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cellythefloshie · 2 months ago

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;; All Too Well (10-Minute Version) Written for The Eras Tour Hockeyblr Fic Challange

Summary: Love blossoms quickly, but fades even faster. When a chance meeting at a cocktail party introduces you to Vince, your whirlwind connection feels like the beginning of something lasting. But as seasons change, so do intentions. Kinks & TW: age gap (younger reader), implied car sex, toxic relationship, unprotected sex — the smut in this fic is REALLY mild. Like blink and you miss it, because it just didn't fit the vibes like I had expected it to. There was so much more story to tell. Word Count: 14.9k+ Author Notes: A huge thank you to @comphy-and-cozy and @wyattjohnston for putting this challenge together. I have found myself to be a blossoming Swiftie since the release of Midnights, so I was very excited to take part! And it was very much a challenge to me (though @hockeyboysimagines would probably argue differently) when I received All Too Well as my song. This was a song I had listened to 2 times before this fic. Once upon its release while watching the video, and again while watching The Eras Tour when it was released on streaming platforms. So I had this song on repeat a lot while planning and writing this fic. I would also like to say a huge THANK YOU to @laurenairay who was sweet enough to review my outline AND the fic when it was complete because I was terrified that I was missing key points to the song and needed another Swiftie's opinion. This is a well loved song, and therefore an intimidating song. I hope I did it justice ❤️ This fic is also posted in chapters on Archive of Our Own.

As the bright orange and turquoise taxi drove further from the heart of downtown Toronto, the more out of place it became. Towering buildings became squat, and traffic thinned as it traveled over the smooth streets. Soon, buildings did not stand side by side with nothing but a mere alley between them, Yards began to sprawl and trees stood tall as your ride took you further into what you called cottage country - though it was nothing more than a quiet neighborhood that had Lake Ontario at their doorstep.

It was a long ride from the city, and you kept yourself busy in the back of the taxi. You fixed your hair with the help of the rearview mirror and a few bobby pins. Next, you fixed your makeup, taking it from day to night with a little more mascara and a darker shade of lipstick. Then, you checked your phone, rereading the message from your best friend:

Dinner and cocktails tonight, dress for the occasion.

Sighing softly, you looked down at the slinky slip dress that had spent the day in the bottom of your purse. It was a color that was your favorite, but no matter how desperately you smoothed your hands over the fabric, you could still see the wrinkles left behind. It was a little detail you would have to force yourself to ignore, and one you hoped no one else would notice. You fiddled with the fabric until you felt the taxi come to the stop at your destination.

You looked up at the crowded driveway first, taking a nervous breath through your teeth as you noticed how many cars were parked along it and down the street. Your eyes lingered on the cars as you dug through your purse for your wallet. Then you looked at your driver, smiling as you paid your fare and thanked him for the ride. As you stepped out of the back seat, your heels clicking again on the pavement, feelings of excitement and nerves swirled in your chest. Sweaty palms attempted to smooth out the fabric of your dress one last time before you approached the house. At first, all you could hear was the sound of your own footsteps, but as you grew closer, you could already hear the hum of conversation and clinking glasses before you could cross the threshold of the door.

When you reached the large, heavy door, you wasted no time knocking. You didn’t need to. Your best friend’s place was practically your second home. Besides, no one would have heard it, anyway. Inside, the warm glow of the chandelier greeted you in the entryway. There was no one there to greet you, but you could hear the beckoning of voices in the dining room. Taking a deep breath, you tucked your purse away with the coats and delved into the party as if you were walking into the cold of the lake: one toe at a time.

Moving into the dining room, you wore a soft smile to hide the panic that festered in the back of your mind. You didn’t recognize anyone - and judging by the side eyes they greeted you with; they didn’t recognize you either. Great.

Hands flexing into fists before relaxing at your side, you moved deeper into the dining room and found the table set up with drinks and finger food to hold everyone over until dinner was served. You took a flute of champagne between your fingers, and for a moment considered grabbing two. Smiling, you reached out for a second glass, but then you heard your friend excitedly greeting you. So you settled on one.

You sipped your sweet champagne slowly as you turned in place, your lips curling up along the rim of the glass at the sight of your best friend. She was stunning, dressed in a white cocktail gown that fluttered around her knees as she seemed to glide through the room. She looked almost ethereal in the light, the perfect host, and the beautiful bride to be. Your lips parted to compliment her, your arms opening to accept her incoming hug, but you teased her instead, “I didn’t realize you knew so many people.”

She laughed into your hair before she pulled back, her arm looping through yours. “Blame my fiance. This is practically his event. All of his teammates, plus their wives and girlfriends. Some family and friends too. Thought hosting a night at the house was the least we could do after having everyone travel in for the wedding—and speaking of the least I could do…” her words trailed off as she looked around the room for something - or someone, “... I have someone I want to introduce you to.”

Your interest piqued, your eyebrow raising as she led you through the home and into the backyard. The deck seemed to glow in the dim light of fairy lights. But the fire that burned down below, where a group of men gathered, burned brighter. Some had women on their arms, like subtle accessories, as the men seemed to hold the conversation, while others stood alone. Behind them all as they stood together, dressed in relaxed suits and party dresses as they drank from champagne flutes or crisp aluminum cans, the sun sunk low on the horizon.

Among them was your best friend’s fiance, his smile easy and welcoming as you approached. It attracted your friends like gravity, her arm slipping away from yours and she glided to him, fitting into the group so effortlessly that, for a moment, it left you feeling out of place. You took a long, nervous sip of your drink that almost left you choking as she returned her attention to you. She beckoned you with the simple wave of her arm, enticing you to join the circle around the dancing flames.

“Everyone, this is my best friend,” she finished the introduction with your name.

“The one she never shuts up about,” her husband teased her, earning a playful slap from the back of her hand against his chest.

You laughed along with everyone softly, quietly finding your place among the group, intending to be nothing more but a wallflower until dinner time. That was until she was speaking your name again to capture your attention. Then, she was calling out to someone else, “Vince, hey!”

When you saw who exactly she was speaking to, your stomach did a small flip that made it feel knotted. Vince was just on the other side of the crowd, lost in laughter, until his name cut through the conversation. Your friend’s voice had demanded attention in an instant and he answered it with a smile that sent a rush of warmth through you. Suddenly you devoted attention completely to him, the world narrowing just to him and the party suddenly gone. Looking at Vince was like looking at a Disney Prince. His dark hair that curled just above his forehead, and his green eyes that paled in the amber glow of the fire. Your gaze fixated on his stare as he moved around the crowd and closer to you—and when his eyes flickered away from your friend and to you for a mere moment, you could see a glimmer of something there. What that was, you would have to figure out.

“This is the friend I was telling you about,” your friend smiled and with the introduction made she found her place at her fiance’s side.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Vince spoke. His voice was smooth and warm like velvet as he extended his hand out to clasp yours. You shook it slowly, your touch lingering as your pulse pounded against the delicate flesh of your neck.

“I wish I could say the same,” you admitted slowly, trying to calm the thoughts that raced through your mind, “but I appear to be at a disadvantage. Seems she talks a lot more about me than she has to me about you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Your words had come off harsher than you had meant to. But it was just the reality of it all. Your best friend hadn’t spoken of Vince at all. No texts, no calls. All you knew of him was what you could see on the surface, but you knew better than to judge a book by its pretty cover. And while you hoped your appearance alone would make a good first impression, you didn’t want Vince walking away with superficial feelings.

The two of you talked until dinner time, scraping the mere surface of your lives. You told him what you did for work, and how he had spent his summer training for the next season of hockey. Conversation had flown with ease, and it left you disappointed as you both went your separate ways in the dining room. You circled the table slowly, watching as people slowly found their way into place seated in front of their place card.

Of course, she would have assigned seating.

You had hoped that you would spend your night seated beside your friend, but now you would be stuck making small talk with strangers. You took a desperate sip of your drink as you rounded the table, chugging back the harsh bubbles of your champagne as you found your place card at the opposite end of the table, right next to Vince.

You smiled inwardly at your friend’s not-so-subtle matchmaking move. While you wish she had been a little more coy, it was one you couldn’t help but appreciate.

The conversation reignited between you and Vince with soft pleasantries - before the first course finished; his easy humor left you laughing. Vince was funny, effortlessly making you laugh in ways that made you laugh in ways that you forget strangers surrounded you and you were doing your best to play it cool. Throughout dinner, the conversation flowed easily between you and Vince. The clatter of plates and mummer of voices faded into the background as you lost track of time, engrossed in his stories, his laugh and the way his eyes seemed to linger on yours. Vince made you feel like the only person at the table, and despite what you learned to be a seven-year age gap, the two of you shared an undeniable spark that you couldn’t quite explain.

The conversation you shared over dinner felt intimate. Almost like a first date, though you were surrounded by people—or at least, you thought you were. As time slipped by, the two of you didn’t notice how the table cleared around you, or how the guests had slipped away until it was just the two of you that remained. Only did you notice when your friend approached, her evening wear replaced with a fluffy robe and a sleepy smile on her face.

“Do I need to get a room ready for you?” she teased gently, her eyes flicking between you and Vince.

You gasped out a soft apology, only then realizing just how late it had gotten. “No, I should really just catch a cab home.”

You stood quickly; the chair dragging harshly across the floor as you quickly moved to gather your things. Your cheeks were red hot with embarrassment at how you let yourself get carried away with him - but he didn’t seem to mind. He followed just behind you in your stride, gathering his own coat that now hung alone next to your own.

“Let me walk you out?” He offered gently.

You accepted the offer with your own smile, your eyes falling to your feet as he opened the front door. The night air was cool, a welcome relief from the warmth of the party. It left you shrugging on your coat as you walked together down the driveway, your steps slow and hesitant. You didn’t want the night to end, not when Vince had made what you expected to be an awkward night one you didn’t want to forget. You reached the end of the driveway together, waiting awkwardly at the curb for your taxi to arrive, but it was the first moment that night the two of you were truly alone.

That thought gave you butterflies in your stomach as you watched him reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. “Here, put your number in?”

“Yeah,” you smiled a little too wide as you reached into your bag and pulled out your own phone. You traded them, and you added yourself as a contact in his phone. As you returned his phone to him, the subtle touch of his fingers against your hand leaving you to hold your breath, a taxi arrived and parked at the end of the drive.

“You take the first one,” Vince told you, stepping towards the taxi to open the door for you. He gave you just enough room to slip inside before he was leaning down, one arm on the door of the cab and the other over the top. If it were anyone else, you might have panicked, feeling confined in the tiny back seat of the taxi, but as stupid as it was, you felt safe with Vince.

“Goodnight,” he said, his smile soft as his eyes left yours to linger on your lips for just a moment before he closed the door behind you.

You leaned your head back against the seat, silently cursing how pathetic you were for wishing he had tried to kiss you. Biting your lip, you rolled the window down, and leaned your head out of it, echoing his voice with your own feeble, “goodnight.”

You settled into your seat with a sinking heart. Your night was over. Meeting the eyes of your driver in the rearview mirror, you gave him the address of home and you left your friend's home and Vince behind you. But your thoughts remained on Vince — the way he made you laugh, the way his presence made the whole evening feel different. Special. You didn’t know what had started that night, but you knew something was there, and you could wait to see where it would go.

Your best friend’s wedding had been beautiful, but it paled in comparison to what continued to grow between you and Vince in the week that followed. Seemingly overnight, the two of you had become inseparable. If you weren’t together, you were always texting or calling, your connection seeming to grow deeper with each casual date you shared. It was like the last days of summer, hot and vibrant. But as the days became consumed by the cooler temperature that would become autumn, whatever you and Vince shared only continued to grow.

Friday of the September long weekend, he picked you up from your downtown Toronto apartment, and the two of you took to the road. The city skyline was shrinking behind you, seen only in the rearview mirror. You didn’t know where Vince was taking you, but you didn’t need to. You were happy just being there with him, one of his hands on the wheel while the other rested comfortably on your knee. The radio was turned up loud. Shania Twain’s greatest hits the soundtrack of your road trip, her lyrics leaving both of your lips as you sang along. You danced in your seat, the seatbelt the only thing holding you back as you felt the music. And Vince sang, his tone carefree and out of tune as his thumb moved in slow, lazy circles on your knee. Your eyes dropped, watching the careful stroke, smiling as you sang.

But then your gaze shifted upward, and the world around you snapped back into focus. The glow of the solid red light was harsh against your eyes, but the car was still moving full speed. Vince hadn’t even tried to slow down, because instead of looking at the lights, he had been looking over at you.

“Vince!” you shouted, pointing towards the red light.

His head whipped around, his soft expression hardening with alarm as his foot slammed onto the brake. The car screeched to a stop, your seatbelt restricting around your chest as your body jerked forward before falling back against the seat.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the radio and the sound of your hastened breaths as the shock of what could have been hung over you both. Then Vince turned in his seat, the seatbelt straining against his chest as he looked at you. He reached out with both hands, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he looked you over with his eyes that were left wide with concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his thumb stroking your skin as if to soothe the shock that left you feeling sick to your stomach.

You nodded, your heart still pounding against your chest. And then he kissed you. The touch of his lips against yours brought an instant calm. He brushed over yours so sweetly, so gently, that it washed away all the tension, and when he pulled back, his kiss lingered in the calm between you until an impatient honk from the car broke it.

The light had turned green.

Pulling back, Vince smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back, leaning your head against the seat as you relaxed. You let it lull to the side, watching the trees as they passed, their leaves only just beginning to change from their vibrant greens to shades of gold and crimson and had yet to fall lazily to the ground. You watched them until you noticed the car turn off the main road. The anticipation built as the car wound its way up a long driveway lined with trees. You sat up straight in your seat at the sight of the house at the end of the drive. It was a cozy home, nestled against the horizon where the sun was already beginning to set. Your hands gripped into fists in your lap nervously. Vince hadn’t told you where you were going. You didn’t know whose house this was, or why you were there. So as he switched the music off, you looked to him for answers.

“Come on, it and meet everybody,” he said with an easy smile, and he was already climbing out of the car before you had the chance to answer.

“Everyone?” You muttered to yourself, slowly stepping out of the car to hear a small crunch beneath your feet. Looking down, you narrowed your eyes. A child’s toy? Kneeling down, you picked up the broken pieces and cradled them in your hands. Then you looked out over the sprawling yard, taking in the little details you hadn’t quite noticed on the drive up. The yard was alive with the signs of a family. Scattered in the grass were children’s toys, and a small play structure with swings sat in the shadow of the house. You could even hear faint laughter in the distance. For a moment, you stood still, taking it all in before following the path Vince had taken inside.

The front door swung open to a rush of warmth that graced your cheeks like a kiss. It came from both the heat of the house, and the feeling of home that lingered there. You didn’t know what quite gave you the feeling. It could have been the soft lighting from decorative table lamps, the scent of a home cooked meal that lingered in the air, or the symphony of voices you could hear in the next room - or a combination of them all - but it all put you at ease. The unfamiliar place felt so familiar as you stepped out of your shoes and hung your red scarf and coat over the bannister where other coats were already piled.

With the broken toy in hand, you walked deeper into the house, where many unfamiliar faces greeted you. The first, after a quick introduction, you learned was Vince’s mother, who smiled at you warmly and pulled you into a soft hug. Then, there was his brother and his wife who welcomed you into their home as if you were no stranger at all. Vince’s step-father was too caught up with the kids to offer much more than a quick hello and a smile, but it all still felt natural, so easy. Like you belonged there.

“I’m sorry,” you told Vince’s sister-in-law with a soft voice, “I stepped on one of the toys in the yard.”

You offered the pieces to her on the bed of your palms, but she waved it off like it was nothing.

“They have so many they won’t even notice this one’s gone,” she assured with a soft smile. And while you just met her, her smile felt genuine. “Mom and I were just going to finish up dinner. Would you like to join us in the kitchen?”

You shot a quick side-eyes glance to Vince, his nephew’s swarmed him, taking all of his attention. Their laughter rang throughout the room as they clung to his legs, pulling him towards the games they were playing with their grandfather. You got lost in the sight of his care and gentleness with the children, but also the carefree silliness that sent them wild with laughter. A part of you wanted to join him, but Vince had brought you there to meet his family, so you offered his sister-in-law a smile and followed her into the kitchen.

There wasn’t much more to be done for dinner. Vince’s brother had chicken and ribs out on the barbeque, leaving the rest of you to work on the sides. You were quickly assigned to chopping up vegetables for a salad. But Vince’s mother, who snuck into the kitchen with a photo album, quickly interrupted your duties cradled in her arms.

“You have to see these,” she said, a mischievous smile on her lips as she opened the album up in an open space on the counter. You stood alongside her as she flipped through the pages, your smile growing when you saw a young Vince among the photographs. He couldn’t have been more than five in the picture, and wore a pair of thick glasses on his face, and a shy smile on his lips as he sat on his bed in his bedroom that was decorated floor to ceiling with Toronto Maple Leafs memorabilia.

“That’s him,” Tracy confirmed, her words laced with a laugh that was warm like a mother's embrace, “back when he was on the Timbits team. His grandfather took him to every single game.” The stories flowed easily, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Tracy pointed at another picture of Vince. He was around the same age in the last picture, but this time, he was beaming proudly as he stood in his oversized hockey equipment. “He used to trip over his skates more than he’d actually skate.”

Leaning over the book, you admired each photograph and welcomed each story his mother offered to tell. You were so completely enthralled in the moment that you didn’t even notice Vince approaching until his one arm was around your shoulders and the other rested around his mothers. He planted a quick kiss on your cheek, yet he was the one with flushed cheeks, embarrassed.

“You’re telling stories, aren’t you?” Vince grinned as he reached out for the family photo album. He shut it slowly before reaching it up to place it on a shelf up high and out of reach.

“Oh, you’re no fun,” his mother teased. “Why bring a girl home if that means I don’t get to embarrass you?”

“You do that well enough without breaking out the photo albums,” he assured, pressing a kiss to her temple before he took his place next to you. He offered you a sweet smile before reaching out for the knife you had abandoned and continued with your work in the kitchen. You helped him where he could. His presence beside you felt easy - like you were already part of the family, fitting so effortlessly into his line.

That feeling only grew throughout the evening. It felt right, like the changing of the seasons-natural, inevitable, and beautiful.

When it had come time to leave, the sun had long dipped below the horizon, casting a deep indigo hue over the world outside. The air was cool, the warmth of the house fading as you and Vince stepped out onto the front porch. Both hands raised to clutch at the breast of your jacket, trying to keep the chill of the night from your neck as the cold enveloped you. A single hand clutched the neck of your coat, your steps stuttering down the steps as you realized you had forgotten your scarf on the banister. But before you could go back, before you could even say a word, Vince was smiling at you as he tossed his car keys at you.

