimes, rehabilitation of wrongfully imprisoned downworlders, mandatory downworld cabinet and downworld deputy initiatives worldwide, as well as be part of the core group that rewrote the accords to be more fair.

alec probably retires after like five years of being inquisitor and then magnus steps down as high warlock and they just travel the world together and be in love and happy, occasionally consulting on political issues here and there but for the most part they just run off into the sunset to be immortal husbands together because they’ve sacrificed enough for the good of the shadow world to last several lifetimes.

#skyrambles #skygetsasks #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #thank you for the ask anon!!! (although im like 99% sure i know who you are skbskbshfbsfh)#Anonymous

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crushzone · 4 years

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🎬 About Me

Original art of me and my fictional hubby, Ukai Keishin, by @achieve-the-sun, posted with permission. 💕

Hi there!

My name is Nin and I am the founder of Crushzone Cinema Theater. 📽 🍿

🎬 THE BASICS

Age: 23

Birthday: December 24th

Pronoun: She/her

Education: Graduated with a dual degree in Film and Global History

Occupation: Is currently a film freelancer in the camera department, who desperately needs money to pay rent every month lol.

Likes:

- The sound of rain tapping on my window

- Watching my plants rise and droop to the moving sun

- Cooking and experimenting with different cuisines; Japanese, Thai and Chinese are some of my favorites.

- Giving my husband and my cat their head rubs every night.

- Drawing, painting, and photography. (Here’s some of my works!)

- The feeling of accomplishment after you’ve gone through SO much for a project with your peers. To work on your own movie or short film, and finally seeing it done, is such a rewarding experience.

- To eat my Mac and Cheese with ketchup, nutritional yeast, and steamed broccoli. (Fight me lol. 🦖 )

- Eating chips with chopsticks.

- Medjool dates with a spoonful of crunchy peanut butter 😋

-Wearing oversized clothes, especially hoodies.

- Sitting at my reading nook, with my cat next to me on the chair.

Dislikes:

- The buzzing sound bees make when they fly.

- Slipping on my own chunk of hair on the ground; I have a lot of hair and I shed a lot.

- The heat, I may be from Thailand, but I am very much done with the blaring heat. One second I’ll look real cute with my face all done up, but the moment I step out, it’s already melting from my face.

- Going to sleep; there’s SO much more I could be doing right now!

- When my bangs desperately need a trim and is poking my eyes.

- Poor lighting, doesn’t matter if it is real life, just light it like you’re IN a film!! It’s so much more dramatic that way! (For real, come to my house, every corner is lit with some sort of a look/mood 😏)

- Loud noises; when people are yelling all the time, or something is loud, I get nervous when I can’t hear my own thoughts.

- People with bad attitude, a temper, or is just kind of mean in general. There is absolutely no excuse for you to be that way, and nothing productive comes out of it. Nuh-uh.

🎬 FUN FACTS

My parents hired a piano teacher when I was in elementary school, but because I didn’t enjoy her company (for some reason), I refused to absorb information. Little did I know, it would backfire me and would have absolutely no effect to her pay.

I’m that kid who always has 4 spare pencils and 5 erasers to lend out to my peers.

Will serenade to my cat every morning and night, so if you are ever my roommate, I apologize for my horrible singings.

Performed as a cave and pot in my high school production, and lemme tell ya, it is more difficult than it sounds.

Has no problem doing laundry in the morning, but the moment the sun falls, I will be too afraid to go down into my basement to do it. Some may say that it is an excuse for me to put laundry off for the next day, but I always tell my husband that there’s a “Babadook” in there. 👀

One time I stepped on a millipede, and I cried for 2 days because I felt really bad for it.

I’m actually VERY shy most of the times, so if you see me laughing a lot like a hyena, then it’s likely that it’s just me being awkward. OR I may just be having a good time, who knows.

I’m awful around kids, I am SO awkward and will stiff up like a rock (if you see me doing that, pls come safe me). One time this kid asked me why I laugh so much, so I simply just laughed some more while backing out of the room slowly. 🤦‍♀️

🎬 SOME FUN QUESTIONS!

What is something you wish you were gifted at doing?

I wish I could sing. My husband is a musician, and it looks like he’s having so much fun. There’s just something so freeing about it, as if it’s another language that takes time to become fluent in, but when you are, it’s so captivating and expressive. I don’t think I’m an awful singer, but is just too incredibly shy to sing in front of others.

What is the first movie you remember seeing in theater?

It may had been Disney’s Dinosaur (2000), not sure. All I remember was that there were a bunch of dinosaurs on screen, may had even been 3D with those glasses.

At one point, a tiger jumped at the screen, and I started crying. My mom and brother wanted to finish the movie, so my dad had to sit outside with me, until it was over. It was chill tho, my dad was teaching me different dinosaur names. 👶 🦖 🦕

What is the first thing you do when you get home?

Pants off, baby!! I don’t usually wear a bra, but if do, then I guess it’s bra’s off first. Then I instantly hop into my plaid boxer shorts hehee. 🤭

What has been the hardest thing for you to face or learn?

That people go through different stages of their life at different paces, and that is totally okay. When I was younger, I would always overwork, and as a result, I don’t really have a lot of time for myself. I did that, mostly, because I wanted to get a head start at everything, especially at my career. Now that I am 23-24, and had just graduated from Class of 2019, I’ve been getting film gigs since I was a sophomore, and is now a full time freelancer.

Yet, I was not satisfied, because I got to work with a 21 y/o in a position that was under her, and it made me feel momentarily incompetent; like I wasn’t doing well enough. But it will never be enough if that’s the mindset; I never considered that she skipped university and went straight into film, so circumstances were entirely different.

Meanwhile, there’s someone 10+ years older than me who is struggling to get the work I’d get, and that is okay too. What I should’ve done is feel happy for her, and use that to motivate myself to improve. As long as I never give up, and continue to do my best with a good attitude, everything will be just fine.

If you could give your younger self any advice what would it be?

That it’s okay to take a break sometimes, live life a little, and cherish all the happiness, sadness, heartbreak, and struggles that you are going through right now. Every tear will make you stronger, and genuine every smile will eventually pull you through.

Time goes by very quickly, and every stage in your life is a part of you, so make sure you remember how you get to where you are well.

Do you see the glass as half empty or half full?

Half full, just grateful that there’s any liquid in the glass at all, and is excited to acquire more with all the space I’ve got on top, ya know? 🤷‍♀️

What is the strangest thing you believed as a child?

That if you whistle at night, the ghosts will come find you. Or if you play hide and seek at night, then you’ve opened up some kind of portal that the ghosts will kidnap you away from this dimension forever.

Tbh, I think my grandma was just sick of me trying to learn how to whistle when I was in elementary school and of me running around the house at night, so she made these omen up lol.

What time do you usually get up in the morning?

Used to wake up at 13:00-14:00 all the time, but since I married an early bird, I’ve been up at 6:30-7:00 lately.

What time is your usual bed time?

Heeheee 1:00-2:00 in the morning, oops.

How has your birth order/characteristics of siblings affected you?

I have the loveliest older brother in the world, he’s 4 years older, and is very smart, diligent, athletic, and funny. Me being the only daughter, my parents are incredibly protective, so they’d always have my brother do everything for me.

It was a relief when I was younger, but as I enter high school, it became a little frustrating; I felt like I was living under his shadows and can never be considered independent. They’d also spend a lot more time training with him cuz he’s a national competitive swimmer.

Because of that, I had a lot of time to myself, so I experimented with my own interests and grew in my own way. As I’ve grown, I can definitely say that it’s made me a lot more independent and introverted haha. I absolutely dislike depending on anyone (Will be my last resort), but it’s also nice to know that whenever either of us fall, we’ll always have each other’s back.

#tag games with Nin 🎮

Learn even more about me through various tag games I participated!✌️

#chats with Nin

My previous responses, rambles, vibe checks, and many more!

And please drop by my ask box and chit chat, I love interacting with you all! 👋

>>> Back to Ticket Booth Navigation 🎟

#about me #navigation #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! writer #writer #get to know the author #get to know the writer #get to know me #fun facts #questions #introduction

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voodoosgirl1 · 4 years

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Ramblings about Marvel and Being Creative (and Avoidant)

I've been reading Marvel comics for longer than I care to admit. I've always taken stories and dreamed beyond what was written on the page or shown on the screen, so expanding on the fundamental "canon" was always something I entertained. Still, I never wrote it down or looked for approval or engagement from the original authors. I just loved the story and wanted it to go on, I wanted more, and my imagination started to run.

It was only natural I thought to dream and imagine and eventually write beyond what Marvel gave me/us. I enjoyed what they produced, and wanted more, wanted my vision of those characters for myself. I never expected Marvel or any other author, whether it's Neil Gaiman or JKR or Frank Herbert, to approve, disapprove, contribute, sanction, or even know about what I dreamed up on my own. Although in some ways, my continuing the stories is a compliment to their seminal work. I may disagree with their direction, but somehow in their work (Marvel specifically for me), they gave me a spark of a thing enticing and wonderful that demanded expansion. Ultimately, they started it.

Needless to say, the direction taken by Marvel last year was big-time disappointing to me personally, but I can live with it. I don't agree, but given the number of comic versions of these characters that exist, the MCU is just another Alternate Universe. One version of many versions of Captain America, for example. So my interpretation is equally as valid as theirs, I don't get to roll out a million glossy graphic novels or a billion-dollar movie LOL. That's fine by me, I've got a day job, it pays well, and I'm blessed with health insurance.

Here is the thing that bugs me the most. It's how Marvel went out of their way to trash us/me for going in my/our own direction. How in every article and interview and promo they continue to trash our/my vision of these characters. It reminds me of being a kid: You make a thing, a sandcastle, or a snow fort or some fine work of art that you shed some sweat and poured your heart and soul into it, and some A-hole kicks it apart and mocks your creation—Cue Scot Farkus (A Christmas Story, watch it...great movie).

