#i still have other one shots in the works so hopefully those are better than this!

[bunnys-kisses]

sibling situation

simon 'ghost' riley

cw: smut & plot, mactavish!reader, size kink/difference, missionary sex, unprotected sex, marriage & babies (at the end), romance, simon's found family

this rabbit runs on reblogs & comments! feed the rabbit!

simon knew that johnny had a sister. you had been brought up in conversation tons of times. after the death of your parents, you and johnny were really all each other had. but johnny left for the military right before turning eighteen and you struggled to put yourself through university. it wasn't the easiest life and simon could understand, he had his own scars of his childhood.

"so, why are you dragging me out here again, johnny?"

"get ya out of that shoe box flat. got a little more leg room where i am."

johnny had driven the car all the way to edinburgh with a promise that a little time away would do wonders for the other man. simon had his ear talked off about how london was just too big, and while edinburgh was a city. it would be a break from the intense metropolitan of london. if need be the two of them and you could go on a getaway to the countryside.

"this better be good, johnny."

"ah, don't worry! i promise, you'll have the time of your life!" johnny reached over and slapped his friend on the back, "plus, you have to meet my sister."

the flat that you shared with johnny was well kept. of course it was, your brother was out most of the year with an automatic deposit for rent and when he was home, it was so ingrained with the military that things were kept tidy. and you on the other hand enjoyed tidiness as well.

even if cleaning the place in his absence felt a bit much sometimes, you still at least picked up your socks off the floor, put the clean dishes in the cupboard and washed out the carafe of the coffee maker. but you had worked over time to make sure everything was perfect, not for your brother (he could clean himself), but rather the mysterious guest that he was bringing.

you didn't want his lieutenant to think you lived like animals!

when the knock on the front door came, you happily welcomed them. your gaze was captured away from your grinning brother and rather the larger man beside him. he wore a black medical face mark, but you could see the tiredness in his eyes. the mop of blond hair and a slight scar over his eyebrow.

"oh, kid, this simon. simon riley, my lt." johnny smiled, patting his fellow solider on the arm.

you shot him a glance, "i'm almost thirty, johnny. i'm far from a kid." you were a bite fiery, simon liked that.

johnny beamed back at you, "but you'll always be my little sister. gotten into trouble while i was gone?"

you let both men in and replied, "well except for yelling at those stupid kids from the secondary school about smoking in front of my window. nothing else really happened."

johnny dropped his bags on the hardwood floor and kicked off his boots. he put them correctly by the door before he stretched his arms over his head, "where's that guy you were seein'. teddy or somethin'?"

simon stood a little straighter. of course you had a boyfriend, look at you!

you waved your hand, "oh, he's long gone. i guess cousin nikki's words are true." you looked at your brother, "never date a man in finance. turns out he had more than one bonnie in his pocket."

johnny dropped his shoulders and remarked, "never liked the guy anyway. seemed a little uptight, would never survive a gathering of the mactavish's." he laughed.

simon felt odd in the space. seeing the siblings interacting. he thought of his own brother for a moment. instead he just followed suit and took off his heavy boots as well.

you looked at simon, "i hope it's okay that you take the couch. this place is only two bedrooms. the couch." you gestured to it, "does pull out so hopefully you'll have enough room. but, if you don't, tomorrow my lovely brother can give up his room."

"my room!" johnny replied loudly, "i've still got sand in my crack for the mission and you're givin' my room!"

you shot your brother a glance which johnny coward from. no words had to be said. johnny knew that it would be the right thing to do. after all, simon was his guest.

the afternoon went by slowly, and you and johnny moved through the small kitchen like a team. johnny was good at dicing and you were good at keeping an eye on the sauteeing vegetables.

"simon." you said which made simon look up from his spot at the small dining table. your eyes met and you pushed some hair out of your face, "two things. one, there should be a headband on the table it's soft and used for make-up. i need to get this hair out of my eyes. secondly, johnny never said that you had any dietary issues. is there anything i should avoid? i just sort of got our normal grocery order."

simon perked a little bit more, "oh i don't have any allergies or anything, ma'am." he gave a small nod, "i could eat anythin'."

you nodded, "okay, excellent!"

the blond found in endearing. it was almost hypnotic watching you put together the vegetables with the hearty pasta sauce. you worked a stove top like no other. the only problem was that your brother kept getting in the way of his sight of you.

been a while since a woman cooked him a meal.

simon got up quickly and gave you the headband. it was soft and pink colour with two sewn on cat ears made of the same material. you put it on and simon's heart skipped a beat. you were just so beautiful.

dinner of pasta, toasted buns and salad were served with a bottle of grocery store wine. the three of you drank, ate and chatted. you and johnny had most of the conversation while simon enjoyed listening.

he figured out that he could listen to you talk forever.

"well, i'm tired." johnny said as he rubbed his eyes. he finished the rest of his wine before he got up. he patted you on the top of the head, "i'll do the dishes in the mornin'. thanks for dinner, kid."

you rolled your eyes, pouring yourself another glass, "i'm not a kid."

johnny chuckled then looked to simon, "she'll get ya comfortable for the evenin'. i'll see ya tomorrow." before his tired steps headed towards the bedroom. soon the door closed and the sound of his body hitting the bed could be softly heard.

you leaned back in the kitchen chair, one leg draped over the other with your arms crossed. you admitted, "it must be hard to date. finding someone who understands your world."

simon stretched out a little more in his chair. he eyed the empty wine glass in front of him, "i try not to think about it so hard."