Your eyes went wide, your hands reaching out only to fumble for them. The keys jingled as they hit the ground, his keychain half buried in the dirt. It left your hands dusty as you knelt down and picked it up from where they rested at your feet.

“You drive,” Vince smiled at you playfully, “we’re just going up the road.”

The soft glow of the porch light cast a soft twinkle in his eyes as he spoke. You mirrored his soft smile as you gripped the cool metal of his keys in your hand and moved towards the car. It was another small, simple moment between the two of you, yet your stomach fluttered full of butterflies every time. You didn’t know if it was excitement, nerves or the anxiety of knowing that summer was over and autumn was to begin and all of what you had in just a week could be gone. But you didn’t dwell on it. Instead, you slipped into the driver's seat, taking the time to adjust the mirrors, and started the engine.

Its rumble cut through the stillness of the night, the grinding of rubber tired against gravel roads, the new soundtrack of your night as you drove down the quiet country road. It was lined with trees that cast long shadows across the ground, their leaves beginning to bare as their leaves changed from the brilliant green of summer to the gold and maroons of fall.

Vince sat, relaxed in the passenger seat beside you, his seat leaned back and his arm draped casually across the back of your seat. It remained there during the short drive down the road, one that led you to a secluded dead end nestle deep within the property. You looked around, the car lights illuminating the trees and brush around you. Then, suddenly, the light was gone, and darkness surrounded you. You almost jumped, startled, before you realized Vince’s hand had left the back of your seat and he had reached across and turned off the engine. Then, without a word, his hand fell to your seatbelt. He unbuckled it with the simple press of two fingers before his hands, gentle but insistent, found your hip. Vince guided you across the center console and into his lap.

Your knees rested on each side of him, squished between the car door, the console, and his body. It left the passenger seat feeling small, intimate, as you shifted your weight just right to comfortably settle against him. Your hands came to rest on the car seat, on each side of his head, but Vince’s hands came up to stroke loose strands of hair from your face. The gesture made your heart race, the world outside the car falling away, leaving you both seemingly the only two people in it. Then, with his hand still lingering on your cheek, Vince drew you in, and placed a slow kiss on your lips.

His kiss sent a wave of warmth to spread through your body, your breath hitching in the back of your throat. You shuddered in his lap, your lips meeting his sweet and gentle kiss that became deeper as he felt your eagerness to kiss and be kissed by him. Slowly, his hands strayed from the angles of your face, his feather light touch dragging down your body. His touch coasted over your shoulder, knocking your cardigan sleeve down your arm and teasing the exposed skin with the ghost of his touch before each of his hands settled on the swell of your hip. His grip tightened there, drawing you closer, your skirt inching up your thigh, and you let out a soft sound. It was not quite a moan, but more than a sigh, as your stomach swirled with the dance of butterflies. Your entire body was buzzing with the electric, weightless feeling—it felt like you might float away if Vince dared to let you go.

His hands didn’t leave you as you finally pulled back, breathless, your eyes meeting him in a dreamy stare. Taking a shuddering breath, your teeth caught your swollen bottom lip as his fingertips slipped beneath your skirt. His touch graced parts of you he was only just discovering as he whispered out, “I leave after the long weekend.”

His words were soft, almost apologetic, and hung in the air between you like a heavy weight. It sent your heart sinking a little in your chest, the reality of his departure setting in. It felt like a goodbye, your week-long whirlwind romance coming to its harsh and bitter end, as you should have expected from the start. Yet, a small voice inside you couldn’t help but wonder why Vince had made it more than just a fling. Why had gone through the trouble of taking you to meet his family if he was just going to leave?

You dwelled on that thought, your gaze leaving him to look out the window at the darkness that swallowed everything beyond the car window. You saw nothing but the blackness of night, your bite on your own lip growing sharper until Vince’s words cut through the quiet and eased your racing mind. “I want to fly you out to see me in Seattle when the preseason is over. Would you do that for me?”

His words sparked something inside you, excitement - no, hope - replacing the sinking feeling in your chest. Maybe this didn’t have to end today. You nodded quickly, your hair falling back into your face. It brought Vince’s touch back up to your face, his hands brushing it back behind your ear as he chuckled softly.

“Good,” he muttered, leaning in to kiss you again. But this time, the kiss was deeper, more urgent.

You parted your lips for him, welcoming the taste of his tongue as it met yours. The intoxication of his kiss left your head spinning in the best way. Your hands ran up over his chest, wrinkling the simple fabric of his t-shirt, wishing you could peel it off of him. You were ready; you wanted more, and as if he could read your mind, Vince’s hands inched higher up your skirt.

Your hold tilted back as you gasped, a single hand reaching out and finding the cold glass of the car window. It slipped briefly over the slick condensation, bracing yourself against it as the touch of his hands graced the most intimate parts of your body, as if solidifying the promise you’d just made.

The plane began its slow descent, the city of Seattle spreading out beneath you like an ocean of lights glittering against the early evening skies. Your head rested against the wall of the plane, your eyes watching out the window as the details of the skyline came into view. But you couldn’t focus on the landmarks in view, not when your thoughts were racing - drifting excitingly to Vince. It was later in the season than you had originally planned to visit him. But early in the season, Vince had been injured. He needed the time to heal, and he wanted you to see him play when you visited. It led to greater time apart, but it didn’t feel as distant as the miles between you. Not when he was so eager to text, to call, and when date night could still happen on a video call. The two of you had spent countless late nights together, and each one made you more excited to see him.

You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding and filled as your mind was clouded - stupid with the kind of love that made everything else seem insignificant. Your flight had been delayed, and you had spent hours seated beside a baby who wailed most of the flight. But you didn’t complain. Not once, because when it was all over, you’d get to see Vince. You let out a dreamy sigh. Love. You really did love him. You could feel it in how your heart skipped in just the thought of him. Sure, maybe it was too soon. The two of you had only been together three months, but you felt it. And you were sure Vince felt it too. Why else would he have introduced you to his family, and fly you all the way out to Seattle to spend the weekend with him? It felt like it was all building up to something bigger—for him to say the words. This weekend, Vince would tell you he loved you, you were sure of it.

The plane landed smoothly, and after gathering your carry-on, you made your way through the airport to the baggage carousel. You watched as each bag went around and around, the familiar buzz of the bustle that consumed airports all around you as you waited for your small bag to catch your eye. And when you found it, you were off like a shot, your focus on one thing: Finding Vince.

You found him standing just outside the doors for the pickup of arrivals. He was leaning up against the passenger door of his car, his black coat unbuttoned although the wind was cold and greeted you with the harsh reality that while winter on the coast was different, it was still cold. You regretted leaving your coat shoved in your bag, but you wasted no time in pulling it out to put it on. Instead, you ran to him, your smile growing with his as his eyes locked on you.

His arms and warmth wrapped around you, your bag dropping to the ground as your arms wrapped around him in return. Your fingers clung to him for the first time in months, his strength lifting you off the ground as he pulled you into a tight embrace. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, and the soft kiss of his lips as he placed a simple kiss there before he returned you to your feet. Then, his hands slid down the angles of your back, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve missed you,” he spoke gently, sending a shy smile over your lips as he helped you into the passenger seat. You welcomed the warmth of the car as you tucked your carry on between your feet, finally opening it to pull out your coat as Vince put your bag in the back seat. You watched him in the mirrors as he rounded the car and met his smile as he sat beside you in the driver's seat.

“We’ve got the entire weekend,” Vince said, his smile easy. “I’ve got plans for us- dinner tonight, then tomorrow you’ll come to one of my games, and Monday morning, I’ll drop you off at the airport.”

“That sounds great,” you nodded, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you. It felt just as it had at the end of summer—there was a level of comfort you had with Vince that you couldn’t quite explain. One that simply being around him put you at ease, and left you excited for the weekend to come. It felt perfect, like a dream.

The ride from the airport to his apartment was quick, but with the delay you faced with your flight you were already running behind for your dinner reservation.

“The bathroom’s just there if you want to freshen up. I’ll call the guys and tell them we’re going to be a little late,” Vince told you gently, and you perked up? The guys? He was taking you to meet his friends — his teammates?

“I’ll just need a minute to change,” you assured, dragging your suitcase into the bathroom with you before you shut the door.

You looked over it with wide eyes and suddenly panicked. If you were going to be meeting his friends, you wanted to make a good impression. Dropping to your knees, you sorted through the clothes you had brought. At one time, while you were packing, you told yourself you had packed too much. That you wouldn’t have needed so much for two days, but now, as there were so many unknowns, you were relieved that you had let yourself over prepare. You traded your comfortable pants for a nice skirt and pair of tights, and your hooded sweatshirt for a turtleneck sweater and a dainty necklace. A pair of black boots replaced what you always wore to travel. And then all you had to worry about was hair and makeup. If you had more time, you would have styled it. But all you could really afford to do was touch up your lipstick, your mascara and tame any flyaway strands. Then, if you felt ready or not, it was time to leave.

Hand in hand, you walked with Vince down the sidewalks of Seattle. The restaurant was nearby, leaving you to enjoy the crisp autumn air that mingled with the smell of rain that had fallen and the scent of fallen leaves as they weighed down wet and heavy on the sidewalk. The wet pavement reflected the amber glow of the streetlights that flirted with the red, yellow and greens of the stoplights in your path. You admired every detail of the city Vince called his second home, small talk that didn’t really feel like small talk slipping from your lips. After months apart, there was so much for you to share, to catch up on, but the moment you walked through the restaurant doors and Vince’s hand fell from yours, the air became heavy, silent.

“Reservation under Dunn,” he spoke to the hostess, who greeted him with a soft smile and eyes that were only for him. You watched her for a moment, her everything the very opposite of you. It made your stomach sink as his smile matched hers, so easily — so effortlessly it seemed like more than just being nice.

Slowly, you slipped off your coat and hung it over your arms and hugged it to your chest. It was like a blanket of armor as you followed Vince through the restaurant like his shadow. You kept your head down, watching his heels, and scared to look up as the clamour of your table grew loud. It was only a small group of his friends, none of whose faces you recognised, but it sounded like an entire team. Four men, all comfortable in their seats with no girlfriends, only empty bottles to keep them company.

One hand slipped out from beneath your coat, reaching out to Vince for even a semblance of comfort, but he was already out of reach taking his seat at the table.

“Sorry, we're late,” Vince said casually. “Someone had to change.”

You had the sudden urge to vomit, the embarrassment all consuming as you draped your jacket over the last empty chair at the table. It was at the very corner of the table at one end. Vince sat to your right, and there was an empty walkway to your left.

He introduced you by name, before nodding around the table to each of his friends. Tye, Brandon, Ryan and Shane. Some of them offered subtle nods, others a simple hello as you seated yourself at the table and suddenly you felt out of place. As Vince fell into conversation with his friends, you felt like nothing more than a decoration as you glanced over the menu. Around you, the laughter felt distant, and the conversation felt impossible to contribute to. Your shoulders felt heavy with the feeling that you didn’t quite fit in, and it had you desperate or any kind of comfort.

You reached for Vince’s hand under the table, seeking his touch and reassurance. It brushed over the top of his thigh before flipping, laying your palm open for his hand to take. His hand dropped from the table, but instead of taking yours, he gently took you by the wrist and placed your hand back in your lap. And he left it there, untouched.

Your front teeth bit down on your lip to keep your mouth from falling open. His actions sent your heart sinking so deeply into your chest that you felt empty. Dread was all-consuming, and your embarrassment was so heavy that you thought about grabbing your coat and walking towards the door. Instead, you reached out for the glass of red wine in front of you. You took a long sip and tried to swallow that knot that formed in your throat down with it as you fought back the tears that threatened to spill.

When the server brought you your plate, you didn’t touch it, and once your first glass of wine was empty, you didn’t indulge yourself in another. The laughter, the conversations, even the clinking of silverware continued all around you, but you didn’t do more than breathe and stare at the empty glass that had nothing more than a single drop of wine resting at the very bottom. It was mere background noise as you retreated into your thoughts, heavy and spiraling.

Your silence followed you from the table and hung heavily over you and Vince on the walk back to his place. The autumn rain had left the streets glistening, and there was a chill in the air that left your skin prickled with goosebumps. As the temperature dropped, rain became glistening snow, and Vince’s hand reached out to yours as the two of you walked alone in the streets, but you didn’t take it. Not after he had made you feel the way he had, and your mind was spinning with questions you weren’t sure how to ask.

But the moment you arrived back at Vince’s place. His words cut through the silence.

“Why are you so pissed off?” Vince almost sounded offended, and if you weren’t so angry, you might have laughed at him.

You kicked off your shoes at the door, leaving them toppled over, before you walked away from him and to the kitchen with your left overs that your stomach was aching for. Your shoulders shrugged as you opened the fridge and tucked them away. When you closed it, Vince was leaning up against the cupboard just on the other side, waiting for answers.

“I’m not pissed off. Who said I was pissed off?” You answered him with a question of your own, your words firm and heavy with the hurt that still hung over you.

“Cause you’re acting pissed off,” Vince huffed, his hand reaching up to push through his curls, “Is it because of my friends? Because they were super fucking nice to you-”

“I liked your friends. I never said I didn’t like your friends,” you set him straight quickly. “I didn’t like the way you acted around them.”

“What do you mean?” His face softened, perplexed.

You laughed out a short and hollow ha as you circled in the kitchen. You couldn’t stand still.

“You didn’t even look at me once!” Your voice raised, though you were trying your best not to yell.

“Oh, come on,” he scoffed.

“You didn’t say one to thing the entire night-”

“That’s such bullshit, and you know it,” he punctuated his words with your name, and it only made them sting more.

“And you dropped my fucking hand! What am I supposed to do with that?” Your voice strained as you grew closer and closer to tears.

“I didn’t even fucking notice–What are you talking about?” Vince’s brow furrowed. “I was catching up with my friends! What are you trying to make this entire night about you?”

It was at that moment you wanted to scream, because the night was supposed to be about you. He was the one who flew you out to Seattle just to see you. To show you the city and introduce him to his friends, his team, his life! And suddenly, this trip wasn’t all about you.

“You’re being so fucking selfish.” His words stung like a slap.

You stilled for the first time since coming in the door, and your head cocked to the side as you looked at Vince with narrowed eyes. “Oh, I’m selfish?”

“Right now, that’s exactly what’s happening!”

Your face went blank, wearing a doe eyes stare as you were suddenly void of any anger as you looked at him. You held only disbelief—had he just yelled at you?

Just as quickly as his tone shocked you, Vince’s voice softened. “Don’t look at me like that…” his words were a gentle plea as he came up beside you, his arms slipping around your waist to pull you into him.

You stood with your back against his chest, your arms hugging over his as he kissed the back of your neck softly. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, “about dinner… About everything. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

His words were soothing, easing you into a forgiveness that you shouldn’t have wanted to give him. But you hadn’t wanted to fight, you had simply just wanted Vince to hear you and he had. He was sorry.

You let Vince turn you around in place slowly, his soft playful smile on his face and bringing one to your own. “I’m sorry,” you muttered into his shoulder as you let yourself cling to him, but Vince only let you hug him for so long. Too soon he was pulling back, but his touch didn’t leave you. Instead, he turned you around in place, and swayed with you to the hum of the refrigerator like it was music.

His sudden playfulness coaxed an easy laugh from your lips as you stumbled over your own feet. He caught you with ease and led you into a dance that eased the tension that had built up during the night. It lifted the heaviness that weighed down on your chest and your shoulders, and in that moment you were back to feeling like yourself in his embrace.

This was the Vince you travelled all the way to Seattle for.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed, your voice soft but teasing as you looked up at him.

Vince grinned, twirling you slowly one last time before his hands settled on your waist. He pulled you in close, the warmth of his body enveloping you in its embrace and the world beyond his door, cold and distant. It was just the two of you, and for now, that was enough.

With a simple glance down at your lips, Vince drew you in. It wasn’t his touch, or his words, but his mere gaze drew your lips to his in a kiss you had been craving since your flight had landed. At first the kiss was soft and gentle, like his apology. But it quickly became laced with hunger, with the caress of his tongue against your lips, and you could not deny him—because denying him would also be denying yourself.

Vince picked you up with ease, his hand squeezing the soft flesh of the back of thighs as he moved blindly through his apartment. You didn’t know where he was taking you until you were laying flat against his mattress with his body climbing on top of you. Your legs parted, making room for his body against yours as he knelt there, stripping his plaid shirt from his body to begin the pile of clothes on the floor. Then he’s hovering over you, kissing your lips, and down. Down over the angle of your jaw earning a desperate pant from your lips.

His every kiss against your skin was like striking a match, and the breath that followed the oxygen to keep the fire burning. As he kissed lower, he peeled each article of clothing you wore from your body and let it join his plaid shirt on the floor. You were naked before you could even think to pull his loose white t-shirt from his shoulders. Your eyes flickered away from his face, admiring his body as he revealed it to you. Still strong, still toned, just a little more bruised and a little less rested than the last time he had you. You stroked over his chest with a featherlight touch of your fingers and you watched his face melt in relaxation. It eased Vince back from you, his hand falling to his belt.

The leather whipped from the restraints of Vince’s belt loops with a flicker of a sound, and with the simple motions of his thumb, his pants were slipping down his hips. You reached to where they rested with eager hands, gripping at the leather and pushed them down the strength of his thighs. The denim pooled there until he picked it free, his own eager hands pushing down his briefs next before he was between your thighs.

“Vince,” you breathed out his name, your heart racing against your chest as it heaved a desperate breath.

He echoed his name with your own, a single hand reaching up to push your hair from your face with the gentle caress of his hand. You nuzzled into it, as you felt the weight of his body so fully against your own. Then, your lips parted in a soft moan and left his skin marked with your favorite shade of red lipstick as he made you his own.

You had imagined the moment many times in your head.

Entering Climate Pledge Arena, as much more than a fan. You had pictured it differently each time. Sometimes you had a special jacket, custom made and embellished with the glimmer of gems or embroidery. Other times, you wore a Kraken jersey with DUNN sprawled across your back. But in every scenario, all knew who you were there to watch your boyfriend Vince Dunn—though the two of you had yet to use the label. And you’d finally get to meet the other wives and girlfriends of Vince’s teammates. The warm and fuzzy feeling of being welcomed into the tight-knit circle of wives and girlfriends was something you daydreamed about. You hoped for instant connections, for friendships that felt like sisterhood—but harsh realities quickly betrayed your imagination.