Marvel and those that buy into their one vision can't just leave it alone. They have theirs; I have mine, let's agree to disagree and not trash one another. I said my piece a year ago and dropped it. Their movie is JUST ONE AU out of millions. But instead of celebrating that diversity (oops, there's the word), they stomp on it. Insult it, laugh at it. It's the bully mentality that is rampant right now. Mock what you don't understand, shove and push and crush what doesn't fit your narrative. It's such a reflection of what is happening in the US (and world-wide) right now. Kill what doesn't look exactly like you. Crazy times.

I keep asking myself (not that much I have a life) Why does Marvel hate so many of their fans? Why mock them? What makes them so nervous? Fear is really at the core of all bullying behavior. What is rocking their world so hard they felt the need to crush fans of Stucky or Thorki or anyone who doesn’t flatout agree with their specific view? (Rhetorical question. I've got a pretty good guess as to what's at the heart of their disdain.)

Well, I am rambling now. Sorry.

I want to love my characters as I see them and let others do the same. Live and let live and write and dream and create.

I keep thinking about Ed Brubaker, the brain-child of Bucky Barnes' return to life in the comics (We lovers of Bucky owe him our homage.) He read the death of Bucky in the Captain America comics years ago when he was a kid (age 10 or 12?) He didn't like the ending, so he rewrote it. Repeating this in all caps. HE DIDN'T LIKE THE ENDING SO HE REWROTE IT. As a teenager. His vision eventually made it into the pages of Marvel, and Bucky came back to life. One could even say his "FANFICTION" brought us Bucky again. I take encouragement from that all the time. Not that I'd ever write for Marvel (or want to), but he had a vision and went for it. (And yes, he is from a privileged group that's another rant for sure, but he dared to see it differently.)

Okay, I've rambled enough. I am avoiding writing the next chapter of my version of Steve and Bucky. The one that makes me happy and satisfied. No offense to Marvel. I am going in another direction.

I likely will delete this since it's long and pointless except to make me put my thoughts on a page. Appreciate the space to do this.

Stay safe, wear a mask, wash your hands. Give the kindness you want to receive.

💜❤️️💜

#fanfiction writer #antimarvel #stucky #writer ramblings #daydreamer #peak avoidant behavior #why does marvel hate us so much

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ladyboltontoyou · 5 years

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Arthur Morgan x Reader: Farmer’s Daughter

Ask: Ok well I was wondering if you could write an Arthur Morgan x Reader where the reader is the daughter of a rich farm owning family and Arthur rides up to the farm/ranch one day to scope the place out and see if they're easy to rob but somehow ends up with heart eyes for the reader and starts sneaking around to see her. Doesn't have to be smut, but that would be awesome. Thank you!

Warnings: Probably cursing. A bit of an age gap since Arthur is, you know, like 30 something, and the reader is still living with her parents.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

A/N: So this turned out longer than I had originally planned oops. ALso apparently freezers were invented around the 1830′s so don’t come at me for having ice cubes in Arthurs drink ok. I really hope this is what you imagined and it doesn’t seem rushed, even though I spent like 4 hours on it. Hope it’s not too short or too long. OKAY I’M DONE RAMBLING YOU CAN READ NOW.

The last thing you expected to see on a Friday afternoon was a stranger on a white horse riding up your dirt road. You had been reading a book on your upstairs balcony when you saw him, at first just a small white speck a ways away. But when that white speck started making noise you looked up and saw it was a man on a horse, a visitor. You rarely got visitors here that weren’t two men on a wagon full of supplies.

You set your book down on the table and leaned forward to get a better look as he neared the front of your house. He looked handsome enough, even though you were on the second story balcony and he was on the ground below. From what you could see he was a rugged man about thirty or so, not the kind of men your parents usually dealt with. Your curiosity got the best of you and you walked back inside and downstairs where you saw your father opening the front doors. One of his work friends stood beside him in case things were to go south, his hand sitting comfortably on his pistol as a gentle warning to the stranger that stood on your porch.

“Sorry to bother you folks, I was looking for the Braithwaite manor and it looks like I got myself lost. Do you know whereabouts that is?” His voice sounded so friendly and warm, you would never expect that he was there to see if you would be easy to ransack. You watched the conversation go down from the bottom step of the staircase and tried not to look too obvious.

Your father was totally oblivious and way too trusting. “No worries friend, these back roads are tricky. Fancy a drink? You look like you’ve been riding all day. Come inside and I’ll have my wife draw you up some directions.”

The man looked hesitant but eventually shrugged. “You’re too kind. I’d really appreciate it.”

You took the chance to walk into the tea room since you knew they’d come inside any minute, and you didn’t want to look suspicious. Plus, you wanted to be nosey, it wasn’t often attractive strangers came by. You sat down at the table and picked up the book from the table, something you had already read before, and tried your best to look as if you had been doing it for some time already.

“Who’s that man outside?” Your mother had snuck up behind you and scared the daylights out of you when she leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I don’t know.” You said after you recovered from the scare. “But he sure is good looking.”

She peaked at the front door and nodded in approval at your taste. “You’re not wrong about that.” Thank god it was your mother and not your grandmother, she would have chided you for hours about being indecent.

Finally, they came in and the man took off his hat, looking around as his eyes adjusted to the change of light. He looked even better looking close up. His facial hair was trimmed neatly but looked like it had grown in a little, the hair on his head the same. His face was partially spotted from the dust in the air from horse hooves but he didn’t look truly dirty, nothing compared to your farmboys.

He looked around and seemed impressed with the place, his eyes looking into every room he could see from his spot. When he looked into the room your father began walking into, the tea room, he only spared you a short glance.

Alright, well, you weren’t used to that. Most men who saw you immediately started complimenting your parents on how gorgeous you were, praising you and never failing to remark some version of ‘You’ll make a wonderful wife/Someone a very happy husband/Beautiful children’. But he didn’t say a thing.

“Darling, would you be so kind as to draw some directions from here to Braithwaite manor? Our friend here has gotten lost.” Your father asked your mother who smiled and obliged, heading upstairs to get some paper. “Oh! I didn’t even see you there!” He said when he noticed you sitting on the couch. “Could you bring our guest some tea?”

The stranger looked at you and looked like he was about to decline and tell you not to worry yourself but you were already standing up. “Sure thing daddy, need anything else?” You asked sweetly with a smile.

Your father looked to the man who just shook his head and tried to say ‘I’m fine’ and ‘No thank you’ at the same time. “No, I’m, thank you,” He jumbled over his words and looked visibly embarrassed. “I’m alright.”

You smiled widely, amused by that. He looked away and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Your father paid no mind and led him to the couch, talking about how harsh the month had been with no rain at all.

When you got back from the kitchen with a glass of tea he looked up and accepted the glass from you happily, muttering a ‘thanks’ before he almost chugged the entire thing, even chewing on some of the ice. Your mother came down the stairs with a piece of paper in hand and one of your nice fountain pens in the other.

“You’ll have to excuse my writing, I’m not the best artist.” She joked and sat on the single chair across from the couch. “You should have told our artist here to do it instead, she could draw him the best map he’d ever laid his eyes on.” She joked and you tried not to let them see how bashful she made you. She always bragged about you and anything you did, you could draw something purposefully awful and she would still treat it like a priceless painting.

“Oh it’s alright, I’m sure I’ll manage.” He chuckled, taking more ice into his mouth.

You sat down on the other side of the couch and watched the man from the corner of your eye. He looked around the house while his jaw moved to chew the ice as if he was taking note of every single window and door. “Say, you folks-”

Your mother sighed in frustration, putting two fingers on her forehead in exasperation. “I’m sorry, I can barely draw a line. Darling, could you please?” She slid the paper across the table and gave you a sweet look.

“I’ll try.” You laughed and leaned down, taking the pen from her.

“What were you saying?” Your father asked from his seat and the man looked confused before he remembered.

“I was just going to ask if you knew of some good people to hire for security. Assuming those men at the end of the road are what I’m thinkin’ they are.”

“Yes, they work for a man named Michael, he hires men that used to be in the war and sells their services to those who can afford it.” Your father said proudly. Arthur just nodded.

“Here’s the house.” You said to the man as you drew a small house next to the scribbles your mother had done. He scooted closer to you carefully and watched as you drew. “And here’s the road. The corn fields are on the right, the tobacco on the left.” You kept talking as you drew and tried to focus on moving the pen instead of how close he was to you. His body heat radiated off of him and grazed your bare arm and neck, you could hear him breathing slowly. He smelt like smoke and day-old cologne mixed with the leather from his coat.

As you gave him directions he would never need Arthur felt morality tug at his heartstrings. You were such good people, welcoming him into your home and showing such hospitality. He would have to tell Dutch there was no way, there were too many workers and guards, he would make something up. He came expecting a snooty rich family but was caught off guard by good people. You all had the generosity, kindness, and respect of poor folk.

When you finished you slid the map over on the table. “Let it sit for a minute before you touch it, the ink’s still wet.” You warned and put the cap back on the pen. “Especially here.” You laughed softly and pointed at the words of his destination where you had spelled it wrong the first time and scratched it out.

He nodded and muttered an ‘alright’, looking at you from a side glance. Your father talked for a while about the people who lived in the manor, not being shy about his opinion. Arthur couldn’t have agreed more but he kept up his facade and played dumb.

“It’s dry now.” You said and Arthur looked away from your father. You were looking at the paper so he took the chance to actually look at you, unintentionally admiring you. Normally he was good about keeping his eyes where they belonged. If there was anyone who respected women it was Arthur, but it was hard not to appreciate your beauty. He figured your sweetness was the only reason he stared. It had been a while since he saw a sweet girl who wasn’t trying to pickpocket him or get him to spend a fortune in the saloon.

“Thank you.” He picked up the paper and admired your work. One of the few things he could really appreciate was art. You drew so effortlessly, the small roads and hills looked like the maps he’d seen the professionals sell. “Well, I reckon I better be on my way, I’ve taken up too much of your time.”

“Not at all.” Your father stood up and so did the stranger. They shook hands as he thanked your father who shook him off and pat his back a few times. “You sure there’s nothing else we could do for you?”

“You’ve done more than enough.” He promised and looked back to you and your mother, the paper held gently in his hands. “Thank you both for your hospitality. And for the map.” He held up the paper and you smiled, causing him to unknowingly do the same.