"i've heard stories about you. the terrifying ghost. there one moment, gone the next." you then reached across the table to drag a finger down the inside of simon's wrist, "i wonder if i had you in my bed tonight, if you'd be gone by morning."

your admission made simon's dark eyes grow a little wider. he said, "well, i have nowhere else to go."

you smiled a little, "must be lonely. i know it's lonely for me. to feel close to someone."

simon asked, "do you want to sleep with me miss mactavish?"

you chuckled lowly, as to not awake your brother in his room. you leaned back a little once more and gazed at him. you were definitely johnny's brother. the look in your eye said it all. you tilted your head a little to the side and asked, "is it that obvious, mister riley?"

the sound of wooden chairs against the floor as the two of you made your way to the bedroom. you took simon by his tattooed wrist and got him into your room. the door was shut a little louder than you hoped. you turned on the light and simon was already working the belt of his jeans.

you were quick to get your t-shirt off and you saw simon's hungry gaze on you as you became free of your clothes. his eyes raked the exposed skin and thought you looked like a dream.

"like what you see, simon?"

he nodded, "more beautiful than the photos, ma'am."

you covered your mouth while you giggled, "no need for the formalities. if my brother is underranked by you, then i'm sure as hell as a civilian."

simon got a hold of your waist, "you deserve a little more respect than your brother." then pulled you in for a soft kiss. even with his scars that you had seen over dinner. you thought he was beautiful.

it made you warm all over as you pulled the dark t-shirt on his shoulders. he helped you get out of it. and your hands pressed against his chest. you admired the scars, the tattoos, the overall beauty of him.

"i wish my brother had said his lt was hot prior. i would've tried to get with you sooner."

simon picked you up by the waist, your legs wrapped around his waist as he brought you to the bed and sat you down. he then started to work at the button of your jeans. once they were off, he cupped the bulge in his pants.

you slipped out of your simple purple panties and the white bra you wore. you then laid out on your bed with your hands behind your head and you giggled softly.

simon was absolutely smitten by you. he had come to the conclusion that when they were talking about the beauties in scotland. they meant you. and only you. once you were both naked, he got onto the bed.

the bed was a bit smaller than he had hoped, but you two could fit into it thankfully. he was worried that his large, bulkier frame would inch you off of the mattress. but it was a lot easier when he got between your legs. his achy erection, bright red at the tip, begged for attention.

you swallowed a little, "i wonder if it'll fit."

"then you tell me if it does. got it? you mactavish's have a habit of not showing pain." simon gave you a pointed gaze.

you covered your face for a minute, "okay. talk about my brother ends here. i don't want to hear about him while you're balls deep inside of me."

simon chuckled lightly and leaned in for another kiss. he said softly, close to your lips, "if it's anything, love. you're much more a looker than he is."

you held onto his blond locks and pulled him in for a hot kiss. you made a small noise when he shifted your hips up against him. to get a better angle of his cock inside of you.

"simon."

he said softly, his voice still gravely, "beautiful, beautiful girl. i don't know what that last boyfriend of yours was thinkin'. why want another when he could have you. but, i guess that means more for me."

your cheeks grew hot and simon pressed his cock up against you wet slit. you felt your heartbeat race at the anticipation of what was to come. you tensed up at the feeling of his cock being pushed into it.

"i got ya, i got ya. you feel so good there, love."

you nodded, "it's been a while. sorry if i'm too.. tight."

simon loomed over you like a comforting shadow. he gazed down at you, but there was a softness to his tired eyes. you didn't realize how pretty his eyes were. a deep dark brown, that lured you in while in the soft lighting of your bedroom.

he started to move against you and you let out a small moan. the bed squeaked a little bit. thankfully the frame didn't hit the wall. you two had to be somewhat quiet. even if your brother could be heard snoring in the room next to yours.

the sex between you two was quick, but not rough. the idea of bruising such a beauty made simon feel disgusted. you were meant to be cherished. he wanted to know everything about you.

"you are quite handsome, simon."

"thank you, love." he said softly as he held onto your thighs and moved against you. even in missionary you looked beautiful. the slight bounce of your breasts in time with his movements. he wanted to kiss all your soft parts throughout his visit in your sweet home.

he could get used to a warm meal and a warm cunt to bury himself into every night. maybe johnny was right, staying with you was better than being in london.

maybe he could get used to scotland.

he knew he could fit easily into the chaos of the mactavish family. if he could handle johnny, then he could handle you. at least he could fuck one of you quiet.

you felt your heart hammering at the feeling of it all. your noises were so sweet that it made simon need to bury himself deeper inside of you. he needed to feel all you could offer.

call him a sick puppy, but his brain was now wired to need you. you were a hit of a feeling that simon was so painfully unfamiliar with that it almost scared him. but as he admired the sight of you under him.

those soft lips partially opened, your eyes closed. you looked like an angel, and he swore he found heaven.

"beautiful." he said softly, his rugged voice made you feel like honey. gooey and warm, filling.

you came with your hands in his shaggy blond hair. your back arched as you felt the heat through you. you moaned a little louder than you hoped for as he continued to thrust up into you.

panting breaths between heavy thrusts as you laid spread out on the bed, letting simon move quicken his pace to reach his climax. he could feel it on the tip of his tongue. and with a few more heavy thrusts, he finished inside of you. his cheeks flushed and his mouth hung open in a heavy pant.

"fuck, simon."

"beautiful." he said absently. not able to think of much else besides your beauty. you were the kind of woman that simon was into.

he pulled out of you and rested down beside you on bed. you chuckled softly, your head still a little full of post orgasmic bliss. you got the covers on top of you and cuddled him naked.

clothed would be a worry in the morning.

when morning came, simon tried to slink back to the couch before johnny woke up. but when he exited your room and entered the main living space. he found johnny sitting there at the kitchen table. he was leaned back into his seat. simon caught sight of the pistol on the worn wooden table.