You didn’t wear a fancy new jacket.

There was no jersey for you to wear.

And while the arena was buzzing with excitement, the energy of the crowd was not enough to ease the anxiety that bubbled inside you as you reached your seat. Your seat was in the middle of the crowd, with no one expecting you or welcoming you among them, and it left your mouth tasting sour. You were just another fan in the stands.

Forcing a smile, you sat among them, your hands gripping the edge of your seat with a knuckle-white grasp. You watched as the teams took the ice, your eyes naturally drawn to Vince in his uniform. He skated with the same ease and confidence that had drawn you in that first night the two of you had met. He looked so focused, so in his element, and for a moment you forgot about the uneasiness deep in your stomach and felt proud. Proud to be there, supporting him, proud of who he was.

But not even the pride could keep the doubt from seeping in as you sat there alone in the crowd of strangers. You glanced around the seats in your section, your ice shifting from the left, to the right and to the left again as your breathing swallowed. All around you, you noticed clusters of women scattered throughout the stands. They were laughing, chatting with each other as they sipped their beer and wine. It was almost enough to make you smile until you saw DUNN written across one of their backs and the look on her face. She was looking at him like her seat wasn’t high above the ice. Like he could see the batting of her thick lashes and the coy smile on her lips as she ogled him. And she looked at him like that because nobody knew about you - because she thought that she might have a shot.

Sinking into your seat, you felt small, alone.

The feeling hung over you as the game unfolded in front of you, but the excitement you should have felt didn’t reach you. You focused on Vince, watching how effortlessly he moved on the ice. You clapped when he made a good play, and cheered when the Kraken scored, but the joy felt hollow. By the time the final buzzer rang, and the Kraken celebrated their victory down at ice level; you were unmoving in your seat, unsure how to feel.

The eruption of cheers and applause, the post game high, was lost on you as you stood in the crowd of thousands in a daze. You moved with the crowd as the arena emptied, your hand grasping your phone tight in your hand, waiting for a message from Vince to come. It took thirty minutes of waiting outside the front of the arena for a message to bring your phone to life. You were cold, one hand on your phone while the other clutched your coat tight around your neck to keep yourself from catching a chill. He told you where to meet him, and as you walked along the sidewalk, you had to keep telling yourself this was just one game. But the hollow feeling lingered until Vince pulled up in front of you in his car and got out with such an expression you would have thought he lost you.

“There you are,�� he muttered as he got out of the car and wrapped his arms around you. And you fell into him. Your face buried into the strength of his chest and your arms wrapped around him—desperately, pathetically — trying to grasp onto the only thing that made you feel you belonged.

Back home in Toronto, things felt different. With each passing day, you were hearing from Vince less and less. You didn’t wake up each day with a sweet good morning message, and he was no longer the last person you spoke to before you went to bed at night. That was, if you heard from him at all. You tried to tell yourself that it was normal. That he was busy with hockey. His career had a demanding schedule, one that went beyond playing a game almost every other night. You understood that. So it was easy to listen to the excuses he made when he would finally text or call, his stories making you so sympathetic to why it was so hard for him to find the time to connect.

Each time you spoke, it filled you with the same fluttering feelings you had back in the beginnings of autumn. It was a warm feeling that blossomed through you on the coldest of winter days—one of hope of the days to come and fueled by the simple promise he made you: He would call you on your birthday.

Vince had told you he wished he could have been there in person, but his schedule didn’t allow it. You were forced to celebrate it apart, divided by both land and time, but the promise of his call left you floating high on excitement. You clung to the promise all day, watching your phone for any sign of him as you ran your early morning errands and got ready in the afternoon. But as the hours slipped by, the silence from him grew louder.

The sound track of your night was supposed to start with the pop of a bottle of champagne and followed the clamor of cutlery against plates as you and your family friends enjoyed a meal together at your favorite restaurant. Their laughter surrounded you, and yet, like the rest of the noise, it felt distant. Like a mere echo in the back of your mind that felt empty, free of thought, save for the one fact that left you heavy in your chair at the head of the table.

Vince still hadn’t called.

You had to focus on your breathing, forcing a steady breath when you wanted to do nothing more than sob, as you reached for your phone that rested face down on the table. The brightness was low, the subtle glow casting across your face as you checked your phone, hoping for a message, a missed call—anything.

But you found nothing.

Your father, seated beside you, caught your eye. He smiled softly, but it didn’t reach his eyes—he must have known something was wrong. He could see it in the way your mood shifted every time you looked down at your phone and found that Vince hadn’t even attempted to get hold of you.

He reached out, his warm hand resting over yours as it rested over your phone. You tried to force a smile, but as you met his gaze, it wavered. His hand squeezed yours gently, trying to offer the smallest comforts to the problem you had yet to tell him - and you didn’t want to tell him. Not when Vince had made such a good first impression when the two of them had met at the wedding months before. The conversation had been natural, and your father had laughed at every single one of his self-effacing jokes. But no one was laughing now.

On the verge of tears you pushed up from the table and let your hand slip away from the gentle hold of your fathers with every intent of running off to the bathroom to cry. But he followed in your wake, his strides on pace with yours as he followed you to the narrow hallway that divided the washrooms from the dining room. There you turned, falling back into his arms as your tears fell. You clutched to him, your fingers straining against his back as you sobbed. And he held you, one hand on your back, and the other on the back of your head, holding it carefully as you sobbed into his chest.

“He promised.” Your voice was strained, and you were sure you could hear his heart fall in his chest.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” your father’s words were soft as he murmured just low enough for you to hear, “I should’ve seen it. Should’ve known.”

You frowned, your eyes blinking back heavy tears as you tilted your head back to look up at your father. “What are you talking about?”

His head shook slowly, solemnly, his grip on you loosening slightly so he could look down at you. “I should have known that boy was no good for you. Only a fool would make you feel like this on your birthday.” His words were soft, but were heavy with regret.

Your throat tightened as you looked away. You hated how he was blaming himself. He didn’t know Vince like you did - or rather, like you thought you did. He didn’t see the way things had been in the beginning - how Vince made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered. Your father didn’t hear the promises that he made or the love you had felt. But what he did see were the broken promises and the heavy sorrow and how it consumed you.

But as you stood there in your father’s arms, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was right.

Your body shook with a quake of another sob, your father’s arms constricting around you again as he whispered, “It’s supposed to be fun, turning twenty-one.”

At the end of the night, when your parents had gone home and your friends took your party to a bar, you found your refuge at home. Your apartment was quiet, too quiet, as you closed the door behind you and let the entirety of your weight fall back against it. It was dark. The only light filtering in was from a streetlight outside your living room window. It was almost comforting just to stand there, but being back home alone only gave way for the anxiety to grow. It nagged at you in the back of your mind and consumed you so fully it felt like a snake constricted around your chest.

Your dress felt too tight around your ribs, almost suffocating. In need of any relief, you reached back to pull at the zipper, your fingers slipping along the zipper and the fabric as you struggled. The more you tugged, the more the frustration built. You stumbled on your feet in the doorway, your teeth gritting as you fought back another wave of tears, until finally your heels caught the edge of the rug. With a cry, you dropped to your knees, feeling the cold floor sting as the force rubbed your skin raw. Your vision blurred with tears, your hands clutching at the dress, desperately trying to remove it from your body with such force the zipper broke. It seemed to peel away from your skin, and you pushed it off, panting, leaving yourself to sit naked on the floor consumed by your tears.

You choked back a sob, but it slipped out anyway, filling the silence and drawing the attention of your cat that had been sleeping in your reading chair nearby. The cat perked up with a pur and jumped down to the floor with a soft thud. The little patter of the cat’s feet almost made you smile, and feeling the cat’s soft fur against your leg helped you try to focus on literally anything but your anxiety.

But it could rid you of the loneliness and betrayal you felt deep in your chest. And you were practically reeling at the memories that flooded you. Your mind was an echo chamber of Vince, his perfect smile and his laugh that had always flooded you with a happiness you couldn’t quite explain. It was like being haunted by a ghost of him, one that was born in the death of the man you knew and the birth of the man he really was.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this, not on your birthday, not in this way. Not when you thought that maybe you and Vince would be forever.

Your lip quivered as your eyes fell on your purse. It was a small clutch, just large enough for your phone, debit card and a lipstick inside. You reached for it, snatching it up with trembling fingers before you worked on the fastener. It clicked open, your phone screen dark as it rested inside. Slowly, you slipped it out onto one hard and for a second you just stared at it, your thumb hovering over the lifeless screen. Then, with a single press of your thumb, the screen came to life. No notifications greeted you. No messages from Vince. So, you sent him some of your own.

You stared at the sent messages, your eyes burning with tears that you wiped away with the back of your hand before they could leave trails down your cheeks. A sob slipped out of swollen lips, harsh and aching, as you forced yourself to your feet and finally kicked off your heels. You walked to the bathroom down the hall, and without turning the lights on, prepared to go to sleep. You scrubbed at your face, wiping away what remained of your smeared makeup, each brush of your face cloth harsh like you were trying to erase the entire night from your skin. Then, you brushed your teeth, the mint-flavored toothpaste almost making you gag as you stood bent over the sink.

Finally, you crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin, feeling the hollow ache in the depth of your chest. You pressed a hand there, as if it could somehow ease the weight of the day from your heart. The silence was heavy, broken only by the sound of your shallow breathing as you tried to force yourself to sleep. But sleep didn’t come, only the tears did. They trickled down your cheeks until you choked on them, feeling the hollow emptiness in the very depths of your being.

Then, in the dead of the night, your phone rang. If you had been asleep, you wouldn’t have heard it at all, beckoning to you from where you had left it on the living room floor. Yet, you didn’t move. You didn’t even open your eyes. You didn’t need to look at the screen to know it was him. Vince. His name pulsed in your mind as if it had its own heartbeat. A pulse that flooded an open wound and did nothing but bleed.

Suddenly, the ringing stopped, leaving a silence that settled like dust. A silence so pure you didn’t even breathe. The desperation for air burned in your chest, and only did you give yourself the relief when you heard the phone ring again. Again and again, like torture. You wanted to scream the very sound, leaving your chest so tight you thought you might have a heart attack - yet you lay there, unmoving.

You had been waiting all night for him to call, but now you only wanted silence. And when it came, when it stayed, exhaustion claimed you, lulling you into sleep and leaving the ache to linger as nothing but a thought as the peace of darkness consumed you.

Healing would come with time, was what you kept telling yourself every time you forced yourself to do anything. You had struggled to do even the littlest things at first. Brush your teeth. Make yourself a meal and eat it. Shower. Each small task had been one you struggled through with heavy exhaustion - and ask you branched back out into the world, a fake smile. But as each day passed, living became just a little easier. Your smile, a little more genuine, even if you still found yourself struggling to feel anything but sorrow below the surface.

The ache that would creep into the depth of your chest, or the nagging thoughts that snuck into the back of your mind, were forgotten when you were with friends. So you surrounded yourself with them whenever you could manage. Once, twice, sometimes three times a week, you found yourself in a crowded bar with your friends. Their voices and laughter swirled around you as you indulged in conversation and a bottle of wine. It was meant to be what it always was; a night to unwind. Somewhere you could go and leave everything else behind for a few hours. But when your phone buzzed on the table, and you couldn’t ignore its insistent, repetitive droning that called to you through the chaos of the bustling bar around you, you looked down and there it was. Vince’s name was on the screen.

It had been a month since the night he left you waiting, hoping for him to reach out with a birthday wish. A month of silence had followed since the message you had sent, ending whatever it was the two of you had shared.

Part of you wanted to ignore him, to let the phone ring and ring until he understood what it felt like to wait on someone who never showed. To be ignored by someone who never seemed to care. But you couldn’t deny that a part of you wanted closure.

Excusing yourself from the table, ignoring the looks your friends shot at you, you moved towards the bar’s restrooms. Leaning against the wall just outside, you crossed a single arm tightly across your chest and brought the other up to your ear as you accepted the call from Vince. You stood there, listening to the silence that hung on the line for a moment, stealing seconds from the conversation you were already wishing you hadn’t agreed to.

“Hello?” you whispered in fear that your voice would break if you had tried to be firm with him.

There was a pause. Then Vince spoke, “you picked up.”

You could almost hear the surprise in his voice. He sounded as though he hadn’t expected you to answer at all. And really, you shouldn’t have.

“What do you want, Vince?” You asked, your voice wavering as you shut your eyes tight. Just hearing his voice reignited all the feelings you had tried to cast aside. He made your heart race with all the same excitement as he had before, a high you would forever chase just for even a sliver of the feelings he had once given you. And maybe if it were another time, or another place, you would have let yourself fall back into him. To let his lies and betrayals fool you again. But you couldn’t, not while the wounds were still fresh.

“I miss you,” he said. His words were soft, almost pleading. And you almost scoffed as you gripped your ribcage just a little tighter. “I know I messed up,” he continued, “but I swear, I’m gonna change. Trust me.”

You let out a slow breath, your eyes cast out over the bar, staring back at the booth where all of your friends sat waiting, wondering where you had run off to. You focused on them, in a desperate attempt to ignore how the weight of his words were heavy on old wounds that were almost scars. Cutting them back open like a knife…but he would just leave you bleeding. Again. But you could still feel the weight of his words; Trust me. They echoed through you, but they felt hollow, disingenuous. You wanted to believe them, but you know you couldn’t. Not when they were leaving his lips.

Silence stretched between you, the kind that begged for a response, and you bit the inside or your cheek, trying to gather the courage to really end things. Your lips parted, a heavy breath near bringing you to a tremble before Vince’s words stole the air right from you.

“I still love you,” he spoke quickly.

The words cut through you, sharp and clear and desperate. He had never said those words before. The two of you had never put a label on what you had shared, and yet, the way he threw still in front of them stung. He said it as if you’d had something real, something that was worth keeping. And maybe, once upon a time, when the autumn leaves still hung in beautiful colors of red and gold before they fell into place like puzzle pieces on the ground, you might have called it love too. But now, as you stood there, alone, hiding away from your friends at the bar because you knew talking to him after all he would have put you through would upset them. You felt the truth settle over you.

Vince didn’t love you, he never did. Not really. Not in the way you had needed because during the short time you were together, he had always left you feeling like there should be more.

You gripped your phone tightly, letting the realization sink in. Every broken promise, every unanswered call, it brought you to this moment. And as each time Vince had let you down hung heavily over you, you found your voice, “we are never getting back together. Ever.”

The words felt final, grounding, like an anchor you could hold on to. You finally felt like you weren’t stuck in the same cycle of waiting for his text or call, the high of just getting to hear from him, followed by the lows of waiting for the next call. There would be no more uncertainty of never knowing where the two of you stood. What the two of you were. Now, you could walk away from Vince without looking back and wondering what if? Because the reality of it all was that Vince would never change.

There was a long pause, and on the other end of the call you could only hear his breath as he tried to find the right words for him to say in the space you had left for him. He was trying to think of the right words to reel you back in, to prove to you that things would be different. Until the next time he would miss your call, or break the promise that would leave you crying on the living room floor. But you listening to his empty promises, not this time.

“Goodbye, Vince.”

You hung up before he could say anything more.

You slipped your phone back into your pocket and let out a breath that could only be defined by relief. And as you walked back to your friends, something felt different. The weight you had been carrying had finally been lifted and, for the first time in a long time, you felt free of the burdens that came with loving Vince.

Your favorite downtown coffee show bustled with the sounds of clinking mugs and soft conversations, but you were lost in your own world, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. You sipped your latte, watching the steam rise in lazy spirals, casting a haze between your stare and the phone screen. The feed was the same as it always was, cat videos, the latest fashion trends and posts from your family and friends. Each one left you feeling warm as you were curled up in the seat, away from the harsh, cold Ontario winter that waited just outside for you on the coffee shop doorstep. But the warmth left you, if only for a moment, when a familiar name popped up on your feed. Vince.

You hadn’t made him much more than a passing thought since the night you ended things with him for good. And while the memory of him lingered, and was consuming on nights you lay alone with nothing more than your anxieties as you craved him, you had tried to rid your life of every bit of him. Yet, you’d forgotten to unfollow him on Instagram.

You took a long sip, the sweet latte not enough to rid your mouth of the bitterness on your tongue. It had been three months since that night you said your last goodbye. You should have just kept scrolling past and onto the next funny cat video that would fill you with laughter instead of dread—but against your better judgment, you let your curiosities win and you clicked to view his profile.

Vince had never posted all that often. You had noticed that since the moment you creeped his feed the night you first met him. His pictures were few and far in between. But there it was, something new - pictures from his vacation during the All-Star break. You chewed your lower lip as you scrolled through the carousel of pictures and your stomach clenched. There, in one photo, was Vince, smiling, with his arm slung around another woman. You couldn’t see her face as she looked away from the camera, but you could tell by the exposed skin of her body in nothing but an itty-bitty bikini that she was probably younger, vibrant and beautiful. The sight of them together hit you like a punch in the gut.

It shouldn’t have, but it did. Because it was you who ended things. Yet, you sat alone in the coffee shop still struggling with the memories of him while he was so quick to move on with someone new. It hurt, but it solidified what you knew all along. He didn’t love you, he never had.

Your chest tightened as you swiped through more pictures, your heart sinking deeper and deeper with each one. He never took pictures with you, not any he had shared on social media where anyone of his friends and fans could see. He had never made your relationship public beyond that one night in September when you had met his family. You had been his best kept secret that he hid away from the world, while your love for him had been at oath.

Seeing him with someone else left you feeling hollow. Sitting up straight in your seat, you told yourself that you let him go a long time ago. That the magic the two of you had found on those late summer nights faded and died with fall. That magic had been replaced with doubt and hurt. Hurt that you told yourself had healed, but it felt like a lie as you stared at the pictures of Vince happy with someone else.

“You’re okay,” you whispered to yourself in a stuttering breath. But you weren’t fine. Not at all.

Tears blurred your vision, and before you could stop it, a tear burned its way down your cheek. You wiped it away quickly, but it was too late to stop the ache from rising in your throat. The beginning of a sob rested at the back of your throat as you grabbed your bag and coat, and abandoned your half-empty cup of latte on the table. You disappeared into the bathroom, arching over the sink only to see the streaks of mascara down each of your cheeks.

In the reflection of the mirror, you dabbed at your tear-streaked face with a cheap tissue. It stuck to your skin, forcing you to pick little white tufts of cotton from your cheek as the door swung open. You jumped slightly, startled as you tried to turn away from the door so whoever it was wouldn’t see the distress in your eyes—but as your eyes flicked up to the mirror, the sight of someone familiar met you. Your friend, your best friend, the one who had introduced you to Vince. The two of you had drifted apart when you were spending so much time with him, and later, when the weight of losing him had made you withdraw from everyone. You had tried to reconnect with so many of your other friends since then, but you couldn’t with her. Not when she was still so closely connected with Vince.