When he started walking out the door with your father you ran upstairs and almost fell off your balcony to watch him ride off. The hot wind hit your face when you reached the banister, just in time to watch him ride off. He put his hat back on and took one last look behind him, not failing to notice the beautiful young girl watching him leave.

***

The frogs and crickets sang while the fireflies lit the black air with soft pulsating gold. You were on your banister half reading a book and half watching the farmboys work in the fields below, their lanterns bobbing gently through the rows of plants, stopping occasionally to pull up weeds or a dead plant.

It was hard to read. It was stupid to even try. But there was nothing else to do to take your mind off of your thoughts, even though reading wasn’t doing a good job at that. At least it was something.

A dog barking in the distance made you set your book down. It was the dogs they kept up at the end of the road to warn when someone was coming. You waited a minute to see if they would calm down but they didn’t. You heard your father yell downstairs to the men at the end of the road, and they responded with something about deer in the woods.

You believed it for a moment until you heard rattling from the other side of your balcony. The first thing that came to mind was some kind of greasy gunslinging bastard but before you could start screaming two arms hooked over the side of the ledge, covered by that same damn leather jacket you had been so close to earlier.

It shouldn’t have made you feel any better considering his original intentions were to rob your family for everything they had. But for some reason you had a feeling he wasn’t a threat to you. That made you incredibly stupid and naive but thankfully, for once, you were right in this situation.

When he finally pulled himself over he looked surprised to see you standing there watching him. “Now, before you start screaming,” He said as he reached up to grab the lantern that hung above him. “I’m not here to hurt you or anything like that.” He blew out the small flame and the two of you were suddenly surrounded by darkness.

“Then why are you here?” You asked cautiously. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him again, but the last thing you expected was this. If anyone saw him your father's politeness would be out the window as well as Arthur.

He sighed as if he didn’t know why himself. “You been on my mind girl, and I don’t know why. I don’t know why my dumbass thought it would be a good idea to risk not only my ass but yours, just to come back up here and ask for your name.”

You covered your mouth to stifle that bubbled in your throat. “Truly? That’s why?”

Arthur laughed softly, shaking his head when he realized how ridiculous it was. “I suppose so. And I wanted to ask for another one of those hundred-dollar drawings you make.”

You laughed again and put your fingers on the bottom lip you held between your teeth. “Oh yeah? Was my map that good?”

He grinned and looked down at his boots, kicking them against the floor to kick some pebbles loose from the bottoms. He couldn’t believe how young he felt then, like he was only sixteen again flirting around with the farmer's daughter. The only thing different from that was he was much, much, much older. If the other men in the gang saw him they’d make fun of him till the day he died for sneaking around for a girl.

“Well, okay, I guess I can make you something.” You smiled while biting your lip. He put on a show of acting grateful, clasping his hands together and placing them in front of his forehead. When you recovered from quiet laughter you went into your room to get some paper and a pencil. You made sure both your doors were locked before you went back onto your dark balcony. You stopped in the open doorway, noticing how little you could see. There was no way you could draw anything out there unless a lantern was lit, but that would be too bright and anyone nearby would be able to see the two of you. “I can’t see out here, maybe we should go in my room.”

He was reluctant for a minute, considering how fast he’d be able to run and jump out the balcony if need be. “Yeah, sure.” He sighed and walked towards the doors. The spurs on his boots lightly jingled and you could hear fabric moving against fabric as he moved past you into your dimly lit room. “Been a while since I’ve been in a room this nice.” He admitted as he looked around your room.

“You live in a barn then?” You teased and sat down at the table near the windows. “Oh, I never told you my name. It’s (Y/N).”

Arthur leaned against the wall near you and crossed his ankles, nodding as he thought over your name. “(Y/N). Never met anyone with that name before.”

You smiled proudly, twirling the pencil in your fingers. “And yours?”

He paused, considering while he looked out the window. “Arthur.” He said finally and looked back to you.

“Arthur.” You mused before remembering what you were supposed to be doing. “Ah, sorry, what did you say you want me to draw you?”

He snorted and crossed his arms. “I didn’t give that any thought, do anything you’d like.”

You bit your lip and looked him up and down. “Okay. It might take me a little while though.” He wanted to say ‘good’, but held his tongue and settled for a ‘That’s okay’.

After about an hour of talking, constant talking, you were finally finished. “If I had longer I could have done better, but, here.” You slid the paper across the table to him. After a while, he got tired and had sat down across from you.

He took the paper in his hands and squinted before his eyes widened. “Christ, girl.” He breathed and looked over the lines and shading. “You’re better than me.”

“You draw too?” You asked with sudden interest but he didn’t respond, he was too caught up in the paper in front of him.

“I can’t believe this. Did you take a picture of me when I wasn’t looking?” He shook his head and scratched his chin as he continued admiring it.

You blushed and ran a hand through your hair, he made you into a flustered mess with those praises. They were different when they were coming from someone who wasn’t kin. “Thank you.” It was all you could say. You didn’t expect him to like it that much, it was a hurried sketch of him leaning against your wall, but as much as you liked to pretend your art wasn’t that good there was no denying that this was an exceptionally realistic drawing. You were almost sad to see it go.

Arthur shook his head and looked up from the paper, looking at you completely different. Like how your father looked at your mother the first time he saw her shoot a gun. Newfound respect and admiration glinted in those pretty blue eyes of his, all directed to you. He was going to say something else but the sounds of heels coming up the stairway stopped him.

“(Y/N)! I just found a letter from June, it came yesterday but-” She grabbed your doorknob and tried to open it, only succeeding in causing the door to shake slightly. Arthur looked at you with wide eyes as she called out your name a second time.

“Go, hurry!” You whispered and he sat up as quickly and quietly as he could, tiptoeing to the open doors. “One second, I’m changing into my nightdress!” You called back to her as you rushed the grown man out of your room.

He paused in the same spot he had climbed up, one hand on the jasmine covered lattice he had used as a ladder. “Could I come see you again?” He asked boldly, the paper in his hand slightly moving from the breeze.

You laughed in disbelief. “There’s no way I could say no to that. You better.”

Arthur smiled then, the widest and cheesiest smile he had worn in a while. If it wasn’t for the lantern sitting inside your room next to the window he stood near, you wouldn’t have seen it. You wanted to say more, but he swung his legs over the edge and left you to explain to your mother why you spent so long doing something so simple.

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #arthur morgan imagines #rdr2 imagines #rdr2 x reader #ask #request #myfanfic #farmersdaughter

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outspokensa · 4 years

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( bella hadid. cis female. she/her. ) / word on the street is that devin bahar was just signed to starlites. you know, the twenty-three-year-old model ? according to everyone around town they’ve been said to be a bit withdrawn & a workaholic, but i guess they make up for it by being so loyal & charismatic. three things that would be used to describe them would be messy silk sheets, red wine, and staying in on a saturday night. i hope they keep up to the expectations of starlites and don’t get dropped before they even take off ! — bella hadid career claim !

I’d like to first apologize for the mess you’re about to read and for if this turns into a rambling mess. I’m going to attempt to keep this intro short since I have a few other links / spots you can jump to if you want to read / learn more about my bby bean. Anywho, I’m Katie, twenty-one, in the cold af est timezone, and I use she/her pronouns.

intro trigger warnings: mentions of parental abandonment and rejection, mentions of depression and anxiety.

✧ backstory

Devin I. Bahar was born to Isabella Corine Bahar, an ex-model who retired when she got married, becoming far more attracted to the ‘rich housewife, bow down to me’ aesthetic than continuing to work, and Damian Ethan Bahar, a lawyer coming from a long line of family lawyers that were known for working important, high-profile cases.

The relationship she holds with her mother is strained due to the woman’s materialistic nature and her goal of marrying off her daughter for as much money as possible. Her eyes are always on a far bigger and shinier prize, no matter how good her life already is.

Her relationship with her father, miraculously, is healthier than the one she has with her mother, simply because she has absolutely no relationship with the male. He took off when she was younger, cutting off all contact with his daughter without a second thought and he hadn’t bothered to make any effort to try and have a relationship with her.

In fact, when she had attempted to start some form of a relationship with him after she turned eighteen, he completely rejected her and wanted nothing to do with her and it ripped her apart far more than she was willing to admit to herself or anyone else.

Even now, she isn’t sure if the complete cut in contact is due to her mother or if it was simply because she didn’t live up to his expectations, didn’t deserve his love. Either way, she has attempted to move on from it after the rejection, even if she still has that small hole in her heart over it.

Due to how strained her relationship is with her mother, she moved out of the household the day she turned eighteen, having managed to save up enough money to support herself, wanting to get away from her as soon as possible. However, the woman is still her mother and she does still attempt to have some form of a relationship with her, even if it sends her into a horrible mindset whenever she has a conversation with the woman.

✧ career

She first began modeling at the age of 16 for a commercial project. She also starred in the "Swan Sittings" by Lesa Amoore, alongside actor Ben Barnes, before appearing in "Smoking Hot" by Holly Copeland. She also modeled for Hanna Hayes' F/W 2013 collection, alongside various other commercial projects, including campaign work for Chrome Hearts during 2013 and 2014.

She was then signed to IMG Models in 2014 and her career started shooting off from there.

She never actually planned to become a model, she actually wanted to be a photographer when she was younger and planned to go to school for it. When it came to the point where her focus turned towards college, she ended up heading towards visual arts, fashion design, and graphic design. Out of that, she discovered her passion for clothing and that’s what began her journey of designing clothes, a project she started along with her modelling career.

Since the start of her career, she has won over a dozen different awards that range over her multiple different career-interests. Managing to make a name for herself as a model and fashion designer.

As much as she enjoys photography, she puts most of her focus onto modelling and continuing to add to her own clothing line full-time. This leaves photography for her spare time as more of a hobby, however, she does step in to help other high-profile photographers from time-to-time.

✧ personality

She identifies as pansexual and has always been very open to sharing and talking about her sexuality.

Has always put her foot forward to support charities, organizations, and projects that support the entire LGBTQ community. Along with making sure to put her focus into other charities and organizations, she’s always been the type of person to ‘give back’ and to put her support into the things she believes in.