"so, si." johnny said, looking away from his paper to look at his fellow solider, "what are yer intentions with my sister?"

it had been a very long time since simon felt the stone of dread in his stomach. he tried not to show it across his scarred face. simon could instantly recall every military statistic that johnny had. there could be a million and one ways that the scottish solider could kill simon. and it wasn't like simon could do anything, he couldn't kill your brother.

there was a brief moment of silence between the two of them. neither made a motion or noise. simon wondered what was to come next. no amount of training could've prepared him for this.

but johnny broke the silence with laughter, "i'm just messin' with ya! the gun's not even loaded. just wanted to scare ya." he leaned forward in his seat. he looked at simon, "i don't care how my sister sees, but i have to be a little bit intimidating, don't ya think so, si?"

simon chuckled nervously.

johnny's suddenly expression dropped and he put down his paper in favour of the unloaded pistol. he pointed the front of it to simon, one eye closed as if he was going to shoot the blond in front of him. he said, "but if you break her heart there, simon. i won't be so forgiving."

the doorway to your bedroom opened with a loud creak and your voice rang through the apartment the three of you were in, "I swear to god! john michael mactavish! you better not be intimidating him!"

-

"you're seriously crying?" you asked your brother as you watched him gently take a hold of your newborn. your brother was a military man for christ's sake. he was weeping like a baby.

simon loomed over his colleague, protective over his newborn. his stern brown gaze read simply, "don't fuck it up, soap." he was ready to jump in if johnny fucked it up.

you were resting back in the hospital room, you just had your child with simon. you two had been married for a little over three years. it became habit for simon to come with johnny post-missions. the drive up to the city and you waiting for them.

a hug for your brother, a kiss for your lover.

now you were watching your brother cry at the sight of his nephew. the chubby little boy bundled up in a blanket. unaware of his weepy uncle. you looked at him with a slightyl stunned expression.

you probably cried less when you finally pushed him out. you didn't want to tell him the news because you thought he was going to cry more. while your son's first name was oliver, his middle name was john. after the crying mactavish in the hospital room.

"he really takes after us." john remarked when his cries died down.

you chuckled, "he sure does, johnny. now hand him over before you drop him." <3

[simpcityy]

I’m Not Her (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This is very short as well! Just a little prompt I thought also, I know the song is about a girl who loves a boy etc., but I thought of it more as father and daughter way. *Ahem* Him thinking of Gabi rather than the present daughter he has…I’m sorry if I confused you.

Word Count: 500

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad. Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Being the biological daughter of Miguel O’Hara has its ups and downs but mostly downs according to you. Walking through the Spider Society, you held some reports from Jess, she was on her way to hand them over to your father but seeing the kind person you are, you decided to do it for her so she can rest. You're amazed how a woman so pregnant can still fight. Walking down the halls, you were alone with your thoughts. The time he left to be a father to another girl..a girl named Gabriella…were you not enough for him? What did Gabi have that you didn’t? So many thoughts running through your head only to be snapped from hearing Mayday giggling in the room. Taking a deep breath, you pushed in ready for the chaos. “Hey! (Y/N)!” Peter smiles holding an energetic child. “Hey” You responded before looking over at Miguel who was looking at the videos that hurt you the most. Videos of him and Gabriella. You only frown a bit before masking it. “I'll just drop this off” You dropped the files onto a flat surface before walking to the door. “Hey Boo! You going to ask him?” Lyla appears in front of you smiling. You look at her and back to Miguel before shaking your head. “No…he has better things to do” You whisper walking through her, leaving. Lyla watches you staying quiet before next to Miguel. “Files were dropped.” She brought him back to reality. “Hmm? Who?” He mutters looking at the AI. He goes down his platform and picks up the files you left. “(Y/N) did, she was here not long ago” Lyla looks at her phone scrolling through it. Miguel looks at the door where you left not long ago.

Sitting out on the roof of your dimension, your thoughts only seem to be filling you up with anger. Why did he leave you to be a father for another kid…yeah, she lost her father but so did you…he left you to be with her. You groan out in frustration before looking at the time. “There is not enough time left” You mutter before getting up and going back to the house. A home where you stopped waiting for him to come home. Upon reaching your room, you changed into your pjs before walking over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you pulled out a cake you ordered yourself from your favorite shop. Placing it on the table, you put the candles on and sat down in front of it. “Happy Birthday to me…happy birthday to me…” You began to sing before letting out a sob. Your candles were put out from your tears. Another year alone and many more to go.

“If I could be her…but I’m not her and she’s not me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: This was just little one-shot. An idea that always comes to mind whenever I listen to that amazing song! I am working on part 3 of the Biomedical Engineer x Miguel. Hopefully this weekend it comes out along with the last part of my first father figure Miguel x reader. Please check those out if you haven’t. I’m stuck if I should make this into a full series as well, but I don’t know if people would interest in it. Anyways, as always sorry for any grammar errors. Thank you all for the support! Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 62!) Thank you so much for the follows and please you are welcome to reblog my works for others to be aware of this new Miguel O’Hara simp writer!

[muddyorbsblr]

charades

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: pre-relationship era; months before 'one look and they'll know'

Summary: After a particularly horrible day on set, Chris extends an invitation for you to join the cast in a game of charades to unwind.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warning/s: workplace bullying (mentioned); language [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: hints of mutual pining; we're in Hemsworth's POV

"Come on, it'll be fun, Tiny Terror, I promise." Chris gave your shoulders a slight shake to hopefully snap you out of the sour mood you'd been in all day. It was more than obvious why, considering that there were a good few production assistants that looked like they were on their own personal mission to get you to break composure and break a nose, constantly putting your team down for working too slow or some other reason.

One of them even tried insisting that there were props out of place so they could call into question your skill in clocking the continuity between shots. And while it was simple enough to debunk their accusations, it had also been a rather tedious day even just watching all of the little inconveniences happen that seemed hellbent on putting a damper to your day. He couldn't imagine how much more stressful it was in your shoes.