Her face lit up when she saw you, and before you could fully find your composure, she was wrapping you in a warm hug. “It’s been too long,” she said into your hair as you did your best to choke back every ounce of feeling that wanted to consume you. Slowly, she took a step back to look at you. “I don’t think we’ve seen each other since the wedding! You were so smitten with Vince that I didn’t even get to say goodbye before we left for the honeymoon. What happened between you two, anyway?”

Her words stung like a fresh cut through the wounds you’d tried so hard to heal. You stood there a moment, feeling paralyzed, the tears welling up in your eyes again, but you forced a smile. It was the same practiced smile you had been wearing for months.

“It just didn’t pan out,” you lied. You would spare her all the sad details. Quickly, you glanced down at your phone as if you were checking the time. “I’m sorry. I have somewhere I need to be.”

Her smile faltered, but she nodded, sensing the awkwardness in the air. “Of course. Let’s catch up soon, though, okay?”

You nodded quickly before slipping past her, leaving the bathroom and uncomfortable conversation behind. You didn’t return to your table. Instead, you went straight out the front door of the coffee shop and were greeted by the cold winter air. You let out a long exhale as the itchiness in the air hit you. Your breath left you in a soft cloud, and snow fluttered gently as it fell in glittering flakes. There was a peace in the cold that left you pulling your coat tighter around you, but it didn’t ease the ache in your hearts as you walked along the narrow snowy city sidewalks alone. And you truly were surrounded by no one. The streets were empty, as strangers sought refuge from a growing storm in the homes, storefronts or restaurants nearby. It truly mirrored just as lonely as you felt inside.

You kept your head down, and your hand clutched around your bare neck as you walked home. Your steps slipped and stuttered right up to the doorstep of your apartment. It was your only moment of stability as your caretaker had cleared the cement and spread sand out over the street. The icy winds gave you one last embrace as you dug your keys from your purse and let yourself inside. You stomped your feet free of snow in the entryway before walking up multiple flights of stairs. When you reached your floor, you looked up and down the narrow apartment hallway, and to your door at the end. There, a large box rested on the floor. You weren’t expecting a package. You approached it slowly and dropped to your knees in front of it. It wasn’t outside the wrong suite; it was addressed to you. Then you looked at the return address. Seattle.

You were slow to pick it up, and even considered leaving it in the hallway, but ultimately your curiosity won. You carried it inside, your cat greeting you as you entered by rubbing against your legs, and you placed it down on the kitchen table. Then you reached down and petted your cat casually, but your eyes never once left the package.

You took off your coat, hanging it on a rack by the door, and you kicked off your boots and left them on a heap on your door mat before you returned to the table. You stepped in a cold puddle you had created; the water seeping into your socks as you pulled at the packing tape. It tore open with a satisfying sound, but it wasn't enough to ease the racing of your heart as the box opened and you faced everything Vince had felt the need to return to you. Carefully you removed each item—Things you had left behind in Vince’s apartment, thinking that one day you’d be back to retrieve them. A tube of red lipstick, one that you quickly learned was his favorite. A pair of socks that you couldn’t find in the rush to pack your bags before heading to the airport for your flight home. CDs that had found a home in his glove compartment during your late summer drives. Each item brought back a memory, pulling you deeper and deeper into the memories of your time together.

But something was missing. The scarf you had forgotten at his family’s house that first night you were left feeling that what the two of you shared was love. It wasn’t there.

Everything else was, though. Every little thing that tied you to him, neatly packed away and shipped back to you, like trash to be discarded. What forced you to remember the early days of your love—the days that were filled with laughter, and the nights where he made you his own—they were supposed to be the beginning of something real. They were memories that you once held so fondly in your heart, but they only brought you heartache now. And Vince? Him sending them back to you made you feel like he had never really felt anything at all.

You stood there, over the box, staring at it. It’s emptiness and how the timeline of your love was spread in the mess over the tabletop—you had it all, all but the one item that symbolized the beginning of it all. And suddenly, it was too much. Your hands trembled as you stepped back from the table.

You stumbled down the hall and fell into your bed. Curling up, you hugged your knees to your chest, a crumpled piece of paper laying there as your tears flowed freely. You sobbed into your pillow, trying so desperately to let the memories of Vince go. They hurt too much to keep, but a part of you knew they were too precious to let go. You remembered it all, every little detail, and it consumed you, leaving you shattered. You had given him so much, and in the end, you were left with nothing but the memories of a love that would never last.

It was all too much. It was all too real. And you couldn’t help but wonder: The love you shared, did it maim him too?

Vince pulled open his dresser drawer with one hand while he tugged at his loose shirt collar with the other. He rifled through it carelessly, disturbing every neatly folded tie, looking for just the right one to match his suit on game day. His fingers moved quickly, digging deeper, searching for a color he had only worn once or twice—there, deep beneath the silk, the cashmere and the cotton, his hand brushed against something soft. Something he hadn’t touched in months.

At the bottom of the drawer, hidden away from anyone who decided they could snoop through his drawers, was the scarf you had left behind at his brother’s house all those months ago. Vince stopped to stare at it first, the bright red scarf so vibrant against the blacks, blues and greens of his eyes. Then he reached out, letting his fingers curl around the familiar fabric as he drew it from the darkness of the drawer out into the light of his bedroom. He stroked it slowly, only looking away from it when there was a clamour in the next room.

Vince had almost forgotten he had a guest.

His new fling was getting ready for the game in the bathroom. She was probably making a mess of something, and he could hear her humming softly as she applied her makeup and did her hair. She wouldn’t be sitting with the other wives and girlfriends—just like you, she would sit alone. And she would be but a memory in a week, maybe two weeks, if he was feeling generous. Even with that in mind, he didn’t need her walking in on him now, as he thought of you.

Vince watched the half-open door of his bedroom as he gripped the scarf in his fist. He could hear her shuffling around, and the sound of her heels clicking against the floor. As she stood there, staring at the scarf, he remembered that night he met you at dinner. How you had worn such a shy smile, but spoke with such confidence. He remembered how your smile would grow as you tried not to laugh at his jokes, and how you would fix the scarf around your neck just right on the days there were still summer, but so close to fall. It had still smelt of you the day his sister-in-law had returned it to him during the break for the holidays.

He lifted it up to his face slowly, inhaling deeply. The scent of you had only begun to fade, the traces of you still lingering enough to make his chest tightened with a familiar ache.

A heavy sighed rocked his shoulders as his grip loosed on the scarf. He had left the fabric wrinkled, but he smoothed them away with a certain care. He held it in both hands, ready to tuck it back where it hid for so long he had forgotten it was there. But as he lowered his hand, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Something made him stop. The scarf. Your scarf. It paired with his game day suit perfectly. A black jacket and pants with a white button down top. It was the pop of color he needed.

Vince draped it around his shoulders, the wool settling around him like a ghost of your embrace. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he adjusted it just right, the scent of you right under his nose, reminding him of what it smelt like to have his face buried in your soft hair. He smoothed it down carefully before turning away from the mirror and looking out the bedroom door. There, a shadow stretched across the hallway - his fling was lingering, ready to leave and completely unaware of the significance of what he had decided to wear to the game that night.

Putting on a smile, he stepped out of the room, the scarf resting over his heart—a quiet reminder of the love that had been, and the love he had lost.

TAGLIST: @mp0625 , @starshine-hockey-girl , @wingedwheelprxncess , @kurlyteuvo , @couldawouldashoulda50

#vince dunn #vince dunn fanfic #seattle kraken #nhl fanfic #nhl rpf #nhl fanfiction #hockey rpf #hockey romance #the eras tour fic challenge #dividers by: @firefly-graphics

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tw1l1te · 10 months ago

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Heyy you fabulous writter! You've had me hooked ever since I first found a post of yours and I don't know if you're taking writing requests but if you are...I'd like to humbly request you to write this idea?🙏

Essentially I think it'd be really cute having a small one-shot of the LU boys in twilights hyrule and them meeting his S/O. His S/O can either be a simple farmer who grew up in the same area or the idea of someone he met on his journey who also had animal turning 'abilities'/features comes to mind so they understand each other more than most. IDK if it's a silly idea or not I just thinks the boys reactions (especially time teasing twilight and such) would be Hella cute! Anyways thanks and keep the good work up! 🫡

- Anon🧋

Yesyesyesyes living out my cottage core dream with mr. cowboy teehee

Twilight was getting giddier by the second as he approached Ordon, and the boys could tell. He was clenching and unclenching his fists, trying the keep the nervousness at bay, but how could he do that when he was about to see you. His beloved.

"I don't think I have ever seen you this jittery before, Pup. What's wrong?"

Twilight was about to answer him when they hear a loud gasp.

Twilight turns to see you on a tree above them, clad in what seems to be.... his old tunic? You jump down, hopping down branch by branch before landing inches away from Twilight.

"Oh by three- you're home! I missed you so much-"

He shuts you up, by pulling you in for a kiss, months of love and desperation melting onto you.

You had to pull away to avoid creating awkwardness for the others, "Alright, easyyy cowboy. Now why don't you tell me about your lil' friends?"

Time raises an eyebrow at him, clearly interested in your character.

"Oh! I completely forgot t' introduce myself! I'm Y/n, mister hero's partner."

Time nods, holding out a hand to shake.

"I'm Time, a... friend of Link's. We all met on his recent adventure."

You nod, squinting a bit at him, then eyeing the rest of them. You walk around them slightly, eyeing their garb and equipment a bit before nodding back at your boyfriend.

"They're Links too, aren't they?"

Legend jumps slightly at that, "How did you-"

You smile at him, "I gotta good nose."

Twilight shakes his head, chuckling "Alright, lets go back to the village before you start figuring everyone out."

You jog up to him, animatedly waving your hands, rambling about Colin and how good with swordsmanship he's become. Before you could continue rambling, Wind asks, "How'd you two meet?"

You and Twilight pause, looking at each other before responding.

"Oh, y'know, I met him on his quest during the Twilight Era. Stinky do-wait, they know, right?"

"They're too nosy for their own good."

"Right, so. I met him while I was in my alternate form. Fell on top of me from a brittle tree-"

"-Wait, you have a wolf form too?!" Wind exclaims, running up to you.

You snort, this kid's funny.

"Nah, that's hero's spirit and all. It's better if I show ya."

You focus for a moment before you feel the shift, still uncomfortable but so much less painful than the first time it happened, oh so many years ago.

Opening your eyes, you can feel your senses sharpen, everything intensifying tenfold.

"A fucking fox???!?!! Twilight, your wife is so cool."

"Not my wife yet, but thank you."

You walk up to Wind, cooing at him. He hesitantly pets your fur on your head, earning him a soft purr from you.

You walk up to the rest of them, just looking at them. You give a few extra sniffs to the pink-haired one, him smelling like hare.

Shifting back, you walk back to Twilight, your fur coat retreating back into your skin. You give him a peck on the cheek, continuing your way back to the village.

"Y'all coming or what?"

Twilight breaks out of his lovestruck trance, following you. Time walks up to Twilight, muttering to him,

"I can tell you've got a thing for foxy personalities."

"Oh, shut up."

#twilite answers

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cinamun · 7 months ago

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I know you spend a lot of time making TFA for all of us, so I know you have a busy schedule, but do you actually take time to do gameplay? I know you let them wander sometimes (we won't talk about that time Hope was electrocuted lmao!), but I just wonder if you play the game sometimes. I myself have a hard time trying to actually play the game. TS3 was and still is my favorite, but TS4 has the look of the sims looking delicious but I can't keep my attention since there so many things missing. Just wondering if the story of TFA keeps you going or gameplay and the story.

I was just saying that I want to play the game more. There have been numerous really big arcs lately in TFA which is time consuming. I definitely just play the characters (my sweet baby OCs) in between setting up shots and stuff like that. If its the wrong time of day for the scene, for example, I'll play the household until the right time. Send Jay to work, work on milestones with the twins, etc. It all depends on the household. I definitely need a break to just play in general. I tried that a few months back but I got some weird comments and just kinda went back into story mode.

I'll be honest, though, I very much enjoy sims 4. For me, its fun and I don't share the idea that too much is missing (not saying there isn't). When cottage living came out I played out a couple generations on a farm. It was relaxing and fun and I want to do something like that again. I should also add that I only played sims 3 initially when it was first released, lost interest in the sims and missed the entire sims 3 era. So what some might find missing, its all new to me.

TFA keeps me going but I'd be lying if I didn't say it wasn't emotionally taxing. I just love the characters so any chance I get to just unpause and let them fulfil their wants, goof off and occassionally get hit by lightning, I very much have a blast.

#thanks for the ask friend #I just love this game #I'm weird like that #its a hobby and I really value my hobbies #because life is a bitch #asks

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waterlilyspad · 3 months ago

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The Horseman's bride. chapter 1 (part 1) Calm before the storm.

I figured it out :) horary! Happy Dia De Los Muertos btw you guys!

No warnings only wholesome stuff this time.

“Stop it!” You laugh as you push away fromJason, your best friend, “No no! I need to get the perfect shot so stay still!” He laughs as he points the camera to your nose, you pout as he hits record. “You’re a piece of work alright, maybe I should be filming you.” You tease as he zooms out, you kick your sneakers as you walk down the hallway, your heels kicking into the plastic tile of the highschool floor as Jason films from behind. “Well I have to keep going, don’t move too much or else it’s gonna hurt more.” He says in a playful tone as you pause, you turn around and your sneakers squeak on the floor as you face him. “What did you say?” You ask with dread watching him as he holds the camera in front of his face. “You nearly twisted your ankle all the way round, poor thing.” He says as you march up to him something isn’t right. Approaching him you yank the camera from his face, a now headless Jason stares you on. “Now hold still.” He says with two voices overlapping, you stumble back in your dream, the tiles giving out from beneath you as you fall screaming into a dark pit, you're rudely awoken by fear.

“AHHH!” You scream looking up only to see a man looming over you, flying out of the sheets, your arm swings to punch only to fly at nothing. The person next to you backs up with their hands up in caution. “Ahh…Oh my god, oh my god it didn’t land, It didn’t land!” You say before exclaiming, your head swings to your right as you see the headless rider from earlier now standing next to your bed his hands are up and splayed open as he speaks “Breathe, I’m not going to hurt you.” He assures as you start to feel unwell just looking at his cauterized neck peg. There really is nothing there. Not to mention that jack o lantern from earlier is now missing. He really is something, just the full body of a man without a head.

Your eyes scan him top to bottom, he’s wearing a worn tunic, the long sleeves rolled up and held in place by two pins, his arms littered with scratch marks and scars, he has high waisted brown pants held up by two gold buttons and a leather belt not of this era. Slow your eyes travel from his shoulder to across the room, your environment is warm, the morning light glowing off the old rustic shuttered windows tinted with fog and worn from the centuries, there’s a blend of wood and brick, and everything from the wooden furniture to the appliances like the stove and fireplace all seem small and quaint, it’s a kind of peace that the world has long since lost, and a treasure trove of the old, this is a very old cottage. The place manages to retain heat pretty well and thank goodness it’s usually cold this time of year. Your eyes track around the small house before landing on your sheets, scanning down and noticing the bandages lying on

the bed next to your bandaged foot, it’s been wrapped pretty well however it’s radiating with pain and it dawns on you as you lift the covers, you’ve twisted it pretty badly and the rider was in the midsts of setting your almost sideways facing foot. “Ohhh goodddd ohhh..” You groan looking away, you've always been squeamish when it comes to bodily harm so you're trying your best not to freak out, not to mention the pinnacle of body horror is standing right next to you. Slowly your eyes peep open as you look away from your foot. “W-were you helping me? With my ankle?.” You asked as the rider stayed where he was. “Yes I was, and I swear mam, I’m almost done, this won’t take much longer if you let me work on you.” He replies as you take a moment, looking over his hands, they look calloused and worn, he probably knows what he’s doing. “Okay...but I better not see you doing any funny business, or else.” You warn, even though you’re lying straight through your teeth, you know nothing about self defense, but you probably know how to kick a man in the crotch so maybe there’s some truth to your threat. “You have my word.” He says before walking to the foot of the cot and kneeling down. You refuse to look as he lifts your achilles heel gently, you then begin to hear the sound of wood clacking. “What are you?!” You say looking over as he holds some wooden sticks. “Brace for your ankle, now settle down dear and breathe.” He says as you cover your eyes, your pulse quickens as pressure around your leg grows, he’s tightly wrapping the brace, you breathe in and out with your mouth and nose, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, a headless body is just wrapping my very twisted ankle it’s fine it’s it’s fine! “It’s done.” He says standing next to you as you peek from between your fingers, the brace is secured and it isn’t as tight as your mind was telling you, and you give your leg a couple of small movements, not one inch of pain comes to you. Looking up at him you give a weary smile. “Thanks..” You say nervously as he replies “Your welcome.”