Devin suffers from intense depression and anxiety. For the most part, you would never know, she does well but, every once in a while she goes into a deep rut. She won’t talk to anyone, doesn’t want anyone around, generally entirely depressing and doesn’t want to bring other people down when it comes to it. It takes a lot of trust and a special type of friendship for her to allow you to be around during that time considering, most of the time, she’ll go completely off the grid the entire time. However, at the same time, she openly talks about her battle with depression and anxiety. She doesn’t ever want anyone to feel alone and she tries to involve herself with as many campaigns and projects that involve supporting those with mental illness as possible.

Along with this, she also has this back and forth with affection. She either hates being touched or gravitates towards it, it really depends on her mental state at the time and the general relationship she has with the other person involved. It can be difficult, one day she’ll be ready to give you a bear hug and the next day, she’ll shake if you try to shake her hand.

On a more positive note, she tries to be as positive as she can, to a reasonable extent. She never wants to take life far too seriously but, obviously, doesn’t want to take it for granted either. She’s the type of person you go to if you want clear-headed advice but you don’t want to be talked down to at the same time. Or if you want ridiculous jokes while also getting some kind of pep-talk.

Really the mom-friend but probably won’t ever admit to being the mom friend.

✧ extra information and links

blog’s full navigation;

you can find links to just about everything here.

full about page;

if you want statistics, a more in-depth background, extra facts, and some other small things, head on over to her about page.

spotify playlist;

it’s a mess but, i’m always a big fan of using music to get to know characters.

pinterest board;

this is also a highkey mess but you'll be able to find organized sections for: reflection, exterior, study, aesthetic, and her attire.

connections page;

here’s a page with a list of connection ideas, some are specific but most i tend to use as templates for plotting. i’ll also update this with any connections.

wanted connections tag & inspo blog;

i’m also terrible at coming up with ideas so, i have a sideblog to reblog things for wanted connections ( the link leads to the wanted connections tag ), but it also has a tag for extra muse posts if you’re interested. i might actually stop being lazy and use some of these as inspo links on my connections page but who knows.

career tag;

i already have a few posts in here ( and a few in my queue ), if you’re interested. but devin is an intense workaholic that pushes herself far more than what’s healthy so i’m pretty sure it’s nearly impossible for me to put everything she has ever / will ever work on in there but oop scoop.

okay, i’m going to stop typing now, since i’m realizing this is getting longer than i planned. but if you’d like to plot, absolutely feel free to slide into my dms and we can figure something out. i’ve got some coursework i waited until the last minute to start ( again ) so, i’ll be jumping on and off while i try to get a good bulk of it done ! you’re also totally free to hit me up on d*scord @ katie#7666 for plotting and such !

#starlite:intro #this got way longer than i meant for it to oof

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sequoiajune · 4 years

Note

what are your UTMV aus?

Okay so

I have like

Imma split this up

Various Published Fics

Behold, my AO3 account.

Overcurious - arguably my most popular. It is, fundamentally, an Error×Ink supernatural modern au, with a dose of plot. I haven't updatex it since August by pure virtue of procrastination, horrible interal clock measuring a month to the same scale a few days (etc. being like "oh it feels like I updated it a few~ days ago, it's fiinee" twenty days after i updated it), procrastination, distraction, overall lack of motivation, inability ro focus, inability to word, perfectionism, and anxiety (partially caused by the amount of notifications i got overnight for it, that first thing ive publicized in a while and the first to get ANY sort of significant comment feedback, and aaaaaaaaaaaaaAAA, that being said I do not regret publishing it at all becuz i met a lot of cool people and it made me rlly happy in the short run even if it sort of threw me off in the long run, and it's rlly happy and calming to look back at the comments and seeing me interacting with people, like a little while after publishing the second chapter i got into a fight with my mom, i don't even remember what it was about, but it hurt a lot at the time and i think i was crying and i calmed down and aaaaahhhh by rereading the comments becuz. Just. Not even what they were saying but seeing myself interacting so positively with people?? Idk if you knew this but because im homeschooled and awkward and tense i dont see other people my age a whole lot or in general (tho i do have some great irl friends) and i just, like, dont participate in a lot of stuff, tho mom prob wishes i would. It's a little odd but i find seeing myself, by reading internet conversations and things i did to make people happy like ChickenSmoothie and FR gifts and old texts, doing positive interaction because it's just like. Revisiting and seeing it, recorded and there- not memory but actually all there the same way i experienced it because that was literally It, exactly the same way i first had the conversation - just. really nice. Anyways im kind of oversharing and rambling again oops) and did i mention PROCRASTINATION, THE INABILIBTY TO FOCUS ON ANY ONE TRAIN OF THOUGHT FOR OVER FIVE SECONDS WITHOUT DYING, AND PERFECTIONISM? Still proud of this tho

It's not dead, it just sort of took a vacation from my head.

And on the bright side, i cant think oh it took this author so long to update >:( because i have no sense of time. (Also im not rude and insensitive or judgemental and can empathize with that) Example: the fics i met @parspicle on. Maybe it was a couple years ago they updated. Maybe a couple weeks. Maybe a couple days. Maybe a couple decades. Idk man, don't look at me. Idk if they will update again, but they updated some unspecified time ago and thats good enough for me, of course not saying that i dont want to see more. Just @ everyone whos fics i read, don't ever worry about how long it takes to update because i literally have no clue. At worst I won't see it because i got distracted something shiny.

Aaaahhh that had nothing to do with the fic im just rambling at this point.

Starmaps. Still into that idea, but again, other shiny stuff. Also I might want to revise or reorder the first chapter because depsite having a large portion of the story mapped out, (p)unintentional, I sort of wrote the first chapter on a casual whim without really thinking about lil details and how i want to go about it. On hold for now. Wrote the first chapter in my Hyperfixate on Nightmare and Cross, not necessarily as pair. Also Dream phase that may or may not have passed.

Trashy Families, Trashier Lives, and Trashiest Gremlin Nerds. Its a nightink royalty au, my brain is absolutely convinced it was super recent but apparently i publish it on October 22 and it's currently December 13th, over a month away? Time is wack. Anyways, i loved writing this and am proud of it, though i know less about whats going on than ive probably convinced all my readers. Probably a lot of subconscious inspiration from the dragon prince.

Mediums of Art and Error. It's an errink green eggs and ham au from when my bro got me to watch the netflix adaption with him. that's pretty much all the explanation needed, tbh.

So thats ao3. There's a few other things but I'll reblog with that to make sure that tumblr won't delete all of this when I press post becuz mobile

#ask #insane-but-smart #june jay speaks #to be tagged

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plantbased-elise · 6 years

Text

Cheers for Queers

Back for another fic. I wrote this for the phandom reverse bang @phandomreversebang. The art was made by @thebabiesarentokay. The fic was beta’d @danceswithsweaters.

I hope you all enjoy this fic! Go check out the art. It is absolutely amazing!

Wattpad AO3 ART

The air around him smelled of freshly baked pastries, coffee and rain. The café was nearly empty, as it was nearing tea time, in the middle of summer holidays. Apart from Phil, there was a family of four sat around a round table at the other side of the café.

The rain was falling down, steady but forceful. It streamed along the old London streets and pooled where the pavement was no longer at level. Phil sighed whilst staring out the window, putting off leaving the comfort of the café.

He started towards the toilets, drawing out the time a little more by using the loo. He was hoping that by the time he got back it would’ve stopped raining. As much as one could hope, it was still London and it rained so often and it was unlikely for it to stop in five minutes.

As he made his way to the back of the café, he heard a small uproar at the table of the family. He ignored it in favour of respecting their privacy.

When he returned, the family was gone. Lydia, owner of the café and a close friend of Phil’s, was already placing the chairs on the tables.

“Hey Phil, thought I saw your umbrella in the umbrella stand. You should’ve seen that family leave. The father nearly threw the money at me, the son was outside in tears before the rest of the family had even stood up. The daughter was just looking at the floor.”

Phil snickered. Lydia had the habit of telling him about strange situations at the café.

“What story did you think of for them?”

Another habit of Lydia’s was to make up stories about the strange situations, which would often take a turn for the magical, taking the shape of myths about dragons, even beyond Phil’s imagination.

“Dad forgot he had cookies in the oven. The mom had a bad client at work. The son has lost his fairy wings and the daughter is still learning how to breathe fire.” Lydia was wiping the counters, her face straight and her voice level.

Phil shook his head and took his umbrella from the umbrella stand.

“How do you still have a business in baked goods? You would do great as a writer. See you tomorrow!” He opened the door to the café, sighing at the rain still pouring down.

As he closed the door, he heard Lydia call out, “Bye!”

Stood under the protection of the overhang, Phil opened his umbrella. The noise of the rain seemed to drown out the entire world. Just as Phil turned to walk down the street, he noticed someone sitting under the hangover, on the pavement, huddled against the building.

It was the boy from the café. Now that Phil got a closer look at him, however, he realised that this man was around his own age. He was curled into a ball, his shoulders seemed to be shaking slightly. His face was turned away from Phil but his hands were in his hair, tugging at it.

“Sir are you okay?” Phil approached the huddled figure, “No, of course you aren’t. Stupid of me to ask. Do you need help?”

The man looked up. Tearstained blotchy cheeks and red-rimmed brown eyes stared up at Phil.

“C-could you help me up. I can’t really feel my legs.” The man’s voice was quiet, nearly drowned out in the rain. He held out his hand for Phil to latch on to. Just as Phil was about to do just that, he noticed how the other’s hands were shaking. He clasped their hands together and pulled it towards himself.

The man came up willingly, and even though when he stood at full height he was taller than Phil, he was light and easily pulled up for someone who didn’t really work out.

When he stood on both his legs, they seemed to shake for a moment. Phil reached out his arm and wrapped it around the man’s waist for support.

“I’m Phil.” He said. He felt the strange urge to protect this man, who had been sitting so lonely on the pavement.

“I’m Dan, nice to meet you. I’m sorry to inconvenience you.” Dan tried to push himself away from Phil’s supporting arm, but the latter only tightened his hold, just enough to stop Dan from moving away.