You were only allowed a few minutes to breathe without much worry when those assistants were pulled aside for Taika to have a word with them. Because other than him, there was someone else that not only witnessed the borderline harassment that occurred today, but was damn near foaming at the mouth to start snapping at them for their insolence.

Tom.

And right now Chris could only imagine that the Brit was standing at full height putting forward every single intimidation tactic he had on display at those people and asking them point blank if they had some sort of issue with you.

"I really don't know, Hemsy, it's been a long day. I kinda just want it to be over," you sighed, the facade you'd put in place of trying to look unbothered finally cracking as your shoulders slumped. "No idea who fucking pissed in their cereal this morning but if their goal was to drag someone down with them, they fucking succeeded. Just wanna go back to my hotel room and order a big bowl of pasta and a bottle of wine and turn my phone off until tomorrow morning."

"Alright, how about this. Just a few rounds, and if you hate it, I'll pay for your pasta and wine?"

You paused, thinking over his offer for a few seconds before finally sighing, "Fine. Thirty minutes. But if I tell you I wanna go, you better be ready to order me the fattest bowl of truffle cream pasta you can find."

Just as you walked off back to your team, Taika and Tom came out of one of the back offices where they sequestered the offending crew members. There were visible scowls on their faces as they muttered to themselves while Taika whispered some instructions to security, probably telling them to keep an eye on the troublemakers moving forward.

"Saw you talking to Lil Mayhem," Taika spoke up once he stood where you did just a few moments ago. "She alright?"

Had the situation not been so tense, Chris probably would have poked a bit of fun at the way Tom's face became visibly more animated as he scanned the set trying to find you. If the Brit became even the slightest bit more enamored with you and still refused to do anything about it, he might have to tell you himself just to caution you that if you didn't feel the same way, you'd have to let him down gently. And preferably sooner rather than later.

"She will be," Chris answered. "She's joining us later."

"Ah perfect," the New Zealander exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "We can pair her off with Tom."

"Hmm?" There was an alarmed look in Tom's eyes now, the sound coming out of him uncharacteristically higher pitched than normal.

"Oh come on, mate, did you really think nobody noticed? You look at her like a pup, wagging its tail and jumping in place when its mum comes home." Chris clapped a hand down on his shoulder, trying not to laugh at how mortified he looked finding out his subtle "work crush" on you wasn't exactly that subtle. "Just don't go humping her leg when she walks in."

"Oh my God, yes you're here too," Tessa exclaimed when you walked into Taika's suite, doing a little bounce on her place at the couch and patting the seat beside her. "We can be partners and smoke their asses."

"Hemsworth promised to buy me pasta if I hated it," you told her with a shrug, sitting at the vacant seat. You didn't seem to have noticed that Tom had moved over, making room next to him on the other side of the table. "And I'm not one to turn down free food."

"Tessa you're already partnered with Chris over here," Taika informed her, pointing at the Australian.

"Hold on since when?" He simply showed her a paper containing all your names, your eyes widening slightly when you saw that yours was next to Tom's. "Fine," she huffed, shifting her gaze over to Chris. "We got this."

Taika then presented a little fishbowl containing folded scraps of paper and explained that a single turn would consist of each of you picking out a paper and trying to sign out whatever was on their paper, while the other had to guess what it was. Straightforward enough. "Whoever's signing cannot talk, but they can make sounds if they think it'll help," he kept on explaining. "Winning pair will get…a nice swanky dinner for two when we get to LA for the premiere. Sound good?"

Lay it on a little thicker, Taika, I don't think they're catching on yet, Chris thought sarcastically, immediately clocking the way your cheeks were reddening and Tom was without a doubt imagining what it would be like to be sitting across from you in a fancy restaurant, imagining that you two were on a proper date. What with the way he couldn't keep his eyes off of you, along with that dopey lovestruck smile painting his face every time you even shared the same breathing space, it wasn't that hard to take a guess what the Brit was thinking right at this moment.

Once everyone had a scrap of paper in their hand, Taika spun a little wheel of your names to pick out which pair went first. "Alrighty then, Tom? Y/N? Which one of you'll be guessing first?"

"Oh, uhm…can I guess first? 'Cause I can't sign for shit."  Your request as you addressed Tom sounded casual enough, had it not been for the chuckle at the end that immediately had both Chris and Taika knowing much better than to mistake your demeanor for 'casual'. Seemed you were as skittish around Tom as he was around you.

And maybe Chris didn't have to interfere and advise you to let his friend down easy after all. Maybe he just had to sit back and let you two find each other at your own pace.

Though admittedly this was the type of behavior that started out cute but would grow frustrating to watch if it went on for too long. If neither of you made a move in the coming weeks he might be tempted to lock you two in a cramped storage closet to move things along.

Tom stood up from his seat, cheeks quickly becoming tinged with pink when he saw the words on his little scrap of paper before looking up and holding your gaze. On a whim, Chris decided to take his phone out and have his camera at the ready.

The chime on Taika's phone signaled him to start, and he held up five fingers in front of you.

"Five words." He then nodded and held up one finger before creating a letter "T" with his hands. "First word 'The'." He held up four fingers next and did the "T" symbol again. "And fourth word 'The'. So 'The Blank-Blank The Blank'?"

He nodded at you, a light shining in both your eyes as he kept on, like a couple of kids excited they found someone to play with. But then when Tom went on to sign the second word, for a split second you gave him a look that had everyone in the room that paid even the smallest amount of attention that his affections were definitely not one-sided.

You were well on your way to being completely smitten with him, too.