You tap your fingers on the pillow in your lap as the rider cooks you a meal on the stove, as you watch a million questions fly through your head. Where are we? What year is it again? What was all of that from last night? Am I alive or not? You're itching to get some answers, it’s driving you nuts. “So.” You say out loud purposely looking off in the distance to avoid eye contact? Maybe his eyes are invisible. “What’s uh your name?” The rider’s body slightly turns as he lets out a chuckle. “Easy my name is…” He says before going silent, you sit there as he fails to complete the answer. “Is?” You ask as he remains quiet. “Hell…What is my name?” He says lowly as your jaw drops. “How old are you?! All of this I mean; you are from the colonial days or something right?” You ask in surprise “Yes I am, the year was 1775 when I died and-” He explained as you interjected “All that time what that like 200 years is! And you don’t remember your name?!” You exclaim as the rider turns his entire body. “I…Hell I guess not.” He answers as the room goes silent, your face is painted with bemusement, the guy can kill anything and command the demons of the forest, but not remember his own name, okay. “Okay next question, you said you died in 1774 but if the revolution was in 1776 doesn’t that make you the…The guy from the myth?” You ask as he asks “Pardon?” He asks back, “yeah, the headless horseman, you’ve got his ax and everything? You chop people’s heads off if they don’t behave on Halloween or something and disappear in the morning.” You explain as he stands silently. “Would you like me to burn your oatmeal?” He replies, turning back to the stove as you exclaim. “No! Wait, is that what you're making?! Please don’t I love oatmeal!” You beg as he laughs pouring the oatmeal into a bowl on the table. He lifts the wooden tray and brings the dish to you. “Now sit up and try not to spill any of it.” He says lowering the breakfast onto the pillow on your lap, it looks

amazing, apple slices with oatmeal. “Don’t suppose you have any sugar?” You ask as he walks back to the kitchen returning with a jar. “No sugar but I do have honey.” He says as you beam, “I love honey!” You say with enthusiasm opening the lid and spooning the glowing honey into your bowl of warm hot cereal. “Yeah I loved it too.” He says with a sigh as you pause mid bite. “Whah.” You mouth as he laughs, “Right, why would I make food if I can’t eat any of it? Well I make food for my neighbors, it’s how I keep a good rapport with the community ‘round here.” He explains as you eat another spoonful and gulp to ask another question. “That’s sweet, who are your neighbors? Wait no, hold on, am I dead or alive? Where are we? When are we?” You ask as he pulls up a small rickety chair. “Well you see I didn’t wanna tell you until you were finished but yes you're alive but you're also dead.” He explains as you look on with confusion. “Uhm okay? Did that guy get me last night or?” The rider answers almost immediately. “Audrey May you are between life and death, you are neither alive or dead, what you are now is your very soul, last night around sundown I have reason to believe your body was taken possession by a vengeful spirit, I don’t know who they are but I have a few good guesses, that “man” that chased you last night was a wraith who appeared to you as your greatest fear. What matters is that I help you back to health, we get “Married in 3 days on halloween when the barrier between earth and the inbetween open, and I help you back to your body and bring back whatever spirit has hold of you now. You may ask your questions at this time.” He says as you sit completely still trying to process all of that information as oatmeal falls off your spoon and back into the bowl. “Ah…Hold on…So someone else is in my body.” You ask “Yes.” He replies, “Currently they are inhabiting your body, what they could be planning or doing is a complete mystery but rest assured Dullahans like me have one goal.” He explains as you learn. “Yeah and that is?” You ask as he explains “To send wayward spirits to their eternal rest.” He says in a low tone as you gulp, he’s not going to send YOU to rest is he? Well he just said something about getting married so…Now hold on. “Oh my god, wait! What the fuck was this all about?!” You yell flying your hand up to his face, a ring made of crystal gleams on your finger as he sighs. “Yes, if I hadn’t taken claim of you those other creatures would have, that’s why it’s not safe for you anywhere until the day of halloween when we marry, we’ll “Elope” after the ceremony and only then will I join you outside where we’ll find your culprit.” He explains as you give hima look. “Fine I’ll play your game, but don’t think for a second I’m just gonna magically be your cute and quirky fiance, I barely know you or anything that’s going on.” You say as he crosses his large arms. “we are friends here to help-…Well I would say eachother but mostly me. So again no funny business, do we have a deal?” You say as you hold out your right hand. “Yes, we have a deal.” He laughs, extending his right hand to shake yours. As the two of you shake your eyes, catch something fluttering through the wooden beams on the ceiling. “Oh god what’s that?!” You ask about sinking into the bed.

#headless horseman #headless horseman x reader #monster x you #monster x reader #monster x human #classic movie monsters #classic monsters #dullahan x reader #dullahan #monster lover #NEVER MIND i figured it out :)

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cdroloisms · 1 year ago

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hi your art is so gorgeous I’m obsessed with how you shade and texture hair especially. Also can you tell us more about spaghetti strap collar dream (j!dream??) starting with Why is he dressed so fruity

OMG THANK U :D hair drives me a little nuts to draw i wont even lie

j!Dream ... my j!Dreamogie...

j!Dream starts with the JMAH AU, which involves our favorite mans sam awesamdude getting to do a good old do-over of the prison. Which he takes gladly, of course, with a good heaping measure of god has sent me back to do what's right and this is the warden's duty to bear and other related such sam-isms

of course, things go awry with him, but not before a year of (title drop!) just him and dream in the prison and all of the horrid intimacy and violence that came with it. sam wallows in his failure (and his successes...he did things better this time, right? it wasn't his fault, right? he did everything he could...maybe now he can enjoy true freedom...) while dream relearns how to be free (in the belly of the prison that had swallows him whole and spit him out different. the dispensers are a row of teeth above his head.) it hardly matters at the end, though, because XD has other games to play--this brings us to Four Square, which is the prison-themed crossover meetup with canon of their dreams (heh, Dreams) !! All your best hits are here: the clock! Blood! Drama! More blood! Sam giving the Dreams over for Quackity to torture! Sam threatening Quackity for Dream's sake! Technoblade! Camraderie! Betrayals! Gossip sessions! Raw potatoes! Dream grilling Sam about his reasons! Even board games! Four Square really has it all.

(a lot more. under the cut.)

in four square, a certain point, both prisontrios (jmah edition and canon) get to play monopoly together. in the regular version, the dreams manage to win monopoly, (j!dream does, specifically) and quite a bit happens in the aftermath of this--after getting trolled by XD a bit an having to fight for their lives a lot more, they do (with. some complications) manage to win themselves the upper hand eventually. it kinda brings four square to the more "daedalus" era, with the LN confrontation next (we never finished writing that, though: it probably would've ended quite a bit messier than the LN confrontation, with nowhere to run, but i feel like it probably would've ended with the quackitys hogtied in some corner of the prison while the dreams waited for them to get tp-ed out.)

in the bad ending, though, j!sam wins. and there's a lot about four square that does demand...a level of introspection, for better or for worse, and sam has been on quite the roller coaster of emotions (here, you have him: but only for a day.) dream is in the prison, but sam is really no more its warden than anyone else here--four square is first and foremost a game, and that in and of itself is a mockery. more than anything, he's finding that he wants dream and dream alone; he misses the days of just the two of them in this prison, just the two of them and dream is safe and perfectly under his control. when he wins monopoly and XD gives him a wish...well.

enter mayfair. four square had taken a lot out of them both, dream especially--he was told for a year that sam was protecting him from Worse, that sam wasn't really torture wasn't really that bad, and 24 hours with two Quackities each with a Lays family size bag of chips on their shoulder sure has him pretty damn convinced. sam and him and a new prison only this one has brick walls instead of obsidian and wood flooring instead of blackstone...a little cottage with an impenetrable barrier surrounding them. he's more trapped than he's ever been but look, here's a house and here's sam and here's the sun. here's table set with a vase of roses and a candlelit dinner for two.

in a lot of ways, what happens after is the natural progression of jmah, and then four square, and all their combined horrors. dream isn't even sure that they're on their server (they weren't for four square, after all.) he's tired. he's genuinely, wholly, so fucking tired of it all and sam isn't that bad, when it comes down to it, not as bad as he's been having nightmares about for the last few months--not as bad as he expected, should sam ever recapture him. this is his world now, this clearing and this house and this sam. it would be foolish of him to not try and make the most of it.

for a year and a half, they had been dancing around each other. for the entirety of four square, they had been grilled on the nature of their relationship with no satisfactory answers. there is so much about this house that is just so damn unambiguous, and honestly? honestly, dream just wants to know.

(one week, one week and a half into their new living arrangment, dream sinks to his knees in front of sam in their living room.)

(you want this, a question or a statement? you want this, and it goes both ways.)

the walk-in closet attached to their master bedroom had a little selection of clothing when they were tp-ed in. the whole damn place was kind of a practical joke, a picture-perfect romantic getaway. there's like, sex toys in the drawers. stuff like that. the closet itself is also a mess of different things--some copies of sam's clothes from home, some tunics and hoodies for dream...but also suits, and ties, and dress pants, and dresses. croptops and lingerie. a prisoner's jumpsuit tucked in some corner.

their sexual relationship is ummm UMMMM. it's a little dubious. for flavor. in a weird way, both sam and dream are on the same page of wanting to move past the prison? sam in particular is in an awkward position because...dream escaped! he literally Left, he Got Away, and now that sam has him again he's obligated, as his warden, to Do Something About That. at the same time though, he's giddy from the fact that he does have dream again. that he has real, tangible proof that dream is better, that he does need him and knows that he needs him, that he. Wants Him. the house didn't come with a cell--there is no place that is sam's, and then a separate place that is dream's. they are meant to exist together...and sam is finding that he. quite likes the idea of that.

they're also pent up as hell after uh going well over a year without any sexual activity for them both, and they've spent so much damn time thinking about it and dreaming about it and fearing it and wanting it on both sides without being able to admit any of it. so once the line is crossed, things start snowballing pretty damn fast. it's not something either of them can take back, so they. don't. and there's really nothing that exists to put a real boundary on any of it, any brakes to make things slow down or stop, anything that either of them can cling to as an excuse to force them to pull back. sam is pushing limits (how far will dream go to obey him--) and dream is pushing limits (how much can he use this to change what they are--) and neither of them are in a position where they can afford to back down. So They Don't.

birdhouse, or the timeline where we just get Really Silly With It, is where other variables are added in the form of different Dream AUs that kind of interrupt jmah duo's mutual decision to swan dive to hell. the outfits kinda start from mayfair and progressively get more extreme if dream + sam go unchecked--they're a natural consequence of j!Dream going hey how far can i push this to make sam lose his mind because if he's too busy thinking with his dick then he's probably less likely to get mad at me and other such lines of logic. in the version of birdhouse that begins to involve ff AU, the addition of ff!Sam (eventually) to the sexual dynamic does put another added layer of strain on j!dream in terms of the whole. There's Two Of Them Now. that's also where you kinda see more of him embracing uhh sex as the end-all be-all solution to most of his problems, as a means of getting some power back with regards to Sam and making the best out of his situation and the best (and only) leverage he has and the tool that's both the most pleasurable for him to wield and the most effective in making sam treat him better. Etc.

so he's doing great.

#just me and him AU #four square AU #mayfair AU #birdhouse AU #time traveler sam au #my asks !!#JREAM. MY JREAM #sorry for the literal essay #jream is my guy i talk abt him too muhc HES MY GUY #my eepy #c!awesamdream #dsmpshipping #tw abuse #tw dubcon

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afrourbanbeat · 8 months ago

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(Lake Trip to Mangochi with Aeysha 2019)

Take a trip with me down memory lane, to one of my favourite beach vacations that I ever went on, it was with my friends and we stayed at one of her friend's family cottage by the lake in Mangochi. Just a few picturesque shots from my archive. I really miss my tumblr girl era, I think I'm gonna just get back at it. I used to love blogging about spots I went to and trips I enjoyed. Looking back at these photos just kind of reminded me of that era of my life and how much I loved it. Returning back to who you were after you've been lost is a funny thing. Cheers to finding me again.

But yeah, if you're ever looking for an amazing beach vacation, I highly recommend The Makokola Retreat, Mangochi, Malawi.

P.S.

I love that boat photo. Definitely one of my favorites.

#life #lake #malawi #travel #vacation #beach #pool #boat #africa #african

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shinycollarboneapologist · 2 years ago

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omg illicit affairs anon here and happy to report how I feel on every taylor song!!! my fav album is evermore so I would die for any song on there and will defend it to my death.

matty is literally who taylor wrote all this songs for wdym?? Harry Styles? never heard of him... style is clearly for Mr. Matthew Timothy Healy and I won't here shit otherwise! I love to live in my delusion and pretend peace is ab me and matty bc he's so famous... no I am not mentally well thanks for asking!!!!

mirrorball? I think it's safe to say I'm a mirrorball stan considering I have a tattoo for it on my ribs... FOLKLORE IS POETRY I LOVE IT (I also rated the whole of folklore and mirrorball is no.3)

my tears ricochet? I CAN GO ANYWHERE I WANT, ANYWHERE I WANT JUST NOT HOME!!! proud owner of an og folklore cardigan here I love my tears ricochet!!!! it's number 6 on my overall folklore rating which sounds low but folklore just has too many bangers you know??

tis the damn season? seeing this on the eras tour set list did send me into cardiac arrest, thank you!!! this is one of those sad bangers that gets me HYPE to feel depressed but slightly jam at the same time. I was prepped to have 0 evermore songs but to have THIS?? I cried watching the live stream at 3am (International swiftie grind)

false god? unlike any other taylor song but it BANGS!!! I want her to play it and john from the 1975 to play all the sax bits ty!! lover is my 3rd favourite album and I haven't been able to listen to it since... the news :(((

I also am a debut stan I am happy to say, people give it wayyyy to much hate!! picture to burn?? should've said no?? I'm only me when I'm with you?? our song?? it's a no skip album and I'll take that to my grave.

overall miss taylor swift deserves every award and I want her and the '75 to stand there and preform their entire discography to me and you in our cottage ty, as payment we will name some cats after them!!

love you bestie <33333

EVERMORE AND SPEAK NOW ARE MY TOP TWO (WITH 1989 and FOLKORE TIED FOR A THIRD). evermore has the worlds best song (champagne problems) and the deluxe tracks???? right where you left me? its time to go? like okay ms. swift...

PLEJDGLDF as a h*rry stan and a 75 stan, my delusional brain goes back and forth through periods of daydreaming about 1989 being the harry album and the matthew Timothy healy love letter. ALSO i am right with you with the whole daydreaming thing. maybe mine is champagne problems being about me and matty and me not being ready for a relationship with him bc i love angst and drama. (i am the drama. also the rumor that went around when it first came out that champagne problems was about justin and selena? that broke me..)

MIRRORBALLLLLLLLLLL SENDS MEEEEEEE FOR A LOOP. its the song i lay in bed to and just stare at the ceiling, literally on my disassociation playlist. (i wish i was joking). and omg.. the tattoo.. its literally on my list of ones i want to get. (besties and twinsies)

me adding u to my rob list bc i longed for a folklore cardigan. ALSO. I GET TTTT IT SO MUCH. folklore is a banging album.

the way i literally threw my phone when she started playing it. i was in SHOCK. its literally top tier from the album. i was so ready for her to disrespect evermore completely, so i was very much satisfied that it was on the setlist.

FALSE GOD IS SO SEXY TO ME. the sax ... the soulfulness. i sway when it comes on bc its just so good?!?!? also ur so right for wanting john to play the sax on it. i think i would keel over and die. (Also just wanted to update you that i listened to lover on the way home from work ln and it .... it wounded me but i was BRAVE)

debut is soooooooooo chef's kiss. i am not a country fan at ALL. but i will get down and dirty to her old music idc. our song <3 im an our song STAN. i loved the music video.

me and you inviting only miss swift and the 1975 (plus their touring band) to our little cottage with our cats. it sounds like heaven to me. (matty is only allowed in when he's performing though, we have to humble him somehow)

love you SO MUCH. i hope ur having a wonderful day <3

#illicit affairs anon.#we still need to rename u #m rambles

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j2zara · 5 months ago

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aughhhh j2porter curled up in bed in the affairs cottage watching j2's favorite show (jeopardy!). porter's holding him so close and so gently and running his fingers through j2's hair. tomorrow they have to pack and go back home but tonight it's just them and theyre happy <3

KFKKDKDKDKD forgive me that the conversation on Boringgirl jace has long since passed by the time i got to this b/c i KNOW this is in reference to me saying j2 is boringgirl jace coded. Which is true. J2 would fuck up a good brunch. Born to drink mimosas at 11 am on a saturday, forced to do weird menials tasks for jaceprime

Anyway. Bluejay’s favorite program is jeopardy I love this old man in a body that was born sexy yesterday. God bluejay is so Boringgirl Jace coded it’s so funny and he doesn’t even have the excuse of having spent his twenties getting it all out of his system he’s legit just boring. It’s real tho it’s so like. And Porter thinks j2 is so funny when they watch jeopardy bc he gets all excited when he actually knows the answer to the questions (it’s me I’m the weirdo who gets excited when I actually know the answer to the questions). But Porter thinks is really really cute and sweet. (And like. Yeah it’s a little bit born sexy yesterday coded what about it). fjfjalw they don't even fool around they literally just hang out. Don’t get me thinking about Porter being sweet with j2 and maybe even having that flicker of like. Could this be it just me and you. Because I WILL cry I love them so much. They're so problematic and so domestic, what are you gonna do abt it <3

J2 does not understand Jace’s crush on Collin Jost tho. In fact he’s kinda in agreement with Porter on that one like. Yeah! You absolutely COULD take that guy. I don't get what jace sees in him! He does have sick and twisted Janelle Brain Disease tho which is that all jokes become like 20% funnier when you inexplicably want to fuck the comedians. He could point out five guys in snl NOW who are better looking than collin jost (could he?? i haven't watched snl in forever). J2 will shamelessly parrot Porter's opinion that "SNL hasn't even been good since the [insert era that was nostalgic to Porter's Childhood here]" tho (he knows nothing abt that era and in fact secretly misses Andy Samburg on SNL but you didn’t hear it from me)

#jan.ask #clone enjoyers anonymous

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zephyruswrites536 · 2 years ago

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Alright, so

(Back at it again with me ranting about a movie I watched and how marauders era- or tma this one wasn’t- characters fit in!)

Now, if you don’t know this:

Sorry you have to scroll down to see- but the andromeda fan cast I have come to know as the most popular is Keira Knightley’s character Cecilia in Atonement-

The story !spoilers! Is about Briony Tallis, her sister Cecilia and Robbie Turner and the unfortunate events that happen within a few shorts years. Briony is given a note by Robbie to give to Cecilia that is very lewd and she reads it before giving it to her sister- then later the same day she finds them in the library having s//x… then even later Briony finds her cousin being r//ed by a man says it’s Robbie for some godaweful reason because I suspect she’s jealous- and then he gets imprisoned even though he did nothing wrong, he joins the war(the beginning events all happened sometime in 1939 I believe.) because he could do that or rot in prison- then he tries getting back to his love Cecilia but never does- he dies- Cecilia broke from her family who had forsaken her lover and joined the nursing staff for the military, and died in a bomb shelter that was flooded. Briony, after the war starts doesn’t go to Cambridge but instead joins the nursing staff like her sister, she hopes to own up for her mistakes, but never does… she never gets to say sorry for what she did- it’s all very depressing. But it’s the reason the movie is called atonement- the definition for “atonement” is reparation for a wrong(or injury)- if you don’t know what reparation means, it’s basically just making amends.

Now, knowing that this was the fancast for Andy- I’ve been thinking since we finished the movie(my family and I), that it kinda fits her narrative canonically. Take out the umm- sexual part and it makes sense.

Narcissa(Briony) catches Andromeda(Cecilia) and Ted(Robbie) together and tells her family about it in a state of worry for her sister’s happiness and health. Andromeda runs away from her family, angry at Narcissa for exposing her before she herself could properly introduce her love, and leaves with Ted. In the end they are both killed by Deatheaters and Narcissa has to pay for the death of her sister, watching from the sidelines.