“You know, I love the rain, but hate how wet it makes me. I wish I could just look at the rain through a glass bubble,” Phil rambled.

“Do you have somewhere you need to be?” Phil asked, mildly concerned about this handsome stranger.

Dan shook his head softly. He kept his eyes slightly downcast, never quite looking Phil directly in the eye.

“Do you want to walk with me for a bit?” Phil offered. Dan nodded his head and let himself be led down the street.

He looked at the rain as they walked down the streets of London, moving away from the City towards the suburbs.

“You know that’s what windows are for, right.” Dan had dried his tears and was looking up at Phil, smiling with an amused glint in his eyes. His eyes still looked a little watery, and red, but they seemed to have regained a certain spark that wasn’t there minutes before. “Looking outside without having to partake in it.”

They crossed the road, narrowly avoiding a car that ran a red light, but not without Dan loudly swearing at the driver.

“You’re not taking me away to kill me, right?” he asked suspiciously, moving closer to Phil to avoid a large puddle. Only, instead of just gracefully sliding aside, he stumbled over his feet and tripped into the other. His chest collided painfully with Phil’s boney shoulder.

“Ouch!” Dan hissed, rubbing his sternum, more out of shock than out of pain. It seemed that he always got himself into awkward situations.

“Oh, sorry. Are you okay?” Phil’s hand shot up, only to retract hesitantly as to not touch a near stranger.

“Yeah I’m fine. Where are we going?” Dan was curious as to where Phil was leading him.

“Well I’m cold and you’ve been shivering the whole time. If you don’t mind, We’re on our way to my apartment.

As he looked sideways at Dan, he came to a halt in front of his apartment complex. He fumbled for his keys, his wet skinny jeans sticking to his legs.

The lock sprung open and a warm rush of air fell over the two men. “God, this is what I needed!”

---

“Make yourself at home,”Phil said, directing Dan’s attention to the comfortable-looking sofa in the living space. “I’ll find you something dry to wear.”

Dan looked around the apartment. The walls were decorated with paintings and posters, each one nerdier than the last. This man seemed to be the perfect combination of good-looking and kind. He was handsome, with a frame that was perfectly proportioned. His black hair contrasted perfectly with his pale skin.

“So I could only find my superman pyjamas and my emoji pyjamas. No judging, they’re very soft. And clean.”

Dan laughed as the offensively yellow trousers were thrown towards his head. He accepted the tea Phil handed him and took a tentative sip to test the sweetness.

“Perfect.” He couldn’t help but sigh, feeling warmth seep back into his body.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why were you crying earlier? You don’t have to answer.” Phil was looking at him over the glasses he’d put on and… fuck. Dan was definitely fucked.

“No it’s okay. It was shock more than the actual event. I was in the café with my parents and brother. They were visiting for the weekend. And I thought it was finally time to come out to them.” Dan sighed and took another sip of tea. “I really don’t know what I was expecting. My dad has been openly homophobic as long as I can remember, and my mom comes from a conservative religious family. I knew their reaction wasn’t going to be positive. I guess I feel worse because of my brother Alex. He just wants to start transitioning, but our parents would never allow it. He’s almost done with high school and he’s going to move out here as soon as possible. He hates that our parents call him Alexandra and that his school doesn’t recognise his preferred pronouns.”

For a while silence hung in the room. Dan sipped his tea and Phil looked at the man sitting on his couch. Phil nodded, encouraging Dan to continue.

“I guess something I’m more worried about is how I’m going to help him. I’m 26, and still in university. How can I help him find a place?”

Dan looked at his phone, which he had placed on the table. The time it showed was 11:33 PM.

“Shit, I’m sorry for bothering you. Thank you for the tea and the pajama bottoms,” Dan said as jumped up from his place on the couch. He didn’t really wanting to leave, but he felt like he had overstayed his welcome.

“Wait! I want to give you my number. That way I can return your jeans once they’re dry and you can give me back my pajamas. You can text me whenever. I’ll help you out. Or just talk to you.”

Phil put his phone number into Dan’s phone, before handing it back to him, secretly feeling grateful that he had managed not to drop it.

“What’s your last name?”Dan asked. “I have a Phil form uni in my phone and I don’t want to confuse you two.” Dan didn’t know why he felt so drawn to this guy, who he had met whilst crying in the rain. He was putting a lot of trust in a stranger.

“Oh, I never told you. It’s Lester, spelled L-E-S-T-E-R.”

The brunet hummed to himself. Funny, he thought he’d heard that name before. He shrugged it off, in favour of following Phil to the door.

“I hope to talk to you soon Dan. Goodnight, sleep tight.” Dan waved as this gorgeous man closed the doors, seeing the glimpses of a smile through the last crack of the door.

----

03.46 Am Unknown number

Now i know where i’ve heard your name before. You’re a radio presenter for BBC Radio 1.

08.36 Am Phil Lester

You caught me! Radio presenter by day, taking care of cute guys at night!

Oops that came out wrong!

I meant cute boys like you. Giving them some tea.

‘Smooth as always, Phil,’ Phil thought to himself. He sat his phone down on the counter in favour of picking up his mug of coffee. After looking at his phone for a few more minutes he left to go to work.

---

He was supposed to be coming up with ideas for the next big show he was going to do, but he was getting distracted by Dan sending him pictures of dogs and memes throughout the day. Around 1:00pm, just as he was going on lunch break, an idea hit him like a ton of bricks.

He rushed back to his computer, frantically typing up the idea in a text document, before sprinting off to the lunchroom before the pizza was gone.

Cheer for all those who are queer!

‘Being LGBT+ isn’t always easy. You’re always going to have to fight against the people that won’t accept you for who you are. What can we do to help make it a little easier and no longer taboo?’

The description blinked back at Phil from the front page of the BBC Radio 1 website. His boss had approved the idea instantly, and told him to gather some people he wanted with him on stage. On his quest he’d ended up on YouTube, looking for some of the most significant British LGBT+ YouTubers. He’d gathered a short list, and even got Tyler Oakley to fly out, who was more than happy to help Phil present.

There were just two people left on his list who he had to ask if they wanted to be there.

----

Dan burst out laughing as Phil fell off the track again. “Honestly, Phil, how can you be so bad at Mario Kart?”

Phil pouted at Dan as he crossed the finish line. “You’re just too good at this game. I demand you play blindfolded next round.” He giggled as Dan pumped his arm in victory, as if it was such an unexpected outcome.

“Kinky,” Dan muttered, “didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Phil giggled with pink cheeks. “You do that, bossy.”

This had been happening since they met. The playful comments and actions, borderline flirting, or even downright flirting. Little touches that sent sparks flying, comment that could only be interpreted in so many ways, and most of them not platonic.

Dan’s phone dinged with Alex’s special ringtone. He picked up his phone from the couch, eyes skimming over the message .

“Alex asks if he can come by this weekend to check out some housing options. Would you be okay with that?” Dan looked up hesitantly. They’d planned to go to Infinity War on Saturday, and he hated having to blow off Phil.

“Dan, of course that’s okay. When are his exams over again? He can come down as soon as his last exam is over, and stay as long as he wants. I like him.”

Dan texted his brother that it was fine, before dropping his phone back on his lap. He worried his lip between his teeth. “Phil,” he said.

“Hmm, what?” Phil hummed staring at the Television in concentration. His tongue was poking out slightly, and his eyes glinted with glee as he watched the Mario Kart characters race across the screen. (Dan had no idea how he missed Phil putting on a game of Mario Kart.)

“Earth to Dan? You look a little off. Are you feeling alright?” Phil’s blue eyes were focused on Dan and fuck, couldn’t he stop being so perfect for just one second. His face was so close.

“Oh, just wanted to ask if it’s really fine. I know you really wanted to see Infinity War this weekend.”

Phil’s face lit up as he smiled, oh so reassuring. “Dan, I want to see Infinity War, yes. But, I also want to you to help your brother,” he said softly. “I did want to ask, when Alex is done with school is he moving out here before his graduation ceremony?”

A giggle fell from Dan’s lips, unexpected and high-pitched. “Yes he is, just wants go back for graduation and then leave Wokingham behind. Why do you ask?” he looked into those blue eyes with a curious look on his face.

“No reason, just asking.”

After this admittedly strange exchange, they both returned their attention back to Free! where Haruka was about to dive into the pool.

---

“Do you see Alex? What am I saying, you haven’t met him, how would you know what he looks like. God, I hope he didn’t miss the train. What if he got stuck somewhere halfway...” Dan was rambling, so obviously nervous for nothing. He was running his hands through his hair, tugging on it to.

“Dan, calm down. Alex texted you ten minutes ago that he was almost here. The train hasn’t been announced yet. He’ll be fine. He’s a smart guy. Just take a breath.” Phil gently pulled Dan’s hands away from his head.

To anyone else on the station, they looked like a couple. Standing close, in their own bubble. Reading into each other, and responding perfectly. Alex observed them from a little ways away. Dan’s brother seemed so happy, for the first time in a long time. Alex didn’t want their bubble to burst, but it was pretty busy on the platform and he was in the way.

“Dan! Over here!” he waved his arms in the air, for emphasis. Dan looked up in shock, a blush rising on his cheeks. He smiled wildly when he met Alex’ eyes. He sprinted to him, and hugged him to his chest. Their difference in height was almost comical. Dan stood at 1.91 meters and Alex stood at a mere 1.55 meters.

Phil approached slowly, giving the two brothers some time alone. The scene was a sight to see, two people so similar in appearance standing in the middle of the station. This morning when they’d left for the station, Phil had brought his camera, for no particular reason. Now it seemed more than just a whim or coincidence.

He took the camera and zoomed in slightly, focussing on the two brothers embracing in the crowd. He made a mental note to edit the picture to make the people surrounding them blur.

“Did you just take a picture of us?” Dan looked at him, having just released his brother. He was grinning at Phil, an arm still slung over his brother’s shoulder.

“Alex, meet Phil, who takes pictures of people instead of properly greeting them. Phil, this is Alex, who you’ve already scared off.”