He held up two fingers before making a lassoing motion and snapping his fingers so loud that the sound made your neck twitch, your eyes glazing over as he pointed to the space in front of him. "Uh…uhm…Capture?" He shook his head, repeating the motion again. "Herding?" He shook his head again. "Collaring--Cowboy?" He let out a laugh before shaking his head again. "Okay I don't think I'm gonna get that, maybe another word we're running out of time."

Tom took a deep breath, as if composing himself before holding up five fingers. And then he drew his hands close to his chest and started making the most ridiculous sound with his head tilted to the ceiling. "Ememememe omomomomo".

That had you bursting into a fit of giggles, making him break out into a face-splitting grin and a few chuckles of his own. "I'm sorry I got absolutely nothing on that, go back to the second word." He went back to the lassoing and snapping movement. "Wait is this for a person or an animal?" He made a motion as if weighing an object in each of his hands, signaling to you that it was both. "Both?! Okay so…domestication?" He shook his head, but motioning for you to keep going down that route. "The--Taming?" Then you gasped, standing up right as two seconds were left on the clock, clapping your hands. "The Taming of the Shrew! The Taming of the Shrew!"

Out of the sheer excitement in the moment, he made his way around the table, grasping for your hands before framing your face in his hands. Had you both lost yourselves in the moment for even a few seconds longer, Chris would have bet good money that you two would have shared a kiss right in front of them.

But then both of you froze in place, giving each other an awkward smile before he stepped back, making his way back to where he stood seconds before. Good thing Chris already had his phone in hand and snapped a photo before your mutual shyness toward each other got the better of you.

"Cute," Taika commented, throwing Tom a look. "Alrighty then Y/N, it's your turn now."

You stood, looking at your scrap of paper and then looking around the room, your eyes landing on the decorative skull flower vase on the dining table.

Before you could signal for Taika to start the clock, Tom spoke up, "Hamlet?"

A choked sound of utter shock slipped out of everyone else in the room. "Hold up, that counts right, T?" Taika just nodded.

"How the fuck--Are you two telepathically connected or something?" Tessa threw the question out, pointing her finger at both of you. "You know what it doesn't matter, the night's still young. We still got a chance to smoke 'em, Hemsworth."

Chris wasn't paying much attention, shooting you a text instead. So you wanna cash in on that free food, Tiny Terror?

He had to fight back the knowing grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth seeing the message you typed back. I could stay a few more rounds.

A/N: I did mention before that I have some pre-relationship chapters planned for these two blorbos, right? 👀 Well if I didn't, I'm saying it now. Chapters. Plural. I honestly don't know how many pieces I have in store for this collection but safe to say it's not ending any time soon. 😳💖

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[bogkeep]

Would you recommend the SSSS comic? I know little of it beside the very beautiful artstyle and premise

to answer the question of if i would recommend SSSS as a comic: yes, yes i would.

a description for those who don't know: Stand Still Stay Silent is a post-apocalyptic horror + adventure webcomic set in the nordics (norway, sweden, denmark, finland, iceland) that have been isolated from the rest of the world and gone back to their old gods. the the world outside of safe zones is full of trolls and beasts - humans and mammals that got infected by a horrible virus and turned into monsters. the story follows a ragtag crew that ventures into the old world (derelict denmark) on an expedition to collect books.

the comic updated every workday until it concluded in 2022, and consists of two Adventures. the creator had plans for many adventures with these characters in this world, but ended it after two when she wanted to take a new direction with her life.

what i love about it:

- the art is GORGEOUS. it's been a huge source of inspiration for me. open any page and it's a masterpiece, and you will ask yourself "how the FUCK did she update this FIVE DAYS A WEEK"

- the characters are wonderful and endearing. i just, i love them so much. i am so thankful lalli hotakainen exists he is one of my #1 blorbos forever

- the world is so cool. the blend of chunky sci-fi and norse mythology fantasy magic slaps. it goes so hard. i fell so hard for this comic when i got to the big ferry ship with a viking style dragon head prow added to it. it's everything

- it really really gets nordic cultures. it's difficult to explain all the dynamics and nuances but it just gets it. it brings me as a scandinavian a lot of joy to read a story that speaks to my heart this way. the attitudes, the language barriers, the cultural differences... it was so refreshing to me in a media landscape dominated by american stories. when the pandemic hit, i decided to reread the comic because i found such an odd comfort in seeing how it depicted the scandinavian countries reacting to, well, a pandemic.

- there's kittycats

what i don't like about it:

- the most glaring and obvious flaw is that everyone in the comic is white. there's not a single character of color anywhere, not even i background shots or the prologue. there's no mention of the saami people (the indigenous people of northern europe), either. i believe this was done in ignorance more than malicious intent, but the implications are Extremely Bad and it's been bothering me (AND MANY OTHERS) since day 1. that is the number one caveat i will give to anyone wanting to check this comic out. i've been in the discourse trenches and i am not going to excuse this. it's just bad!

- you can tell in the middle of adventure 2 that the creator has kind of lost interest in the work, around the time when she found jesus i guess. like, very few people can keep up work on the same creative project for years and years and years and i think it's fine that she wanted to drop it, but it's a bit sad to see the comic dragged to its end like a limp corpse, and feeling like the creator no longer really cares about the characters.

- minna sundberg has said and done some questionable things, presumably gotten somewhat radicalised over time, and has also converted to hardcore christianity which is what her new works are about. there's nothing about this in SSSS - there is a moment of christianity represented in the story in a sort of mythological sense, just like the other religions, but this was written before minna's conversion. her new works... are a Choice. i have much to say about them, and i have, and im not gonna rehash it now.

SO YEAH hopefully this will help you take an Informed Choice! i got into this comic in 2015 and was deep in the fandom and it's for better or for worse part of my soul foundation now.

i also recommend A Redtail's Dream, minna's "practice comic" before SSSS, based on finnish mythology and the kalevala.