(I forgot to mention) In the movie, Briony goes to visit Cecilia and say her apologies and clear the air because she misses her sister quite a lot, she goes it doesn’t really go easy because- what she did was very wrong- but Robbie turns out to be there, and yells at briony, Briony confesses what she really saw(an important plot point of you watch the movie, I don’t care to say it here) and then she leaves saying she’d tell the truth to everyone she had lied to.

It turns out this was all a lie- One Briony(I forgot to mention she’s a writer, she writes plays and novels) falsified to give her sister and Robbie a better outcome: because in real life, Robbie died waiting for transport back to England, and Cecilia died(as I said) in a flooded bomb shelter. In her fictional world of the book she wrote, they live happily ever after in a cottage by the sea.

I like to think Narcissa was a writer when she was younger, she’d use her own stories to escape the hell hole she lived in. And I like to put that in retrospective to this story- her writing Andy and Ted a nice ending because they had such a horrible one.

#i like to talk #well not really #here’s a rant #andromeda tonks #ted tonks #narcissa black #atonement #the movie #anyways hope you liked it #:))))) help

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hotforharrysheart · 3 years ago

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Sensory Escape

You’re cuddled up on the couch, face in his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne, soap, and everything that is just Harry. You only have a few days before he’s off to conquer the world of music yet again and while part of you is so proud and excited for this new era, the other selfish part of you is already missing him.

“You're gonna be leaving next week...How am I gonna survive without this?”You ask, your bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “Without a kissing session? Without falling asleep with you each night?”

Your hand slides down his stomach to his dick. “Without this dick inside me wherever I want?” You ask, palming him.

“Fuck babe, I've never had to worry about this issue myself and, to be honest, I'm not looking forward to sleeping alone either. Quite accustomed to being buried in you every night.”

You grown. “H…don't go…just stay here with me.” Your eyes go glassy as you look down fiddling with the fringe on your shorts

“Don't look away from me.”

You stand up, facing him.

“You don't understand, I'm really, really anxious about you going when this—You motion between the two of you, “Is so new and different.”

He sighs. It’s always the same conversation and it never gets any easier. “I've left before, you know I come back...”

“I know. I'm just being needy.”

“I hate this.” He says, hands moving to his eyes and massaging them.

“The last thing you need, I'm sure,” you say under your breath.

He looks up at you. “No, baby. I hate having to leave you just as much. Babe, I'm invested in this—“ He motions between you two. “Me and you.”

“I know, H. I'm just worried.”

“And no, you aren't being "the last thing I need" I heard that. Stop biting your nails and talking under your breath. We don't do that - we talk. C'mere...” He pats his lap.

“You're right. I'm sorry.”

“Give me those hands.” He looks over your nails and kisses the cuticles. He holds them up. “These gonna be bloody by the time I get back?"

You shake your head.

“Gonna go get your nails done while I'm gone?”

“Maybe.” You smile.

“I'Il miss the scratches they leave on me.”

“H…” You cover your face, blushing.

"Don't hide from me.” He says, pulling your hands from your face. “I’ll miss matching polish with you.”

You smile and nod and then your face crumples as the tears slide out of your eyes. “I'm sorry, H. I just…this sucks. I don't mean to make you feel bad - I know this is your dream and you know I support you a million percent right? I'm just feeling a bit sorry for the girl that's getting left behind.”

“‘M not leaving her behind. I’m coming back every chance I get and when I can't come back, you'll come to me.”

“You promise?”

A tear falls from his eye. “Swear to God.” He pulls your wrist to his mouth and places a kiss there. “Let's go away again. To our cottage in Cornwall?”

“How could I ever forget Harry?” You shiver and smile. “I think that would be very nice,” you say softly. “What would we do?"

“You just leave that up to me.” He kisses you on the nose. “We need to just get away from all this and be with each other for a bit.” He brushes your hair away from your neck and kisses behind your ear. “Need a chance to be inside you as long as I want, no distractions.”

You sigh. “When do we leave?” You throw you head back as he kisses down your neck passionately. “When do…ahh...when do we leave?”

“Gotta cum first dontcha’ think?” He asks, smirking against your skin.

“Cheeky lil demon.”

“Did ya get...my joke? Gotta cum before we can go?”

"Really Harry your jokes are awful.”

“Heeyyyyy…” Hands wondering up your shorts.

"What’re you doing?”

He smirks. “Oh it's no joke, ya gotta cum, then I'll tell you when we're gonna go.”

***********************************************

You’re in his bedroom trying to pack some things you’d brought over from your place. “Harry, should I take this swimsuit or this one? I like this red two piece...but the black one is from before so…I dunno.”

Wrapping his arms around you he says, “Neither.”

Smiling you say, "Really?"

"I'm not taking trunks.”

You gulp. “You're not?”

“No.”

“Oh, but I like those navy ones with the red stripes!”

“Naked.”

You gulp. “Naked?”

“Naked. All week.”

“All...umm…all week?"

He kisses your ear. “All week. Robes if you get cold.”

“Mmm..”

“What is all this shit, babe? You don't need all this.”

“Where's your bag?"

He holds up a little Gucci duffle and a newer looking smaller duffle.

“That's all you’re taking?” He nods. “What's in that black bag? Maybe there's room for my robe in there.." You reach for it.

"Nope, 's all full,” He says, swinging it away and up high.

You narrow your eyes. “You're up to something Styles.”

He smirks. “Plan on being up all week. I know I will,” he says, winking. He slaps your ass and says, "Now hop to it!"

You yelp. He darts out the door, "Gonna go start the car.”

“I'm right behind,” you say, looking down and fingering the red swimsuit "sans swimsuit…” You mutter to yourself, tossing the suit on the bed. You stop for a couple of bottles of wine and some of your favorite snacks and you can't help but point out the drug store.

“Guess we don't need to stop there this time.”

He smirks and slides his hand up your thigh and says softly, "Nope. We don't now, do we?”

You blush and lean over to snatch a kiss. “God, it's so beautiful here, H,” you tell him as you pull up the drive.

“Know..love this place.” His hand slides to your center. “Love this place too.”

You let out a moan.

“So warm, babe. You excited?"

“Mmmm, yeah, said no to me this morning because you wanted to get on the road. Patience baby.”You huff.

He pulls the car round the drive and turns the key off…you just sit looking at him.

“I love you.”

Putting his hands on your cheeks he brushes his lips over yours. “I love you too.”

"Thank you for doing this.”

"Did it for us, did it for me, did it cause I'm a selfish man and I want as much of you as I can get."

You lean your forehead to his. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

“Let's go inside.”

You nod with glassy eyes. Damn, you're gonna miss him. You’re putting away the groceries. You grab a bottle of wine and hold it up. “You want a glass of red?" With no response, you turn around and he's just standing there looking at you.

"No, I want you to go up to the bedroom, take off your clothes and lay in the center of the bed and wait for me."

“I'm sorry, what?"

“Go upstairs, take off your clothes, lay in the middle of the bed and wait for me.”

“Harry, I need a show-"

He shakes his head no and moves to stand in front of you. “No. You need to do what I asked.”

Swallowing hard you softly say, "Ok.”

He smiles at you, "good girl.”

You almost ask if he needs help with the rest of groceries before you leave but think better of it. As you walk by he slaps your bottom lightly and you flash a saucy smile back. “Don't make me wait long.”

“Baby, you'll wait as long as it takes.”

Your heart starts to pound in your chest and your saucy smile fades and your core clenches. You fold your clothes neatly, pull off the fluffy white duvet, and crawl up in the California King laying flat in your back in the middle of the bed like he told you to. You can't stop thinking about how demanding he was and what he has planned. You can feel your heart beat in your pussy and you know you’re dripping onto the sheets. Your breathing is fast and you have a mind to run your fingers over your nipples. Just as you are about to reach for them you hear, "Don’ even think about it.” Startled, you jerk your hand down and raise your head up.

Shirtless and barefoot, Harry is standing in the doorway with his jeans unbuttoned and that blasted black bag in his hand. Your eyes follow the trail of hair from his belly button to the nest peeking out the top of his undone jeans.

“No underwear..." you mumble.

“And your naked,” he says running his eyes down your body.

Your hand goes to your lips because you can't believe you said that outloud.

He's breathing heavy. “Goddamn, you are so beautiful. Spread your legs, show me my pussy.” He slowly walks to the end of the bed and drops the bag. His eyes never leave your center. “Drippin' all over the bed, baby.”

“I know…can feel it.” Your hips involuntarily roll upwards. “Harry. What's in the bag?"

"D’ya trust me?"

“Completely.”

He smirks showing both of his dimples. “Then stop worrying about the bag.”

You sigh and close your eyes.

“Tonight you are all mine to please.”

You moan out.

“I wanna memorize your face, your body, your sounds…everything about you. I need to make you cum as many times as I can until you are screaming my name and begging me to stop.”

You moan out again.

He walks to the side of the bed trailing his fingers from your toes to your hip. “Need you to understand something.” Your eyes meet his. “Have you ever heard of the traffic light system?"

Shivering, you say, “You mean like green means go, yellow means slow down, and red means stop?"

He smiles and his finger circles your nipple, “Exactly.”

Your chest is heaving.

“Tonight I'm gonna eliminate some of your senses, but I want you to be able to tell me how you're doing when l ask. So when I circle this pretty nipple, what traffic color would you say you are?”

Squirming, you cry out "More!"

“So that's green?"

You nod.

“If it gets to be too much and you wanna slow down or stop, just give me a color. Ok?”

“Ok,” you say breathlessly.

“You remember that tie you bought me on my 25th birthday?”

“The pink and black one?“

He rummages through the bag and he pulls out that very one.

“We weren't even dating then. You still have that?”

“Love this tie.”

“Can't believe you remember that.”

He trails it up your sternum and drags it across your eyes. “May I?" He says, as he holds it close to your face.

You nod.

“Words, love.”

“Yes.”

“What color are you?”

“Green,” you say letting out a breath.

“You ask nicely…”

“You get it.”

“Tha’s right.”

“Lift your head up, love.”

You raise your head and he gently ties the tie over your eyes. You're panting at this point.

“Breathe, love. What color are you?”

“So green.”

He laughs his breathy little laugh.

“I miss seeing your face.”

“I'm here, I've gotcha.”

You grab his hand. “Ok,” you let a breath out. “Ok.”

He leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips and trails his lips down your neck to your collarbone. With his tongue he licks a stripe down to your nipple and suckles the tip between his teeth.

“Ahhh!” You groan out and squeeze his hand tight.

He cups your tit tightly and nibbles lightly with his teeth.

“Ohmygod ohmygod. Ohhh…”

“Your nipples are always sensitive. You respond to me so well.” He reaches over to grasp the other one between his forefinger and thumb, giving a gentle tug and twist you cry out, “More Harry!”

You twine your fingers in his hair.

“Darling, I want you to grab hold of the bars on the headboard.”

“I want to touch you, though.”

“Hands on the headboard.”

You sigh and lift your arms. The movement of your arms causes your tits to pull up. His nostrils flair.“I'm gonna try something. First, let me check..Jesus baby, you’re drenched.” He runs his fingers through your folds. “Is this turning you on?"

“Harry, I've never EVER been so turned on.”

You hear the zip of the black duffle and the swishing of fabric.

“I'm going to tie this hand to the headboard, Ok? What color are you?”

“I'm green, Harry.”

He smiles proudly. “I'm gonna do the other one now. Who knew my old headscarves would come in so handy,” he says, kissing your forehead.

You moan. “I loved you in those. Those curls…. Wanna touch you.”

“What color?"

“Green.”

“Fuck, you're so sweet like this.”

Your knees draw together and you tighten your thighs to get a little relief.

“Do I have to tie your legs too?”

“No, I'll keep them open..."

You hear the thud of his pants hitting the floor. Then the only sound is only the sound of his breathing. It's a deep steady breath. It helps soothe you. “Harry?" Stillness. “Harry?"

“What color are you, love?” He whispers from across the room.

You sigh. “I'm green now, but please don't leave me like this.”

“I won't leave, I just wanna look at you for a minute.”

Your heart rate spikes again.

“‘M so hard for you right now.”

“Want you to fuck me Harry.”

“Can you hold on just another minute for me?"

“Yes. Are you touching yourself?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I'm swollen and hard. I can't squeeze tight enough.”

“Unnnghhh…” You thrust your hips up into nothing.

“Keep your legs open.” You open your legs. “Wider.” He smirks. “You picturing me fucking you baby?”

“I'm so empty…I…I need to touch-"

“No, you can hold on just a little bit longer.”

You whimper.

“Fuck, I can see the wet spot your making on the bed.”

“Harry.." The end of the bed dips and you feel the warm wetness of his pointed tongue circle your sensitive bundle of nerves. You cry out.

“Who's clit is this?"

“Mmmm…Fuck! Yours! Unghhh!” Your hands tighten in your restraints. “Oh. My. God. I'm gonna cum if you do that again!”

“Yeah?” And he does it again.

Your entire body convulses and you draw your knees up to your sides, your hips rolling with the contractions. You feel a fresh drop of cream run down your cunt as the waves crash down.

Laying on his tummy he has a close up view of the entire moment. “Shit baby, I could see your pussy clenching.….most amazing thing I've ever seen.”

“Harry I need more, I'm so empty and I need you inside me, it's not gonna st-stop until you're inside me.”

“Shh shhh, baby.” Hands running down your legs.

“Yellow!” You pull against the ties. “Yellow, Yellow!”

He places his hand on your lower tummy. “I'm here...I'm gonna take care of you.”

You’re sobbing..."I need to see you.”

He scrambles up your body and removes the tie from your eyes. He kisses you all over your face. “You’re ok, love.”

You raise your head to kiss his cheeks, his lips, his neck. “Untie me.”

He sits back on his knees between your legs and quickly releases the scarves and your hands fly to his chest. “Come down here" you say, pulling at his shoulders.

He finally settles his weight down on you, forehead to forehead. “Tha’ was intense, how’re your wrists?” He's searching for them to rub.

You have them deep in his curls before he can even check. “They're fine, they're fine.”

“Are you su-“

“Jesus Harry, Fuck me! Please! Know you're in pain.”

He reaches down and lines himself up at your entrance. “Ready?"

You smirk. “Green.”

He chuckles and thrusts in deep.

You both let out loud filthy groans.

“Oof…here, pull your knees up,” he says, as he slips out of you. He chuckles. “So wet…just slipped right out of you. Wettest you ever been for me baby.” The sound of his cock slapping your pussy as he pounds into you could be the soundtrack to a filthy porno flick.

“Who. Is. Fucking. You?"

“You are, Harry!!"

“Who?"

You groan out, “Harry Styles!”

“Tha’s right, baby, you remember when you start to miss me that I'm always yours. Our bodies, our souls, our spirits belong to each other. You’re never away from me. I am never away from you. Never been like this…it's never been like this. Cum with me...“

“Me either H! I-never felt like this before.”

“Need you to cum.”

“Am I hitting our spot?”

“Yes!"

You’re breathing heavily into each other's face, foreheads pressed together mixing your sweat.

“Fuck…just felt you gush on me.” His breath puffs out of his lips. “I can't stop this, cum, baby girl, cum!”

You let out a high pitched open mouth groan of satisfaction as you both go completely stiff. The pulsing of your pussy and the deep twitch of his cock is almost more than you can handle. You squeeze your eyes shut, stars exploding behind your eyelids, and then blackness. The ringing in your ears goes silent. Suddenly you hear, “Babe, babe…come back to me. Come on…come back.”

Your eyes flutter open.

“Jesus, baby scared the shit outta me.”

“Mmmm,” is all you can mange to say. You’re huffing out your breath. “You're so good to me, H. So, so good. You feel so good inside of me.”

“Breathe love, just breathe.”

You wrap your arms tight around his back, sensing that he might be trying to move. “No don't move. Wanna hold on to you just a little longer.”

He's brushing the hair out of your face. “Ya did so good. Tha’ was so intense.”

“Death by orgasm.”

You both giggle.

"No don't laugh baby, 'm cock is so sensitive.” That just makes you giggle again.

He groans. “Baby…. gonna get me hard again.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “Stop giggling, love.”

“Stop being funny!" You groan. “I don't think I'Il ever move again.”

“Ya gonna hafta move in a minute, need to change the sheets.”

You bury your face in his neck.

He smiles his beautiful smile. “God we have have to order a new bed..." He mutters to himself as he rolls to his side.

You roll over on your side next to him. “My God.." you breathe out. “Come away with me to cottage he says. It'll be fun he says. Let's stop for wine he says.” You glare at him playfully.

He chuckles.

“Fuck me Harry she says,” mimicking your voice.

You slap his chest and snuggle into him. A gentle silence falls over you.

He grabs your hand and placed it over his heart. “God I'm gonna miss you while I'm gone.”

“I'll miss you more.”

#sensory escape #original content #harry smut #harry styles smut

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lucky-peoqle · 3 years ago

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reunions and beloveds | c!wilbur soot

requested ? : yes !!

“c!revivedbur finding reader after asking tommy about them and just fluff and happy reunion :]”

pairing : c!revivedbur x reader (gender neutral)

warnings : swearing, fundy is mentioned a lot.

a/n : okay, so in this everyone is like their skins or the fanon hcs. like ranboo is an enderboy n tubbo has lil horns !! finally back to writing !! i’ve been in a weird funk abt writing so sorry about that ! all i gotta say is revivebur my beloved <3

he was alive.

wilbur soot was alive and breathing.

he didn’t know how, but he was.

all he could remember was dream dropping off a version of him, the version of him looked …. discolored and his face burning as tears fell from the corners of his eyes, and wilbur leaving him behind.

he look around his surroundings. ‘what the fuck is this,’ the man thought, looking at the alter type thing in front of him.

“oh fuck…,” he heard from behind him.

he turned, recognizing the voice. the corner of wilbur’s mouth twitched into a smirk.

“oh hello again.”

“awe fuck you,” the blonde boy said.

“really tommy? that’s all i get? come on! i’m alive for crying out loud! tommy, i have a second chance at life,” he somewhat shouted, laughing.

“calm yourself wilbur- here have some blue,” tommy threw it in his direction, hoping he’d catch it.

“don’t give me that shit-,” he said, walking away, looking out at what use to be l’manburg.

“oh shit,” he laughed, “oh fuck! did i do this?”

“yes!” tommy shouted angrily, “this is yours, take it,” he said, handing wilbur the lead to friend.

“no it’s not, who the fuck is that?”