Alex grinned, and held out his hand for Phil to shake. “Don’t worry, I lived with Dan when he was in his emo phase. Nothing can scare me anymore. Except maybe when he made his first skirt, and it ripped whilst we were visiting our grandma. He was just standing there, in his undies, completely mortified. Best day of my life!”

Dan was blushing furiously now, and hit Alex in the arm repeatedly. He attempted to say ‘shut up’ over the other two’s laughter. Eventually giggles started escaping from his mouth too.

“Come on, we have a lot to do today.” Phil lifted the bags and started towards the exit of the station.

---

“So, Daniel, when where you going to tell me you found a man? Thought I raised you better than this.” Alex grinned devilishly. He dodged the half-arsed punch his brother threw at his shoulder. He turned left to the apartment they were viewing.

“Shut up! He is not my man. As much as I want to...” Dan was interrupted by his brother’s scream. He turned in concern, only to see his brother staring at him with a look of utter joy.

“You like him! Oh I am going to have the greatest time here!” Alex stopped when they reached the right address. The apartment complex was rundown, trash was resting against the wall.

“Alex, I don’t think you’ll want to live here. The wall over there says ‘Queers must Die!’. This is not the right place for you.” Dan stirred them around and away from the building. Looking around the neighbourhood, it seemed like those type of exclaims were all over the buildings.

“Well, then I have nowhere to go. This is the only thing I can afford near campus. Dan, what am I going to do?” Alex looked a little panicked. His breathing picked up in speed, and his legs grew a little weak. “I can’t go back to mum and dad. They want a daughter, I’m not their daughter. I don’t want to be seen as their daughter.” His hands were in his hair, tugging on the strands that came out from under his beanie.

“Alex, breathe. It’s going to be okay. We’ll find a way. You will never have to feel like that again. Come on, we’re going to Phil’s and relaxing for the rest of the night.” Dan led him to the nearest tube station, rubbing his back soothingly. Alex had been having panic attacks since he was in his early teens. Dan came to know that it was mostly induced by his dysphoria.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, sending a text to Phil that they were on their way. He didn’t know why, but he felt he needed to go to Phil’s house, not his own home. He’d been spending so much time there, it almost felt like a second home.

Phil

Is everything okay? Thought you were going to be out till late checking out houses. 1.36 PM

Phil, always so considerate, always so wonderful. Dan really was fucked.

Phil

Text me when you’re near. I’ll get the snacks and movie set up. 1.38 PM

Dan

About five minutes away. Thank you. 1.41 PM

---

They were settled on the couch, all eyes on the television. Occasionally the crackling of a crisps bag sounded, or the crunching of crisps sounded in the room.

The peace was disrupted by Dan’s phone ringing. He picked up the call. After a rushed conversation, Dan stood up rapidly. He looked a little frantic. “That was one of my classmates. I share a workspace with him at Ravensbourne. Someone spilled coke over my final project. I have to go see if I can save it, otherwise I’m fucked.”

He was out of the flat in minutes, mumbling about stupid first years. Phil and Alex looked at one another one the couch, mostly confused. Phil reached for the remote and paused the movie.

“So you do have any more embarrassing stories about Dan that I can tease him about? I need some good material.”

Alex grinned wickedly. He looked so much like Dan, it was almost scary. He launched into stories about Dan’s teenage years.

“So, at eighteen, our parents wanted Dan to study law at Manchester. He didn’t agree and when he said he was going to Manchester to apply, he was actually on his way to Ravensbourne University, London. By the time our parents found out, he was well into his second year, and had a very promising internship at a fashion design company. Our parents were never the most involved parents out there, but they cared. It wasn’t until they found out about Dan’s ambition that it took a turn for the worse. They nearly cut all contact with him. During that time, I started living outside of our home more and more. I slept over at friends, family and tried to be home as little as possible.” Alex took a deep breath. Somehow they’d ended up talking about the Howell siblings’ parental situation.

“Dan reached out to me, and begged me not to say a word to our parents. He helped me discover me, and came up with the name Alex. Then, half a year ago, mum and dad reached out to Dan. they wanted to catch up with him. So we set up a day where we would come down to London. That’s how we ended up at the café. Then Dan came out, and everything crashed. I’m not allowed to go out, and they are convinced I’m in Liverpool with one of my friends to look into the university options. Dan gave me an out. He gave me a way to freedom. But my finances are in the way. The neighbourhood that’s close to my new school is homophobic, has slurs written on every wall. It’s the only place I can afford that is within traveling distance.”

A silence fell over the two. Phil was racking his brain. There was something on the edge of his brain, an idea forming gradually.

“I might have just found a way to solve your housing problem. I have three bedrooms in this flat. I don’t know why I ever bought it. I wanted to turn one into an office, but that wasn’t necessary. One of them is a guest bedroom, and one is just empty. I’ve been thinking about getting a flatmate. I just don’t want a stranger living with me. Would you maybe move in? If you want you can pay some sort of cost of living.”

Before the last sentence was properly out of his mouth, Alex launched himself across the couch and threw his arms around Phil.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! God, you don’t know how good a person you are.”

Phil blushed and hugged the boy back. “I do want to ask you something else, but I’ll wait until Dan gets back.”

As if on cue the front door opened. (Phil had given Dan a spare key because Phil’s tendency to lose his keys occurred frequently.) Dan shouted out ‘I’m back’ and let the door fall in the lock.

“So I managed to save my garment, and not kill the first year who spilled the coke. Are you proud of me yet?” he came into the lounge, hair tousled like when he ran his hands through it too much. Why did Phil now that he’d done that. Maybe because he’d seen him do it so much. He looked exhausted, and frankly, kind of adorable.

“Dan! Right on time. Phil has offered to take me in as flatmate. Also he wanted to ask us both something, so shut up and sit down.” Alex pushed his brother down on the sofa between himself and Phil.

“So, I’m working on a new project at the BBC. They want me to host a special, and I can decide what it’s about. I’ve got an idea set up, and invited several guests to be there too. Wait I have the website on my laptop…” Phil fumbled around with his laptop for a few minutes before turning the screen towards the two Howells.

Cheer for all those who are queer!

Dan’s breath hitched, and then he looked up at Phil. “you invited UK’s most well-known LGBT+ YouTubers, and they’re going to be there to speak?! That’s amazing Phil, congrats!”

Phil swallowed and smiled gratefully at Dan. “I want to start the conversation on acceptance from family and how this is a topic that’s kept under wraps. I wanted to ask you two if you want to accompany me, talk about your personal situation, and help me present the whole thing. I never had to deal with unaccepting parents. When I came out as bisexual, they were accepting. I don’t want to be /that/ person that gives tips whilst knowing absolutely nothing.” Phil took another deep breath.

“So would you do me the honour of presenting ‘Cheer for all those who are Queer!’ with me?”

Dan looked between the screen and Phil, mouth gaping. “You want me, a fashion major, who is the most unknown person in Britain, to host a radio special?! You are insane! Yes, I’ll do it.”

Alex looked up hesitantly. “I’d love to, but when is the special. I can’t do it before graduation. Mum and dad don’t know yet.”

“That’s why I asked my boss if I could do it after your official graduation. He agreed. We can get you settled and then we’ll do the actual special.” Phil smiled oh so softly, eyes shining.

Before anything else could be said or done, Dan tackled Phil into a hug, throwing them both onto the side of the sofa unoccupied. Alex wolf whistled loudly, but Dan ignored it in favour of saying what he’d been thinking for a while now.

“Phil, you are the best person I’ve met in a long time. God, what would we Howells do without you? I love you.”

Dan stiffened, his hold on Phil going tense. Alex coughed and Phil grew still. After a short, tense silence, Phil exhaled slowly.

“I love you too.” It was soft, barely above a whisper. Slowly, they pulled back from the hug. Dan turned to look at Alex, only to see him munching on crisps whilst staring at them.

Suddenly laughter bubbled up in Dan’s throat. He barked out a half laugh, before properly dissolving into laughter. Alex nearly choked on his crisps before succumbing to the laughter to it too.

Phil looked between the two Howell brothers, amused yet confused. His grin turned into little giggles which eventually grew into full on laughter.

---

Later in the night, they were watching Ant-man. Phil yawned discreetly, at least what he thought was discreetly. But Dan caught him out on it, only he was judging to soon, as before he could say anything he yawned with his mouth wide open.

“You guys can crash here. I’m not letting you get on the Tube at this hour of the night. Alex I’ll show you what will be your bedroom. Dan, I haven’t cleaned the guest bedroom in a while, so you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the sofa.” Phil got up and gathered the dirty dishes stashed on the coffee table. Dan swiftly got up to help him. Alex was half asleep, mumbling something about making things tiny.

“Absolutely not! You cannot sleep on that sofa. We’ll share the bed. I don’t mind at all.” He put force behind his words by setting down the dirty dishes, maybe a tad too hard. He turned to Phil, who had turned on the tab to start the dishes. Dan lay a hand on his, and pushed the tab closed.

“And you are not doing the dishes right now. We’ll do it in the morning, together. I helped create the dishes, after all.”

Phil just smiled at the man in front of him, looking so different from the one he’d met in front of the café three months ago. His smiled reached his eyes, dimples were etched into his cheeks. He stood up straight, shoulders right and an air of confidence about him that seemed to make him glow.

Phil step forward and pulled him in for a hug. They stood there with their arms around one another for a while. Eventually Dan pulled away, immensely reluctant to release Phil’s warm body.

“Come on, you look like you’re going to fall asleep right here. Let’s go to bed.”

Dan found that he couldn’t defy the softly spoken command.

As the night passed Dan turned from his side of Phil’s bed to the warm body next to him. He had always been a sucker for spooning.

When Phil woke up he felt warm. No, not warm, hot almost uncomfortably so. Almost, but not quite, because of the amazing smell and the soft puffs of air that touched Phil’s face. His arms were wrapped around Dan who was sprawled out partly on top and partly against his side, in a weird way. Somehow, it was comfortable, because he was fast asleep and occasionally hummed under his breath.

Phil laid there, content to be in this moment. He felt so much for the man that sleeping so close to him. He wanted him to have everything he needed.

After a while of Phil creepily staring, Dan started to wake up. First his humming became more of a soft groaning, then he started to breathe deeper.