[scary-grace]

Off-Script - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Tomura's been Dabi's stunt double for almost a decade, and he's not easily impressed, but when he squares up with you for a fight scene, he finds himself caught off-guard in more ways than one. As the shoot progresses and sparks fly between the two of you, Tomura has to decide if you're worth the risk -- or if the best sparring partner he's ever had is all you'll ever be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

This is my second fic for @threadbaresweater's follower milestone event, with the prompt 'summer blockbuster'! As usual, thank you for running this event and congratulations on the milestone!

Act 1 Act 2

Act 1

“No.”

“No?” Midoriya Izuku repeats. He taps his headset, like there’s something wrong with it instead of what Dabi just said. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t do swordfighting,” Dabi says. “It’s in my contract.”

Midoriya looks baffled, just like every newbie director who’s ever hit their head against one of the batshit provisions in Dabi’s contracts. And Dabi’s not anywhere close to done with kicking the director around. “How come I’ve got a sword, anyway? Quicksilver didn’t have one in any of the other movies. Or the comics.”

In Tomura’s opinion, Dabi should keep his mouth shut about what happens in the X-Men comics. Everything he knows about the comics and the character he plays is something Tomura had to explain to him way too many times, in detail. “We’re rebooting the Apocalypse arc,” Midoriya says. “The premise is that Apocalypse rises in every age – long enough for people to forget about him in between – and the same characters have been fighting him the whole time, reincarnated over and over again. Only this time it’s different, because four of those characters have been chosen as Horsemen, and they’re fighting for Apocalypse, not against him.”

“Great. Why is there a swordfight?”

“In the original arc, technology provided a boost to the anti-Apocalypse forces,” Midoriya says. “By setting it in the Iron Age, we’re taking that advantage away. That’s why everyone has weapons. Including Quicksilver.”

“Cool.” Dabi lights up a cigarette. “I’m still not doing it.”

“But –”

“That’s what I pay him for.” Dabi jerks a thumb at Tomura. “Talk to him.”

Tomura’s been Dabi’s stunt double for basically all of Dabi’s career. Most stunt doubles stick to stunts, but over the years, Tomura’s role has expanded from stunts to include anything Dabi doesn’t feel like doing. Swordfighting isn’t a stunt. It should be well within Dabi’s skills. And it is – he just doesn’t want to do it. Which means that Tomura’s up.

Midoriya looks at Tomura hopefully. Tomura levers himself up off the wall and rolls his shoulders. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

Midoriya follows him to costume and makeup, yapping the whole way, trying to figure out what he did to upset Dabi so much. Tomura thinks about explaining that it’s not Midoriya’s problem and Dabi’s just like that, then decides against it. Midoriya’s the one who decided not to recast Quicksilver, and Dabi isn’t exactly known for being easy to work with. He made his own bed. Tomura’s not here to tuck him in, and he’s not here to make excuses for Dabi. He’s here to do stunts. That’s it.

Quicksilver’s costume isn’t skintight, which makes it miles better than any of the other Quicksilver suits Tomura’s had to wear since Dabi was first cast in the franchise. It’s his first time in the outfit, so he asks the costumer about it. “There was no Lycra in the Iron Age,” Magne explains as she stitches one last panel into place. “The director wanted historically accurate materials. And the SFX team threatened to quit if they had to edit any more bulges out of the shots.”

That’s a relief. Whenever a new movie in the franchise comes out, the fan blogs make lists ranking all the bulges, which is awkward at best and career-threatening at worst, given the one time a list used a shot where Tomura was doubling Dabi and ranked it higher than Dabi had ever placed on his own. Midoriya is deeply weird, even as far as directors go, but Tomura will take the wins where he can get them.

He tunes back in to what Midoriya’s saying as Magne screws around with his hair to mimic Quicksilver’s signature look. “Who am I fighting again?”

“Psylocke. You read the script, right?”

Sure, Tomura read the script. The script isn’t the problem so much as the fact that the actress playing Psylocke quit last week. “Did you find a new one?”

“Of course!” Midoriya brightens up creepily fast. “Right, you should meet her! She’s – um –”

“Up at the site already,” Magne says, spraying Tomura with hairspray without warning him first. “She was pretty quick to costume. I didn’t even have to put her in a wig.”

Midoriya beams. “She’s great,” he says. “We’re lucky we found her on such short notice.”

“Who is she?”

Midoriya says a name Tomura’s never heard in his life. Magne hasn’t heard it, either. “Come again?”

“She’s on the newer side,” Midoriya says. His smile’s looking a little insane. “Are you ready yet?”

“Just a sec.” Magne sprays Tomura again, then attaches three motion-capture dots to his forehead. “There we go. All set.”

Tomura stands up, but he doesn’t get clear fast enough to avoid Magne’s customary ass-slap. “Break a leg,” she says.

“Thanks.” Tomura slinks out of the costume tent, already in a mood.

They drive to the site in one of the various beat-to-shit Jeeps Midoriya inherited from the person who directed the last X-Men movie. Midoriya drives, which is bad all on its own, but halfway there, Tomura realizes there’s someone missing. “Don’t we need Aizawa on this?”

“Aizawa’s choreographing the first big fight scene. Most of the actors haven’t done real swordfighting before, so it’s taking a while.” Midoriya’s grip on the steering wheel goes white-knuckled in a way that makes Tomura wonder if he should be bailing out of the car. He’s pretty sure he can do it without getting a single bruise. “Even if it’s just for a few tracking shots before we cut away to you – sorry, Dabi – chasing Psylocke, it needs to look good.”

That’s fair. Tomura hates a lazy background shot, on the rare occasions when he watches a movie. Midoriya glances at him. “I know you said you read the script, but – give me your take on what’s going on in the scene.”

Tomura’s heard Midoriya ask people that before. Correction: He’s heard him ask actors before. “I’m not an actor.”