“i- it’s friend?”

he ignored him, obviously not interested in the sheep. tommy sighed defeated, “at least take your sword.”

wilbur took his sword from him gratefully, he looked back down at…. l’manburg, looking at a certain goat boy and…. enderboy?

“tubbo! my man! look at you! aren’t you the president of this place? you don’t look very president-like,” wilbur laughed, walking down to the boy, ruffling his hair, careful not to hit tubbo’s small horns.

“well…. thing’s have certainly changed,” tubbo nervously laughed, fixing his hair.

“and who’s this? ronbow… ronboo?”

“that’s ranboo to you, pal,” tommy said defensively behind him, a scoff escaping him.

“ah okay, ranboo, hello!”

“yeah, um… hi?” ranboo said, somewhat awkwardly.

“wilbur, what did you do to ghostbur,” tommy demanded, “is he still in there or?”

“who? oh, ghostbur. i know him, yes. the discolored guy who looks like me. he’s stuck in my limbo now,” he chuckled.

“what do you mean?”

“my limbo is a train station, tommy. a never ending train station. finally, a train came, you know who was in that train? ghostbur and dream! he dropped off ghostbur and brought me here!”

“….dream?” tommy let out.

“dream! dream my hero!”

“… your- your hero!? that’s bullshit!”

“wait- wait! the memories are coming back! ghostbur lived in the sewer, it’s down here!” wilbur started to move down, but abruptly stopped once he remembered something very important.

how could he forget?

how could he forget his own damn significant other?

he needed to see them. now.

he wondered how they were doing. god, how he missed them.

their touch, their hugs, their kisses, their everything.

he turned to tommy, a look in his eye the blonde couldn’t recognize.

“what now wilbur?”

“where’s y/n?”

tommy let out a chuckle, “i’m not taking you to them, you hurt them enough.”

“tommy, you have to take me to them.”

“i won’t! you don’t deserve to see them after what you made them go through!”

“fine. i’ll just kill you then,” he said, lifting up his sword.

“WHAT? okay! FINE,” tommy said frantically, “just put down your sword!”

“good, you lead the way.”

so, tommy and wilbur said their goodbyes to ranboo and tubbo and set off.

y/n was settled in wilbur and their’s shared home. it was big enough for the both of them, very cozy.

a small cottage for the both of them, one bathroom, a kitchen, a living space to sit by the fire, dining era, two bedrooms, one for the two of you and what use to be fundy’s room.

fundy had been visiting you since wilbur had died, since he had always seen you as a motherly figure, since he grew up around you of course.

wilbur would have to visit fundy after his visit with you, even if fundy didn’t want to see him.

tommy and wilbur were now in front of the cottage he knew all too well. the flowers outside vibrant and colorful.

the lights of the cottage were on, the smell of baked goods coming from the open windows.

“are you ready?” tommy whispered to him.

“of course i am,” wilbur said, walking up to the door and opening it, walking inside.

“tommy? is that you? or is it fundy? i thought you were coming tomorrow? or is it… ghostbur?”

wilbur rolled his eyes at the mention of ghostbur, he walked into the kitchen, tommy following close behind.

“hello darling,” he said.

y/n whipped around, her eyes looking the man in front of her up and down.

“w…. wilbur?”

“did you miss me?”

they nodded, “of course! you just scared me, i thought you were fundy,” they giggled.

god, did he miss that sound.

“you also thought i was tommy and ghostbur apparently,” he smiled.

“oh shut up,” she said, “but um… how are you even…. alive?”

“dream, but i don’t want to explain it right now, i just want to enjoy your company.”

you nodded, walking up to him and holding his face in your hands.

“i like the hair,” they chuckled, running their fingers through his white streak.

he laughed, “really? i thought you would think i look dumb.”

“you know i wouldn’t,” they smiled, they noticed tommy awkwardly standing they.

“tommy help yourself to whatever you want, i just made cookies,” they pointed at the window where the cookies were chilling.

tommy thanked them and went off to the cookies.

they turned their attention back to wilbur, taking a good look at him before tearing up.

“oh darling, don’t cry please,” he said, wrapping them in his arms.

“i just missed you so much, i can’t believe you’re here,” they let out at sob.

wilbur held them for a little bit longer before pulling away and holding their face in his large, calloused hands.

they leaned into his touch as he wiped their tears away.

“i am never leaving you again, okay sweetheart?” wilbur continued, “through fire and ice, i am never leaving you, i promise.”

they nodded, a smile on their face, “i love you so much.”

“i love you more,” wilbur chuckled before pulling them into a long awaited kiss.

#wilbur soot x reader #c!wilbur soot x reader #c!wilbur soot x you #c!wilbur soot imagine #vilbur x reader #vilbur x you #wilbur soot imagine #mcyt imagine #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #dsmp x y/n #dream smp imagine #mcyt x you #wilbur soot #c!wilbur soot #revivebur #revivebur x reader #revivebur imagine

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lov3rs-go · 2 years ago

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2023 fashion predictions!!!!!

(Note: I do not have a fashion degree. But i'm usually ahead of the curb w these things.)

We are going to continue to see this super tumblr-grunge “rockstar’s gf” aesthetic throughout the rest of december with a touch of “city girl/lana del rey” and “winter y2k” vibe. (suede, mary janes, black tights / white fluffy knee-high boots, cropped puffer jackets, hello kitty..) I could see this morphing into a rus-core (weird ass name but im not sure what else 2 call it IM SO SORRY.) brutalist vibe- black monochromatic fits, big boots, cyber vibes mixed with a distinctly “vintage” vibe. But the 80’s are more “in” than ever, so it wouldn’t shock me if we leaned more towards an 80s-90s grunge/mall goth look either.

As winter comes to an end, the Tumble Girl (™) has it’s chance to absolutely BLOW UP. I could see us reverting right back to 2014 tumblr with maybe hints of 2020 cottage core during spring. (I think a nostalgia for 2020 is going to happen sometime in the future, where people start to miss the creative freedom 2020 gave us and we bring back those fashion trends in full-force- and though I can’t guarantee it will happen at the start of 2023, I definitely believe it will happen in the next year or two)

During the end of spring/start of summer, there's going to be a new “aesthetic” with maximalism/cyber y2k/manic-pixie-dream-girl vibes. Big, chunky plastic/resin jewelry, lots of silver (eye shadow, boots, skirts), chunky boots/shoes, fun hairstyles with lots of colorful hair clips/beads, big futuristic sunglasses, sportswear inspired jackets/tops. Sort of like a cyber-y2k revival of the retro futurist aesthetic in the 60s.

If you want fit ideas for any of the upcoming eras lmk I can put a pinterest board 2gether ! dont take this as gods word pls- im probably right but dont place ur bets on it. Also, following trends isnt important- do what you want. I just thought this could b interesting :P

#trends #2023 fashion #2023 fashion predictions #fashion predictions #cyber y2k #aesthetic #coquette aesthetic #grunge #also ik i mention goth and grunge being -#i meant the general aesthetic #not the actual music

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lucky-clover-gazette · 2 years ago

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(5971 words, rated g) in which shadow and vio cover an impressive amount of conversational and emotional ground. we've got some comedy, some angst, some hurt/comfort. we've got references to shadow's cringe blog from the manga side content, a retelling of their villain era through flashbacks (kind of), more stolen furniture, their first "i love you," a panic attack, asexuality, shadow trying to eat a dry erase marker, and so much more. this is nostalgic media for lots of people but i just learned about it last week. this fic is essentially my love letter to the story, ship, and their small but perpetually adoring fandom.

now that it's finished i wanted to post it here in its entirety, but you are also very welcome to check it out on ao3!

or, of course, read it under the cut:

Naturally, they stole the rolling whiteboard.

“You think Zelda will miss this?” Shadow asks as Vio opens their cottage’s front door. The frame is just high enough for Shadow to push it inside.

“Doubt it,” Vio says, craning his neck to see Shadow on the other side of the large item. “Looks like it’s never been used.”

“Why does she even have this? I don’t see her doing a lot of office work.”

“To be fair, we don’t really know the extent of her administrative duties,” Vio shrugs. “If she notices it’s missing, we’ll apologize and bring it back. That is today’s theme, after all.”

Shadow groans. “You’re a nerd. Where are we taking this, the den?”

“Sounds good to me.”

They roll the board together into their shared living room, cozy and small and lined with books. Vio goes to light the fireplace as Shadow rips open a package of dry-erase markers (also looted from Zelda’s office). He flicks the cap off the purple one and inhales deeply.

“That’s bad for you,” Vio says, not even needing to turn his head.

Shadow sticks out his tongue petulantly, then glances down at the marker, and wonders…

“NO,” Vio scolds, relieving him of the potentially delicious item with impressive haste.

It’s been a weird time for Shadow, learning about food. Before his resurrection, he had no need for food or drink, only enjoying it when he saw fit… or when he wanted to impress one specific person. Now, Vio is teaching him about all the different kinds of food in Hyrule, and the special ways they can be nutritious or harmful. Protein is good, Shadow knows, along with fruit and veggies. Fried food tastes good but isn’t an everyday staple. Lactose is a risk, but sometimes one worth taking.

And now he can add dry-erase markers to the list of non-edible things, along with Vio’s fancy shampoo and the paint they used to fix up the cottage’s exterior.

Vio caps the marker, shoves it in his pocket, and stands in front of the whiteboard like it’s an opponent in battle. He looks so stupid with his hands on his hips, expression deeply serious, that Shadow has to laugh. Vio’s head swivels and he looks genuinely flustered. “What? What’s funny?”

“It’s just… you,” Shadow says, smiling wide. “You’re taking this so seriously.”

He hugs around Vio’s waist from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Are you picturing the board in your head? Figuring out what to write?”

Vio snorts. “Maybe.”

“I’ve always known you well,” Shadow says, and then his face sours. “With one major exception.”

They’ve talked about it more this past month. Slowly but surely, they’ve been unpacking the time they spent together under Vaati and/or Ganon, including Vio’s betrayal and subsequent attempted execution. Shadow’s comment is made without malice and Vio knows it.

Vio’s been growing his hair out since the four split, and at this point it’s almost down to his shoulders. Shadow loves it. He would like nothing more than to sit around idly playing with it as Vio reads, instead of their actual plans for the day.

Vio shrugs Shadow off—not unkindly, but as a reminder of the task ahead. No such luck.

“I know you don’t want to do this,” Vio says tenderly, rubbing Shadow’s back as they stand side-by-side and face the blank board. “But I also know you want to do the right thing.”

Shadow grimaces. “Yeah. I do.”

Vio kisses the side of his head, minding the mangled black cap Shadow still proudly wears. The thing is sick as hell, what can he say?

“We’re gonna do this together, S,” Vio whispers. “I’m not going to leave you to do it alone.”

“I… thanks, V.”

Vio smiles reassuringly as he retrieves the purple marker. “Here,” he tells Shadow, putting the plastic cap in his pale hands. “You can fidget with this. Helps me when I’m anxious.”

Shadow nods and Vio finally gets to work. The marker squeaks against the board, forming a single phrase in huge letters:

THE SHADOW APOLOGY TOUR

Vio turns to Shadow with an infuriatingly smug grin. “Let’s get planning, shall we?”

━━

Objectives:

Apologize for all the atrocities (dragon arson, kidnapping, identity fraud, destruction of protected wildlife areas, petty and grand theft, vandalism, distribution of illegally acquired substances to hinoxes, disturbing the peace, etc.)

Community service

???

“I think that about sums it up, at least for now,” Vio says, proudly standing back to review their initial brainstorm. Shadow turns the plastic cap over in his hands, still trying to recall every bit of damage he inflicted upon the land of Hyrule.

They’ve talked about this, too. The inhumanity of Shadow’s actions. To a degree, they can be explained by the simple fact that Shadow wasn’t really human at the time. He wasn’t part of the light world, didn’t care to understand its living denizens or natural beauty. That doesn’t rob him of accountability, of course, but it does explain the carelessness with which he destroyed entire regions of Hyrule.

Since being resurrected, Shadow’s been learning a lot about the world—way more than just nutritional science. He’s learned about plants and animals, the history of Hyrule’s many towns and settlements, and the reasons why it rains and the ocean has waves and the sun goes away at night. Vio loves sharing all his knowledge with Shadow, and Shadow loves to listen. It’s a nearly perfect arrangement.

The only downsides of Vio’s teachings are moments like this, forcing Shadow to acknowledge the immense damage he caused. Still, it’s what he has to do. It’s what he wants to do. It’s the least he can do.

“So those are the abstract steps,” Vio says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now let’s get practical.”

“Must we?” Shadow asks half-heartedly.

“Yes, and to your credit, I can tell you’re really trying here.”

That makes Shadow blush, just a little. Good thing Hyrule’s Biggest Nerd Ever is too busy staring at the whiteboard to notice.

“Do you remember the specific places that were affected?” Vio asks, utilizing passive voice in an act of mercy. Oh Hylia, Shadow knows what ‘passive voice’ means, he really is down bad—

“Uh,” Shadow says, “kinda?” Not only did he destroy entire regions of Hyrule, but he also cared so little that he can’t name which ones.

“That’s okay,” Vio says, doing that dorky chin-on-hand thing in deliberation. “I remember a few. The good news is, we only hit parts of the countryside, mostly uninhabited by humans. I know you were about to steer us towards the humans, but then the sun started coming up, so we had to go back, and then the whole mirror thing happened…”

“Yeah. I was there too.” That part, Shadow definitely remembers.

“So no murder, that’s good!” Vio exclaims, pointing to the list of offenses. “Well, attempted murder of me via execution. And you kind of contracted me to kill Green. And you sentenced a bunch of people to the dark realm, which I’m not sure legally qualifies, but—”

“Why don’t we just tack murder on there and keep it moving,” Shadow says, turning the cap faster in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Vio says, taking a breath. “I just get really focused sometimes when I’m working on projects. I know this is hard for you.”

Shadow would mind Vio’s hyperfocusing more if it wasn’t so damn adorable.

“It’s fine,” he says with a sigh. “Jot down what you remember, I think I might have an idea. I’ll be right back.”

Vio looks mildly concerned as Shadow leaves the den, but nothing can compare to the dread Shadow feels. He remembered this… thing… last night at dinner, when the two came up with their plan to help him make amends. He didn’t say anything until now, despite knowing it was going to be useful eventually, because it is so incredibly embarrassing. And visceral. But it’ll help him know for sure what he did and where, and he really does want to give this his all.

Shadow ducks into his bedroom, a perpetually disorganized space, and reaches under his rarely-used bed for the item he knows he needs. He tucks it under his arm and returns to the den, where Vio looks very relieved to see him.

“Is that a laptop?” the blonde asks, cocking his head.

Shadow nods, and then sighs. “Vio… I need to tell you about my blog.”

━━

“The Shadow Chateau?” Vio reads off the screen, looking over Shadow’s shoulder from behind the couch. Shadow cringes. “I didn’t even think you used your laptop.”

“I don’t, anymore.” Shadow faces the stupid blog he maintained while serving Vaati and Ganon, complete with a clip art image of the Palace of Winds. This obviously isn’t the same laptop he used then—that one was from the dark world—but the Sheikah gave Zelda a few of their own to distribute amongst people she trusted for testing purposes.

“I’m not proud of what I posted here,” Shadow says slowly. “Honestly, I don’t remember a lot of it, but definitely enough to be embarrassed already.”

“Is it in order of, uh, most recent events?”

“Yep.”

“Oh. Great.”

They exchange a look, and a nod, and then turn back to the screen.

The first post on the blog is not at all what they expected:

V and I took a break to get some rest. Of course I don’t need to sleep, but I know he does. I could have gone for longer—we’re moving on to human-occupied towns next!!—but I want him to enjoy every second of this just as much as I am.

Shadow breathes in sharply. Vio looks confused. “I thought there’d be something from after the mirror.”

“No. I was in a pretty bad headspace then… not that these posts are the paramount of sanity either.”

“That one is sweet,” Vio says, kissing Shadow on the top of his head. “I would never have guessed that you didn’t need sleep. Before I went to the mirror, I stopped in to check on you. I could have sworn you were out.”

Shadow nods. “I didn’t need to sleep, but I was still exhausted. So I just… turned my brain off for a little while. I did it a lot more before you came along. I found it peaceful. It helped the time pass.”

“I can’t believe I almost shattered that mirror. It would have… Hylia, Shadow, I’m so sorry.”

“At least I would have gone out happy. I had no suspicions. I was such an idiot.”

Vio’s grip on Shadow’s shoulder tightens. “Not an idiot. I’m the idiot. I could have thought of an alternate plan, one that saved you.”

“No arguments here.”

Vio takes a deep breath and Shadow lets him. These simply just aren’t wounds they can heal in two or three conversations. It’ll take time. They’re working on it, slowly, together.

Hoping for something less mortifying, Shadow scrolls down to a series of photos. He is sorely disappointed. “I should never have stolen that Sheikah Slate.”

The photos are accompanied by a caption:

DAY WHATEVERTHEFUCK OF TERRORIZING THE COUNTRYSIDE WITH V!!!

“Wait, okay, this is helpful,” Vio says, leaning in closer. “Make the pictures bigger.”

Shadow is already too tired to argue. He expands the first, a selfie taken from the helm of a dragon. There’s a huge manic grin on Shadow’s face, but something is so clearly off about Vio behind him. Seriously, how the hell did he not notice?

“The land beneath us looks yellowish,” says Vio. “Gerudo Desert, I think. Did we hit the Arbiter’s Grounds? They’re abandoned, so no memorable casualties.”

“I think so,” Shadow says, and the next photo confirms it. This one is just of Vio, making a silly ‘shhhh’ face as a re-dead creeps in the corner of the shot. They were definitely inside the Arbiter’s Grounds here. And Vio looks happy… but like, for real this time.

Vio looks happy in the other photos too, for the most part. There they are on Mount Hylia, roasting marshmallows over the smoldering ruins of a lodge. There’s another selfie that appears to have been taken mid-air, Vio holding on tight to Shadow as he hovers above a lake. They laugh in some abandoned temple, pretending to pull a blue sword out of a stone (not Blue’s four sword, totally different vibe). They drink evil root beer, sober but oh-so-clearly intoxicated.

The last photo has no living subjects, but both Vio and Shadow recognize it immediately.

“That’s the view from our tower,” Vio says. “Why did you take this one? No one’s in it.”

Shadow furrows his brow. “I… I was just happy, I think. For once. It didn’t feel real, so I captured the moment. And… it wasn’t.”

Shadow can hear Vio moving, walking around to the front of the couch and sitting down beside him. Other than that, he’s silent.