“Good morning, handsome.” Phil didn’t know where the nickname had come form, but he damn sure didn’t regret it.

“Mmm, right back at you,” Dan mumbled, face now pressed directly into Phil’s bare chest. Phil slept without a shirt most nights, except when it was freezing out.

He looked up from his comfortable spot, into Phil’s bright eyes, intensified by the morning sun coming in.

“God, can you not look so beautiful when you wake up?!” Dan sounded almost offended, yet it was massively outweighed by the fondness and utter adoration in his voice.

“Says the model. You look like you’re doing a photoshoot, not like you’ve just woken up. I just want to kiss the sleep off your face.”

Dan’s breathing hitched. “What’s stopping you? Not me.”

Phil leaned forward and captured Dan’s lips between his own. Like everything else about the blue-eyed man, his lips were soft and warm, delicate and somehow even caring.

A whine left Dan’s throat before he responded, if a bit too eager. Phil slowed him back down, till they were kissing softly, dare Dan say, lovingly.

Their lips disconnected, but before either could pull away completely, Phil pecked Dan’s lips once. “We should get up. I want a good bowl of cereal.”

So they wandered into the kitchen. Dan decided to let Alex sleep for a little bit. He deserved it.

Sat at Phil’s kitchen table, spooning cereal, whilst occasionally smiling at Phil, made Dan feel so warm inside.

“So, I wanted to ask you. Would you want to be my boyfriend?” Phil smiled slightly as he asked.

Dan dropped his spoon into the bowl, staring up in awe at his friend... no boyfriend. “Yes. God I’ve wanted to hear that so bad.” He reached for Phil’s hand across the table and smiled fondly at him.

“Ugh, gross! Get a room you two.” Alex stood in the doorway of the kitchen, a mixture of amusement and disinterest on his face.

“Fuck off Alex!”

----

“Good afternoon Britain, and welcome to BBC Radio One. I’m Phil Lester and I’ll be hosting a special event today. ‘Cheer for all those who are Queer!’. Presenting alongside me are Dan Howell and Alex Howell….”

Dan smiled at his boyfriend as he chatted away to a room full of people, and a large portion of the population of Britain.

God he was lucky.

#prb2018 #prb18 #phandom #Phanfic #phanfiction #phan #strangers to friends to lovers #friends to lovers #writing

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rixwrites · 7 years

Text

The Chaser gets chased (2/4)

Author’s note: Hello again! Here’s the second chapter of my first Noorhelm story. I got several really nice messages about the first chapter, so fingers crossed for the second one. Do let me know what you think! I love reading your thoughts about it! Also, a little tip for people who are unfamiliar with the HP verse: take a look at the Harry Potter wikia page to get a better feel for certain terms - especially with this chapter featuring Patronuses!

Oh, something else: Noora and Eva are the same age as William and Chris in this story. Everyone else’s age is canon. Just to clear things up!

I found the source of the promt by the way: I’ll link it here. Maybe you might be inspired by the other prompts - please tag me if you are! I’d love to read your work!!!

Now, without further ado: chapter two! (Oops: The rhyming was completely unintended, I swear!)

CHAPTER 2

Two days have gone by since William and Noora’s spat in the Great Hall. The Gryffindor isn’t proud of it but she’s been going out of her way to avoid running into the Ravenclaw. Despite having her friends by her side distracting her as best as they could, Noora’s still licking her William-inflicted wounds.

Today’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class offered her a little reprieve from the heartache. The Sixth Year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs have begun studying the Patronus charm and, under the watchful eye of their professor, spent the second half of their two-hour period trying to conjure one of their own.

Noora is the only one in her class who’s managed to produce more than a few wisps of silvery clouds. Her Patronus was an Uncorporeal one, without a distinguishable shape to it, but she’s still high on endorphins when the professor dismisses their class.

“What were you thinking about, Noora?” One of her fellow Gryffindors prods.

“Yeah, Noora,” Another classmate shouts. “Tell us!”

Noora smiles but refuses to divulge how she did it. She’s not entirely sure she knows herself what memory she used. Eva looks proud of her.

“You’d think you were a rock star.” The Hufflepuff smiles teasingly. Noora smirks a little bashfully. “How about lunch, superstar?”

Noora hesitates when she and Eva get to the Great Hall: usually they’d go and sit with Chris and the others, but things have changed. Eva wordlessly grabs her hand and drags her best friend to the Hufflepuff table. They take a seat next to a group of younger girls.

“Hi, Eva, Noora.” The perky blonde smiles widely. Her friend, a brunette rolling a spoon around in her mouth and making eyes at one of her housemates, just nods in greeting.

“Hi Vilde.” Noora smiles back. “How did things go with that Charms essay of yours? Did my notes from our tutoring session help you in any way?”

Vilde nods gratefully. “Yes, I meant to thank you for that. I even earnt five points for our House in today’s class. Professor Banning was really pleased with my improvement.”

“Good job!” Noora gives the younger girl two thumbs up. “Let me know if I can help with something, okay?”

“Thanks, Noora. You didn’t have to.” Vilde sounds touched by the kindness of the popular older student. “I appreciate your help.”

“Don’t mention it.” Noora winks at her and dives into the food on her plate.

Vilde drops all talk of schoolwork and starts relaying today’s gossip. Noora usually stays far away from the rumor mill – too often involuntarily taking on a starring role in some of the juicier stories going around – but today she hums and gasps at all appropriate times. She could use the distraction and she’s pleasantly surprised when her name doesn’t come up once.

But maybe she spoke too soon. Suddenly, Vilde stops talking and just looks at the Gryffindor in front of her.

“What is it?” Noora feels a little uncomfortable with the staring. “Do I have something on my face?”

Vilde shakes her head. “It’s just…” She hesitates. “I was just wondering… You see, there’s talk about…”

Noora gets an uneasy feeling – fearing that the conversation will turn to a topic she really doesn’t want to discuss – when Eva saves her.

“Hey, Vilde,” Her best friend addresses the younger Hufflepuff. “What’s been going on today? It seems as if it’s quieter than usual in here.”

Vilde shrugs and drops her nosing in Noora’s personal life. “I heard something about the Sixth Year Care of Magical Creatures students being shaken up about class. Apparently, they’re studying Thestrals in that class. I guess I’d be freaked out too if I saw a winged horse with a skeletal body and a face that looks like a reptile.”

“Someone could see them?” Eva asks. Noora looks over at the group of Sixth Year Care of Magical Creatures students she knows rather well and notices the quiet surrounding the usually vivacious group of friends sitting at the Ravenclaw table. Her heart hurts when she sees William’s hunched form.

Chris Berg, Vilde’s friend, nods gravelly. “William Magnusson. He was the only one. I’ve heard he hasn’t spoken a word since class let out.”

Noora is still looking at William. He’s sat with his back facing her so she can’t see his face, but she takes notice of the tension in his body. The sadness comes off him in waves and Noora loses her appetite at the sight of the Ravenclaw in pain. She wishes there was something she could do to take his mind off it.

Noora absentmindedly gets out her wand and starts twirling it around her fingers. The secure feeling of the wood calms her nerves – almost like the presence of a friend. She can hear Eva talking to Vilde and Chris about their Defense class, praising Noora’s success with the Patronus charm, and suddenly Noora knows. Just because she isn’t within William’s proximity, doesn’t mean she can’t show her support. Or distract him from his thoughts.

The Gryffindor closes her eyes – forcing her brain to recall the happiest memories she has – and slightly lifts her wand. She doesn’t open her eyes when she whispers the spell but she does feel the magic sprouting from her wand. When she hears several loud gasps and a few surprised shouts echoing, she dares to peek.

She’s exceeded her attempt from class – the silvery cloud that escaped the tip of her wand now has a distinguished shape. There’s a brightly shimmering dolphin swimming through the air and as soon as it’s reached the Ravenclaw table, it starts tumbling above William’s head and trying to catch his attention.

William turns around when the Patronus hides behind his back – trying to keep his gaze on the playful animal. Noora’s lips curl upwards in a gentle expression when she sees the way William smiles. She feels as if she’s stepped into a warm beam of summer sunlight when she spots the awed look on his face. The fondness she feels because of William’s carefree expression makes her feel as if her heart is going to burst and her Patronus shines a little brighter as a consequence.

She continues watching William staring at her Patronus before she notices some movement behind the dark-haired Ravenclaw. The boy’s friends have all turned to look where the dolphin came from and Noora sees their mouths falling open when they realize she conjured it. Some of them waggle their eyebrows at her, giving her teasing smirks and mouthing ‘whipped’ at her, but Chris just winks at her. She doesn’t need to hear the words to understand that he means it as a ‘thank you’. Noora blushes a little and looks away from them.

Her eyes drift from William and her Patronus to the teachers’ table. Her Defense Professor has been looking for the student who cast the spell and raises his glass in congratulations at Noora when their eyes meet. At the very least, her silly little crush - like Sana, Noora’s favorite study buddy in Slytherin, had named it - will get her House some points for the House Cup.

The Gryffindor allows her Patronus to disappear – feeling the magic drain out of her the longer she keeps the spell intact – and feels a little guilty when she spots William’s disappointed look. The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and Eva bids Vilde and Chris a hasty goodbye before she grabs hold of Noora’s arm and drags her up the marble staircase to the first floor. The Gryffindor protests when she recognizes the bathroom they’re headed for.

“No! Absolutely not!” She digs her heels into the floor and tries to stop Eva from opening that door. “Not Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom! Whatever we talk about in there will be all over Hogwarts before the end of this period!”

Eva reconsiders her initial destination and then opts for an empty classroom on the other end of the hall.

“Are we skipping? Because I don’t think McGonagall is going to approve.” Noora rambles. Eva’s actions are making her nervous. “Besides, we’re studying Animagi and that’s about the only interesting thing we’ll see in Transfiguration this year and…”

“Oh, shut up, would you?” Eva locks the door behind them and casts a Muffliato Charm on the door. When she turns around to look at the blonde, she seems two seconds away from passing out in excitement. “Now, you want to tell me what that was about?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you?” Noora asks. She’s got a good idea what Eva’s hinting at, but she won’t give in that easily. “You’re the one making me skip class, dragging me into an empty classroom and casting spells to keep others from overhearing us! I love you, Eva, but I’m not making out with you and risking Chris’s wrath!”