“There’s not a ton of dialogue in this scene. The physical aspect has to tell the story,” Midoriya says. “So?”

He’s not going to let this go. Tomura decides to get it over with. “During the main fight, Psylocke lifts the artifact everybody’s fighting over and runs. Quicksilver goes to catch her, but she uses her mutation to slow down time around him, which puts him on the same playing field as she is. They fight, he pulls her mask off, and figures out she used to be on his side. Then she cheap-shots him and escapes with half the artifact. Did I get it?”

Midoriya nods, but he’s frowning. “Quicksilver and Psylocke are foil characters in this interpretation of the story. He’s Magneto’s son and she’s part of a family of heroes. When they recognize each other, it should be a shock – they’re not just seeing a friend who’s now an enemy, they’re each seeing the person they should have been. So the back half of the fight should, like, reflect that.”

Tomura doesn’t do emotional turmoil. “You want Dabi for this.”

“That was the plan,” Midoriya says. He sighs. “Just – do your best, okay?”

Tomura was doing high-wire stunts while Midoriya was still in high school. He doesn’t need hyping up for a swordfight he can do in his sleep. But just because he can do it in his sleep doesn’t mean the actress Midoriya pulled out of a cattle call will be any good at it. “Does Psylocke 2.0 know what she’s doing?”

“That’s why I picked her.”

Huh. Tomura crosses his arms over his chest and slouches in his seat for the remainder of the ride.

The site is up on a bluff, in a stretch of forest thick enough that barely any sunlight gets through. “This is supposed to be a nighttime scene, but thanks to the tree cover we can fake it,” Midoriya explains as he parks the Jeep and scrambles out. “Hey, guys! Over here!”

The crew looks like they’ve been waiting a while. Tomura knows most of them after spending the last seven years on the sets of various X-Men movies and hanging out at C-list afterparties. Of the group, he really only gets along with Spinner, who handles props. Everybody else is just someone else to be irritated with when they inevitably start bossing Tomura around. He props his feet on the dashboard and waits for something to happen.

“Psylocke! Quicksilver! Over here!”

Midoriya’s beckoning to him. Tomura forgot about Midoriya’s habit of using character names during shoots, and he thought Dabi was just using it as something to bitch about until right now. It’s annoying as hell. Tomura gets out of the car and skulks over, but someone else gets there first. Midoriya’s talking to her as Tomura approaches. “I know the script says you’re shooting with Dabi, but he, um, doesn’t do swordfights, so he sent his stunt double instead.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not you,” Midoriya says hurriedly. “He’s just having an off day.”

“An off year,” Tomura corrects. Midoriya jumps, steps aside, and gives Tomura his first look at you.

He sees right away what Magne meant about your hair – you match Psylocke’s design from the comments in length and color, even if the texture’s wrong. You’re a little shorter than the original actress, and you don’t look like an actress, even though the makeup artists already got to you. Actresses in big-budget films look a lot like each other, because they’re all wearing the same makeup and getting the same plastic surgeries, and they’re all the same kind of hot. You look way too much like a person. Like you should be behind the camera, not in front of it.

As Tomura sizes you up, he’s well aware that you’re doing the same thing to him, probably having the same thoughts. But you smile and hold out your hand to shake. “Hi. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Tomura shakes your hand for lack of anything better to do. “Go see Spinner for props,” Midoriya instructs, “and think about how you want to do this. Maybe get in character also? I’m not sure how many takes we’ll get before the light changes.”

“Got it,” you say. “Spinner is –”

“The guy with the swords,” Tomura says. It’s hard not to roll his eyes, and it gets harder when you fall into step beside him. Spinner is waiting for you both behind the props table. “Hey.”

“I was expecting Dabi,” Spinner says, picking up a sword. When Tomura reaches for it, Spinner chucks it to one side and lifts another. “I was gonna give him that one, but you’re better than he is, so I can trust you with this.”

Instead of the kodachi, he’s holding out a tachi to Tomura. “See how you like the balance on that. And for you, Psylocke – one katana, coming right up.”

Tomura keeps one eye on you and your sword while he’s testing the balance on his. You’re not being stupid with it, at least not yet. Holding it properly is the lowest possible bar, but Tomura’s met plenty of actors who can’t even manage that, and at least your grip looks solid. You walk a few steps away to practice sheathing and unsheathing it, and Spinner elbows Tomura. He nods in your direction. “What do you think?”

“What rock did Midoriya find her under?”

“I think she’s a stage actor,” Spinners says. Great. “Mainly musicals. She’s never gotten cast as anything bigger than an understudy.”

Tomura would facepalm, except he’s holding a sword. “Still,” Spinner says speculatively, “the director’s not a total moron. He must have seen something he likes.”

“Yeah. He likes not having to blow the costume budget on a wig,” Tomura says, probably a little too loudly. He sees your shoulders stiffen, and you turn to face him. You don’t look like you’re going to cry or anything, but Tomura’s been wrong about that before. “What?”

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to practice, or if we’re doing it blind,” you say. Before Tomura can answer, you make the decision. “I say blind. It’ll look more authentic if we’ve never fought each other before.”

Tomura likes that idea, if only because the chaos will mask his total lack of acting skills, but he was counting on a practice round to test your actual abilities. Still, it’s your funeral. “Fine by me. I’m not going to go easy on you or anything.”

“I’m glad,” you say, and smile. Tomura already saw you smile once, but it was nowhere close to being this spooky. You have to be doing it on purpose. “I wasn’t planning to go easy on you, either.”