“Did you enjoy yourself at all?” Shadow asks, hovering the cursor over the scroll bar.

“Yes,” Vio answers immediately. “I did. For real. Not with the death and destruction, but the shenanigans of it all? Very fucking fun. Don’t tell the others I said that, though.”

“Hylia forbid they know you enjoy spending time with me,” Shadow mutters. “Sorry. That’s not fair. I know that’s not what you mean.”

Vio rests his head on Shadow’s shoulder. “Just being around you was exhilarating. You were at peak chaos, like, blissfully unhinged, and it was scary…but also really attractive.”

Shadow did not expect that answer. “Uh, do you mean hot?”

“Well, sure,” Vio says, “but I always think that. It was more like your energy, your passion… it drew me in. The day we met, it drew me in. And the more we kept winning, the more sure of yourself you acted, the stronger it got. It was kind of intoxicating, actually. I wanted so badly to be on your level, but I just couldn’t let myself go all the way. I get that you didn’t know much about this world, so it was easier to take your actions lightly, but I felt the weight of it all. It was… exhausting. And terrifying.”

“And hot?”

“And hot. I liked it. Kind of. I could see it after the mirror, too, but it wasn’t from a place of happiness then. I don’t know why I expected anything different, but still, it was jarring.”

“You were stone-cold,” Shadow says, “after I found out. That didn’t help.”

“I’m not sure I could have said anything to take you out of that place.”

“You’re probably right.”

Vio pushes a sheet of paper onto Shadow’s lap. Seven locations are written down, seven places they can now visit and help heal. “It’s a great start.”

Seven entire areas devastated, and it’s all Shadow’s fault.

He’s awake, of course, but he feels… a little glazed over. When did that happen? Is this some kind of self-preserving mechanism, a side effect of his resurrection? It doesn’t feel good. He feels like he’s not in his body at all. He wants to be in his body, next to Vio, in their tiny cottage full of stolen furniture at the edge of town. But he also knows that if he moves a muscle, or opens his mouth, he’ll start crying and never be able to stop. He feels… like he never wants to feel anything ever again. Like that’s the last line of defense between him and becoming the same monster who made those posts, did those things, felt so much and let it consume him entirely.

“Hey,” Vio says softly. Shadow hears rustling, and then a pause. “Is it okay if I touch you right now?”

Shadow nods. Vio gently slides an arm behind his back, angling Shadow’s rigid body towards his own chest. “You must be feeling a lot.” Vio’s voice is calm, but holds no pity. “You’re very brave for confronting this. You didn’t need to tell me about these posts, or the blog, at all. But you did, because you care about making things right.”

That energy Vio described, it’s dangerous. It’s not a virtue. Shadow has a life now, one he likes—he can’t afford to experience powerful emotion. It makes him foolish, weak, and strong in all the worst ways.

Why did he post those things, or even do them in the first place? For what audience? He never cared what Vaati or Ganon thought of him, and sure, he wanted to impress Vio, but Vio wasn’t even on his side! He was showing clear signs of discomfort! How couldn’t he see how stupid he was being, how wretched, how unloveable and irredeemable and monstrous and proud of it all?

Vio carefully takes the laptop and paper from Shadow, allowing him to curl up completely in his arms. Shadow’s heart is pounding, he can feel the tears at the edges of his eyes, every single muscle in his body is tense and it’s hard to even breathe.

Vio’s heartbeat is steady, though. His body feels relaxed. Shadow can hear his even breaths.

They sit like that for a few minutes, Vio silently rubbing Shadow’s back as he wages war on himself. It’s a losing battle. He’s struggling. Something has to give.

So Shadow starts to laugh. And cry. At the same time.

Vio looks alarmed but relieved, unsure whether to mirror Shadow’s expression or call for a medic.

“I… am a terrible person,” Shadow says, tears running over his grin. “I’m seriously deranged. I can’t even cry right.”

“I don’t think there’s a wrong way to cry, Shadow.”

“If there was, I’d find it.”

Should he be joking right now? Probably not, but it’s his time. This whole stupid day is about him. And right now, Shadow just really needs to laugh… and cry. So he does, and he doesn’t hold back, and soon enough he’s okay. It takes some time to return to his body, to Vi’s arms, but he gets there all the same. He’s safe.

“Hi,” Vio says softly, letting Shadow pull away from the embrace. “I hope I did the right things.” He cups Shadow’s face with one hand and wipes a tear with the other. Shadow finds himself leaning into the touch.

“You have a beautiful smile,” Vio tells him, “truly. A lot of fake smiles, but then there’s your real one, and it’s… just like that, yeah.”

This is a foreign feeling for Shadow, one he’s only experienced in fleeting moments before:

He feels loved.

“You were a sight to behold, then,” Vio says, glancing at the photos on the screen. “But I prefer you like this.”

“Weak?” Shadow’s voice cracks.

“No.” Shadow feels himself pulled into another tight hug.. “Strong. You are the strongest person I know.”

“I’m… really tired.”

“It would be surprising if you weren’t. You’ve been working so hard to make things right. Everyone’s noticed it—Green, Red, Zelda, even Blue. And you’re keeping at it, even when it’s hard. Even when you could avoid it. I don’t think I would be working this hard in your position.”

“I was so unstable,” Shadow mutters into the fabric of Vio’s sweater. “Who’s to say I won’t go back to that, when something inevitably goes wrong? When someone doesn’t accept my apologies, when I’m forced to confront the wreckages that I created? When you do or say something that upsets me? And… if I somehow succeed in fixing everything I ruined, who’s to say I won’t grow arrogant and foolish, the same as before? I can’t imagine living without this guilt crushing me. It’s what keeps me human.”

“You’re assuming a lot of things about yourself.” Vio counters. “I was there, too, you know, before your resurrection. When you weren’t fully human. You did a lot of bad things, and you were wrong about the light, and someone needed to stop you before things got any worse. But I think you’d be surprised… that simply wasn’t the sum of your character. Even then, I knew it. The others knew it too. From what you’ve told me, Zelda figured it out almost immediately, and told you as much. There has always been good in you, Shadow. The only one who doesn’t think that is you… and maybe some random townspeople who don’t know you, but like, screw them. You can’t make everyone happy.”

Shadow looks up and sniffles. “I’m sorry I got tears on your sweater.”

“It’s okay,” Vio responds. “Hey, I want to show you something… would that be okay?”

“Vague, but proceed.”

Vio shifts Shadow’s position slightly so they can both see the laptop screen. Shadow cringes. “I retract my answer. No thank you.”

“I’m not going to force you to look,” Vio says, “but I really think you should. I think you should see the person you were, even then. The things you found important enough to record.”

“What, have you read ahead?”

“No. But I believe in you—who you were, and who you are now.”

Shadow blinks his eyes, relieved to find them dry. “Fine. I believe that this is going to be incredibly embarrassing, and probably just make me feel worse… but I’m no coward. Show me the damn blog.”

“Glad to hear you’re feeling better.”

“Shut up. Let’s just get this over with.”

Shadow scrolls down and the photos disappear. The next post, thank Hylia, is just a body of text:

Finally, it’s all coming together. We’re knocking down obstacles left and right. Soon we’ll douse this defenseless world in darkness, and rule whatever slice of it Ganon grants us. Everything is going completely according to plan.

Shadow turns to Vio. “See? Pure evil.”

“Keep reading.”

But something does bother me. It’s been a week or so since the fight in the volcano, and I do worry about what happened there with V. I don’t know much about these avatars of the Hero, but I do sense some sort of intuitive bond between them. Then again, I wouldn’t place V on the same plane of intelligence as those halfwits. Unlike his colorful counterparts, he feels like a real person, not an echo or singular trait… or, I suppose, a shadow.

The original plan was simply to stroke his ego and watch as it led him into our clutches. But V has demonstrated, time and time again, that he already possessed some innate attraction to the darkness before our first encounter. He is, in his own right, impressively wicked. He humbles me… although I’d never admit it to his face.

But still. He killed Green, because I asked him to, and seemed not to mind at all. I was expecting him to voice some sort of concern, at least, but he was surprisingly resolute. In the past few months he’s only cracked a few times, which is more than I can say for myself. I fully admit that things upset me and I respond accordingly. Vio, meanwhile, is like stone.

I wish I could ask him how he feels. We both know he’s been off since the duel, but I have no idea how to approach such a conversation. I’m honestly beside myself that I even care.

Maybe a joyride on the dragon will help. Some sight-seeing, local cuisine. I bet he’d enjoy the Arbiter’s Grounds ruins, if only so he can over-explain Hyrule’s history as we forge its future.

I hear him at my door now.

Shadow seizes the laptop. “Okay, I’m reading these before you can,” he says, trying and failing to hide his blush. This is preposterous! He sounds pathetic!

The next post is a video, focused on Vio as he takes his first sip of evil root beer. His expression is… layered. That’s the fairest term for it. This must have been taken right after he ‘killed’ Green, receiving much fanfare from Shadow for his efforts. The weight of the day is clear in his expression, but so is something else: pleasure. Comfort. Sadness.

“Bittersweet,” he hears Vio say. Shadow sighs and returns the laptop to its spot between them. No use making Vio crane his stupid neck to see the thing.

Given the timeline they’re piecing together, Shadow scrolls down further and expects the worst. Sure enough, his past self delivers.

Hoooooooooly shit. V totally just murdered Green. Like, sword through the abdomen murdered. And he bantered with me, and we completely blindsided those idiots, seriously, they had no idea.

At this point the world is as good as ours. I can’t believe he did it. I can’t believe WE did it. We are drinking tonight!!1!

Vio chuckles. “The, uh, confetti and party popper emojis are a little over the top.”

Shadow turns his head, dumbfounded. “Seriously, you’re not mad? These are the writings of a madman, Vio!”

“Shadow. You were excited. You had every reason to be excited, especially right after everything went down. You… didn’t have the moral compass you do today, or the appreciation for human life and Hyrule itself. Those things just didn’t matter.”

“Yeah, well, you mattered,” Shadow hears himself say. “Obviously.”

“I was wondering if you were gonna try to deny it.”

“Fine, never mind, you mean nothing to me and I hate you. I wish Green had won.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

And then it occurs to Shadow—Vio didn’t even kill Green. Like, it never happened. That blood is not on anyone’s hands. It didn’t actually fucking happen.

Shadow has never been more grateful for Vio’s deception than he is now. Emboldened by his sense of relief, he scrolls again.

Had a little talk with V today after all the mindfuckery with the poes. Some weird magic shit was going on with the four sword and for a second he really looked like the Hero of Hyrule. Of course I set him right—or wrong, I guess—and he came to his senses. He’s a creature of darkness now. When I told him we were alike, back in the woods, I had no idea how accurate the sentiment would prove to be.

I do feel guilty being so hard on him, though—me, guilty, it’s crazy! But really, he can’t help where he came from, or *who* he came from.

That still confuses me. We are so far from the same person. It’s nothing like I’d imagine with a brother, or a family member, even with Vaati or Ganon. I guess it helps that we do look relatively different, despite our shared affinity for purple and outfits modeled after the Hero’s. I wonder, years down the line, if we’ll still look the way we do now. I really hope Vaati and/or Ganon give us the go-ahead to dress differently at least, because this shit would not be my style of choice.

Maybe, when the world is engulfed in darkness and the others are long gone, V will be able to claim the singular identity of the Hero. Although at that point I suppose he wouldn’t be much of a hero at all.

V really is something special. One-of-a-kind, despite everything. I so badly want him to know that. The sooner he realizes that this is where he belongs, the better.

“Huh,” Vio says, his expression unreadable.

Shadow flinches. “I feel like I should be apologizing.”

“No, I don’t think so. If I wrote down everything I ever thought about you, it would probably read as a little obsessive as well.”

“Uh, thanks?”

The funny thing is, that absolutely makes Shadow feel better. Vio can be insensitive a lot of the time, but when he knows what to say, he knows exactly what to say.

Further down they find another selfie, Vio and Shadow sharing snacks as they supervise the Poes, followed by a break and another body of text.

Got slapped by Zelda today. She’s the worst. She called me a “faint and twisted echo,” whatever that means. She said that I’d be the one crying by the end of this whole thing. Screw that, screw them all. I’ve got an ace up my sleeve with the purple hero (I’ll call him V). No one will see this coming, not even her.

I should probably try to get to know the guy, though. I want to make sure he’s really on my side.

Vio snorts. “Zelda slapped you?”

“I mean, I probably deserved it.”

“Oh, you definitely deserved it.”

MAJOR UPDATE: I GOT THE PURPLE HERO. It was so easy, I just had to corner him in the woods and tell him how smart he is. And it was SUPER FUN. I enjoy messing with people in general, but with this one it was like a whole different game. And I swear, he looks at me in a way that’s different from the rest—not with fear, but intrigue.

Right now he’s just sulking alone in his room, but I’ll have to start really breaking him down soon. We could do some great things together, if he does what he’s told.

Vio turns to Shadow, amused. “You really thought I was going to take orders?”

“I mean, not for long. It just hadn’t occurred to me that there could be more to our… arrangement… than me simply controlling you. Like, that you’d take initiative.”

“I don’t think I expected myself to take initiative,” Vio admits. “But it was fun. I liked bantering with you and getting my repressed annoyance out on the others. I appreciated your attention, even if it was just some manipulative game at first. In full honesty, if you were trying to corrupt me, you didn’t completely fail.”

Shadow cannot believe he’s smiling. He can’t believe Vio is smiling. He can’t believe any of this… but somehow, Vio did. He believed in Shadow without even needing to read ahead.

“Wait, so this is before the forest now, right?” Vio asks, raising his eyebrow at the remaining posts.

“Well yeah,” Shadow says, “my life didn’t start the day I met you.”

“Rude.”

“Buuuuut it was definitely more boring. I watched what you guys were up to a lot, back when you were traveling as a group. Definitely hit maximum jealous rage levels when you went to the amusement park.”

“Oh shit, I forgot about that.”

“Yeah, well, it pissed me off. I couldn’t go out during the day and you idiots could. That’s why I started the blog in the first place, actually—I was tasked with watching you, but it just made me feel left out. Nothing cool is open at night here.”

“I’m sure we could find some places to hang out,” Vio offers. “Although I guess now the whole daytime thing isn’t a problem.”

Shadow smirks. “Thank darkness for that.”

They look into each other’s eyes, and it’s like they’re meeting each other again for the first time again. That is, until Vio turns back to the screen and his jaw drops.

Today I went to the amusement park with my girlfriend.

Now it’s Vio’s turn to cry-laugh, while Shadow cringes harder than he did when literal war crimes were involved. “Oh, this was a fantastic idea,” Vio says between gasps.

“Well I’m glad you’re having fun, because I’m reconsidering my stance on murder.”

It takes him longer than Shadow would have liked, but Vio calms down. Then, after reading the post a second time, he appears to be confused. “Wait, you like girls?”

Shadow blinks. Have they not talked about this? “Uh, not every single one of them. But sure, in theory, if I wasn’t already… nope, not giving you that much credit. Do you like girls, Vio?”

Vio shakes his head. “Don’t think so. The Hero was different, though—pretty open to all possibilities. So I suppose it makes sense you are too. And I… I guess I got the gay braincell? I mean, gay as in… guys. Only. Is there a word for that, besides gay? You get what I’m trying to say, right?”

Shadow thinks this is adorable. “Yes, Vio, I get what you’re trying to say. It’s funny, I kinda figured you’d be an expert in queer theory, given your expertise in, like, everything else.”

“I mean, I didn’t have a very long time to ponder. I kinda just appeared, from the Hero, and then I met you. And, uh… figured it out pretty quickly from there.”

He’s blushing! Vio’s blushing! Shadow made Vio blush, and everything that sucked about this day is suddenly worthwhile.

(Except for the atrocities. Of course.)

“Well, I’m glad we both agree about boys,” Shadow says, taking Vio’s hands in his own. “Otherwise, the way we conducted ourselves on that throne would have been super confusing.”

Vio smirks. “Let’s be real, everything we’ve ever done in each other’s company would have made exponentially less sense if we weren’t some flavor of queer.”

It feels good to say this kind of stuff out loud, and Shadow can tell Vio feels the same way. The fact that they like each other, that they’re attracted to each other, that they’re together, it’s all just so damn good to say. They’ll never be Hyrule’s golden couple—that title belongs to Green and Zelda, who have performed significantly fewer crimes than Vio and Shadow—but they’re perfectly happy living in quiet domestic bliss.

“Can I kiss you?” Vio asks, trying very hard not to trip over his words.

Shadow nods without hesitation. “Of course, genius.”

And it’s wonderful, as always, just the way they both know they like it. No complaints from Shadow. 10/10.

Physical intimacy, too, has been a slow development for the pair. It was inevitable from the first time they kissed—really, the first time they shared that damn throne—that Shadow would have to bring it up eventually. The fact that, while extremely touchy and very eager to receive affection, he’s just not interested in certain physical relations a lot of other couples enjoy. He was nervous to bring it up at first, worried that he wouldn’t be able to give Vio everything he wanted in a partner. He even started to convince himself it wasn’t going to work between them at all.

And yes, Shadow had to be patient while explaining the whole ‘asexual’ thing to Vio, who would probably place himself somewhere on a spectrum rather than a far end. But it’s okay. It’s not something Vio needs, and there are plenty of other couple’s activities that ignite their passion. Few things build intimacy between Shadow and Vio more effectively than mischief. No wonder their meet-cute was also their villain arc.

This apology tour can be a bonding experience for them, too. There are going to be some genuinely distressing times ahead, if Shadow really means to do things the right way. People are not always going to be kind to him, and by extension Vio. They’ll probably end up pissing each other off at least once in a while. But they’re not their only people—when that happens, Vio can blow off steam with Red, Blue, and Green, and Shadow can text Zelda on the Sheikah Slate. They’re actually friends now, despite the kidnapping and slapping of it all. Actually, if Shadow could mend his interpersonal relationship with Zelda of all people, maybe he does stand a chance in his efforts to heal Hyrule.

“Hey, Vio?” Shadow says, pulling back from a kiss. He keeps his hand in Vio’s hair and looks right into his eyes. Say it, he tells himself. It’s time. You know it’s time.

“Yeah?” Vio asks, eyes sparkling.

“Thank you for caring so much about me. For doing all of this work today. For stealing a whiteboard.”

“Of course. Thank you for trusting me.”

Time freezes, and despite all the history behind them—or perhaps, even because of it—they both know what’s about to happen.

So they say it. Together.

And the future has never looked brighter.

#four swords #four swords manga #vio link #shadow link #vidow #shadow x vio #vidow fanfic #my writing #fs

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