Eva rolls her eyes at her friend. “Don’t act dumb, Noora. We both know you aren’t.”

Noora pouts. “I might as well try.”

“Well?” Eva asks again. “Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?”

“What do you want me to say?” Noora takes a seat on one of the desks in the room and petulantly looks at the toes of her shoes. “What even is there to say?”

Eva wants to scoff and say ‘plenty’ but instead she chooses to go with a soft-spoken “What were you thinking of?”

Noora shrugs. “Don’t really know, to be honest. I just… I let my brain take over, let the memories flow freely through me, and just cast the spell.”

“What memories?”

“All kinds. Finding my wand, moving here, starting Hogwarts, meeting you and the guys and…”

“And William?” Noora doesn’t reply. Her breath hitching gives her away, though.

The friends fall silent for a bit, Eva giving Noora a moment to sort through her thoughts.

“I just…” The Gryffindor whispers. “He was looking so sad and… I wanted to make him feel better, you know. But I know that he doesn’t really like having me around all that much and after what happened the last time we had dinner together… I didn’t want to push it, I guess?”

Eva wraps both her arms around her friend’s thin shoulders. Noora’s blonde head nestles into the crook of the Hufflepuff’s neck. “This is nice,” Noora giggles. It sounds watery. “Now I understand why Chris keeps you around. You smell good.”

“I hope he likes me for more than just my choice in perfume.” Eva huffs. Noora giggles again. “Can I ask you something else?”

Noora nods. “Your Patronus got brighter at one point. Like… at first it shimmered, but then it looked like actual starlight…”

“William smiled.” Noora has her eyes closed and a soft look on her face. “He looked so carefree in that moment. He should smile more. William’s got a beautiful smile.”

Eva’s embrace tightens temporarily, her body stiffening up against Noora’s. She places her head on top of Noora’s.

“Oh, Noora,” Eva sighs. “This is more than a crush, isn’t it?”

“It was never just a crush.” Noora whispers. Her voice sounds really frail and Eva’s heart breaks for her friend. “It was always only William. It’ll always be me and William.”

“He needs to know.” Eva mutters. “He needs to know that you care about him. For real.”

Author’s note: Et voilà! There you have it, my darling readers: Chapter two. I really like this scene... dunno. Let me know what you think! I’ll upload again this weekend! And get ready for some DRAMA! Thank you for reading!

#noorhelm writing #noora x william #skam writing #hogwarts au #noorhelm au #noorhelm hogwarts au #the chaser gets chased #skam fic #noorhelm fic

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repeatsfate · 7 years

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A, K, R!!

vidya games!

K – game you’re most looking forward to?

at the moment it’s super mario odyssey and pokemon ultra sun and moon! and, uh… my inner 12 year old is rearing her ugly head to force me to admit i’m also pretty hyped for sonic forces, oops. lOOK IT LOOKS FUN, OKAY…

i’m looking forward to fe musou too but also i’m pretty neutral on it– everything they’ve revealed has been super incredible so far and i’m looking forward to maining my birb, but i’m more interested in the confirmed fe16 and i’m looking forward to hearing more about that when the time comes.

R – most underrated game?

hmmmm… while xenoblade chronicles itself would certainly fit the bill despite shulk being a giant meme now, i think i’ll take it a step further and go on to say xenoblade chronicles x deserves a bit more love than it got–

despite the very real flaws with the game and some aspects of the story, a thing that draws me to it aside from the ‘if you can see it, you can go to it’ MASSIVE open world and setting on a foreign planet was just how human its supporting cast and even minor npcs are. the game does an excellent job of portraying raw humanity in both ends of the spectrum– where there are heroes, there are people even in man’s most desperate hour that took that second chance as an excuse to be horrible, horrible people. the encounter of alien life goes as swimmingly as you expect, with the remaining fragments of humanity split on how to deal with these new beings in their midst. some choose to try and form alliances and bonds, the others shun and fear the outsiders– many quests actually revolve around the racism in what’s supposed to be a safe haven for the aliens pledging themselves to humanity’s side. the conflict taking up the last leg of the game is one born of human grief and the sting of loss– and when you really get into the motivations behind it it’s so easy to understand why the person did what they did but also acknowledge yeah no you did bad buddy you gotta pay for it now. i just???? it’s so good????

the planet and creatures that make up the game’s setting are imaginative and beautiful, i honestly love just booting it up and wandering. sometimes it’s scary as all heck because OH GOD GIANT MONSTER OUT OF NOWHERE but also… that just adds to the immersion and feeling like you’re a tiny fish in a big, big sea… and when you’re strong enough to stand up to those monsters it’s the most satisfying thing in the world.

the musical direction is honestly up to taste- i personally adore xcx’s soundtrack, but those not a huge fan of hiroyuki sawano’s works might find it lacking. here’s a personal favourite!

point is, it’s super fun, i want to do an araceli run sometime if i can ever be arsed to go back on my wii u or it gets a switch port, and a verse would be fun to play around with… i’m not a huge jrpg person, but i really really like xcx. also, fans of matthew mercer– he’s in this one, too! he plays lao huang, one of my all time favourite characters tbh

point is it is flawed, yes, but it’s also a very solid jrpg that i had fun sinking hours into and i’d totally do so again

A – favourite game of all time?

my top fave game of all time? easy! it’s the legend of zelda: wind waker!

it wins in both nostalgia points and a critical eye as i’ve gotten older– as a little kid, it was the first game i ever actually beat all by myself! the gamecube was the first home console i ever got to own– for a while i lived with my granny, who wasn’t very big on gaming if that makes sense? and then after moving back in with my mom she got me one for christmas and a friend lent me wind waker after i tried playing it at his house and repeatedly got stuck in the forsaken fortress. the excitement of finally making it past that and seeing this big, bright, beautiful world and story unfold before me has stuck with me to this day?? idk how to explain it i just. wind waker was an important game in my childhood, and i’ve played through it a loooooot– mostly i’ve noticed it was during times of stress or particular loneliness. everyone has that one game that’s been there™ for them during times of duress, and wind waker has always been mine.

okay i’m read more-ing the rest of this because i… went on for a WHILE. which is also why i answered it last oops. tl;dr there are many reasons why i love this game and it’s still my fave even now that i’m nearly 23.

as an adult, i’ve found that from a technical standpoint the game holds up really well, too– even without the hd remake on the wii u wind waker is still a very beautiful, stylistic game; a major benefit to having taken the art in a more cartoony direction is that it prevents the game from aging too much; if you were to look at the vanilla gamecube edition now, it still holds up amazingly! (meanwhile, i find that while twilight princess is still lovely, the more realistic art direction tends to date it a little. i could look at the original and just know the era it was made in, whereas if i never saw wind waker before, i would question it.)

the textures are rather blurry, sure, but that was a product of the time– hypatia on tumblr actually produced a mod with hd textures for roms of the gamecube version– check out these comparasion shots of the then-work in progress mod versus the original textures… and then here’s a few polished shots of the mod with a few extra effects dolphin/ishiiruka can provide. in short, the original wind waker is a very, very beautiful game and age has done very little to tarnish that even with the remake’s updated graphics.

but obviously graphics don’t make or break a game, though proper presentation is important– wind waker’s story also resonates with me deeply in various aspects. as an older sister, the initial quest to set out and rescue your younger sibling in danger caught my attention and held it fast; they do a very good job of making you feel attached to aryll, and the scene where she is kidnapped always tugs at my heartstrings every time i see it. watching this young boy who lived the world’s most quiet little life on a tiny island suddenly get swept up into this grand, big adventure to rescue someone dear to him and becoming an actual hero – despite having no relation to oot link whatsoever! – is the quintessential coming of age story that most people can relate to, and watching that change as the game plays out is always really sweet???

it was nice watching link’s development through his little actions: the backing away from helmaroc king when he first storms the fortress and then confident staring it down the second time and then giving it what for– aside from ganondorf himself that’s my favourite boss in the game if only because of those moments of development. link’s not just some kid from outset in over his head anymore– he’s a hero who overcame the trials of the goddesses himself in the name of protecting his baby sister, and he will not fail again. and then, after he could easily just throw in the towel and take his sister home because he accomplished what he set out to do, link goes on and sees it through to the end anyways because restoring order to the world is the right thing to do– there’s no legacy of knights looming over his head like several of his other incarnations. there’s no grand kingdom, there are only desolate little islands. there’s a princess, but… he barely knows her. hell, she didn’t even know she was a princess until that moment.

the story also touches on themes of death and the ends of eras… but also ends on a note of hope and new beginnings– clinging to the past only leads to ruin, and we must create opportunities for ourselves and the world to grow. hyrule is actually completely washed away by the end, and ganondorf goes with it– unless we assume breath of the wild is in the adult timeline, that’s it. he’s gone FOREVER in the subsequent games, with bellum and malledeus taking his place as the main villain. the kingdom link and tetra found is called new hyrule, but that’s all they share in significance– it’s their own land, just like the king said. that final scene of wind waker with the king always got to me– that message of hope is so poignant and powerful, i just. i don’t know how to put it into words, but it’s a scene i love dearly.

then there’s the music and cast of characters, and even quests and gameplay? i know the sailing could get tedious but i always liked it; it was relaxing to me just watching the virtual waves and listening to that beautiful score?? the characters are all bright and unique and fun– they’ve got their own little lives and you can impact them in so many different ways and things definitely change once you do?? like starting windfall vs windfall after you do a few sidequests or even turn on the ferris wheel and lighthouse again feel so different? it’s a neat little detail i’ve always found!!

…i really need to stop rambling about wind waker now i actually dozed off a bit typing this post, oops.

#long post;#◈▏▐ ❛ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ sᴀᴛɪsғʏ ʏᴏᴜ / ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ. ❜ ― ( latrocinari )#◈▏▐ ❛ ᴄʜɪɪ ɪs sᴘᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ. ❜ ― ( ooc )#◈▏▐ ❛ ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ʏᴇᴛ. ❜ ― ( meme )

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