Tomura should say something – maybe along the lines of ‘we just got off on the wrong foot, don’t cut my fucking head off’ – but before he can, Midoriya orders everyone to places. He must have given you instructions ahead of time, because you vanish into the trees, leaving Tomura to follow Midoriya’s hyperspecific directions for hitting his first mark. “We’re just going to roll,” he says, as Tomura steps out of frame and braces himself to run. “I’ll call cut once things go sideways.”

Things go sideways in choreographed fight scenes all the time. Things going sideways in an improvised fight is a guarantee. “Right.”

“Psylocke, are you set?”

“Set,” you call out from somewhere.

Midoriya takes a deep breath, like he’s the one who’s about to start a fake fight. “Okay. Action!”

Fake-running and skidding to a stop isn’t Tomura’s specialty or anything, but he can make it work. He hits the mark Midoriya specified, raises his hand to the hilt of his sword without drawing it, and takes a look around. Right here and now, there’s no reason for Quicksilver to think that someone’s about to attack him. Even Psylocke using her powers to slow him down could just be a tactic to ensure her escape. She’s basically already escaped. All Quicksilver has to do is wait for her grip on time to slacken, and then –

A twig snaps behind Tomura and he throws himself forward into a roll, pivoting as he gets to his knees and drawing his sword in the same moment. You put a lot of strength and a lot of momentum into your first strike, and if this was a real fight, Tomura would be injured or dead. As it is, you checked yourself at the last second, and you take your time settling into your next attack, giving Tomura just a second or two to plan out his own.

No attack yet. His wingspan is wider than yours and the blade of his sword is longer, which means the first step for Quicksilver to avoid a katana through the neck is to get out of Psylocke’s range. You’re not screwing around, so Tomura won’t, either – he picks up a handful of leaf litter, throws it into your face, and gets to a safe distance, remembering at the last second to make it look even sort of stylized. It’s a movie, after all.

You’re taking it seriously. The suddenness of your first attack has Tomura on edge, and the lack of any direction or choreography means he’s got no idea what you’re going to do. They won’t be in the back half of the fight until he pulls your mask down, and haphazard grabs look stupid on camera. He needs to get your mask on the first try, and between now and then, he needs to put on a show.

Tomura strikes at you, and you duck, pivot, halfway inside his guard before he can reverse the strike. But you’re in too close to use your katana effectively – on purpose – and Tomura aims a punch at your torso, hoping you know how to fake a hit. You do. You exhale sharply, jerk backwards, and Tomura separates from you again.

Who the hell are you? Where did you come from? Why are you going this hard? It occurs to Tomura as he parries your counterstrike and returns a few of his own that these are the same thoughts Quicksilver would be having if any of this was real. Now that Tomura’s introduced hand-to-hand combat into the equation, you start using it, too, throwing a high kick that brushes ever so slightly against Tomura’s jaw. Tomura snaps his head sideways to make it look good, then lurches backwards in response to a fake punch to the solar plexus. He’s holding his own, and he’s in control of the fight, but to the camera and everybody else it’s going to look like Psylocke is handing Quicksilver his ass.

And you should be. Tomura underestimated you, then insulted you, and now you’re making him pay. But as interesting as the fight’s getting, it’s a movie, not a grudge match. Tomura shortens his attacks and you step in closer, close enough for him to grab your mask. Or it would be, if your face was where it’s supposed to be. Instead you’ve gotten all the way inside Tomura’s guard, stepped across him, and grabbed his shoulder with your free hand – and now you’re throwing him over your hip to the ground.

You’ve got the physical strength to pull it off – Tomura can feel it – but he gives you some help anyway, making the resulting fall look even harder than it’s supposed to. He lands flat on his back with you poised above him, pinning him down with your katana at the ready. Now would be a great time to grab the artifact, since it’s hanging on a loop around your neck, but Tomura’s got his orders, as stupid as they are. He reaches up, seizes the mask over your mouth and nose, and pulls it down.

You really can act. Tomura watches your expression shift from startled to shocked to something else, and you recoil backwards away from him. Tomura’s slow to rise, because Quicksilver’s supposed to be shocked, too. Dabi’s going to have to deal with whatever character choices Tomura’s making here, and he’s going to be pissed. Tomura doesn’t care. If Dabi wanted to have a say over what this fight looks like, he should have done it himself.

You’re pulling your mask over your face, pressing it down. You’re so busy with it that Tomura almost gets away clean with grabbing the artifact from around your neck. You catch him at the last minute and pull it back, and it splits cleanly between his hand and yours. You take one artfully reckless swing with your katana and Tomura ducks back just a little farther than he needs to. Which is when you turn and run, booking it out of frame and towards the far edge of the woods.

Some camera guy – Iida, Tomura thinks – chases after you. Tomura’s off the hook, but he holds still anyway. He’s gotten yelled at more than a few times for moving before the director’s officially called cut. But Midoriya isn’t calling cut. He keeps not calling it. Tomura can hear him, though. He’s muttering to himself.

“Hey, boss-man!” hollers the unit director – Togata, or something. “Want to call a cut?”

“Oh, oops! Cut! Definitely cut.” Midoriya sounds like he couldn’t give less of a shit. When Tomura turns to look at him, he’s got a notebook and he’s writing furiously. And mumbling again. Tomura’s worked with a lot of directors and more than a few weird ones, and once he rules out the hand fetishist and the guy who wanted the fight scenes to include real knives and real blood, Midoriya’s definitely the weirdest.

You come back from wherever you ran off to, and you don’t seem to think Midoriya’s as weird as everyone else does. “Are we waiting for notes?”

“Huh?”

“After we run a scene in a stage show, we get notes,” you say. You’re not quite breathing hard. Neither is Tomura. “Do you not do that around here?”

“Nah,” Togata or whoever says. “Usually the director just hollers at whoever screws up and makes everybody do another take.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Who screwed up? Was it me?”

“You certainly took some liberties with the scene,” Iida says. “The original intent –”

“You want original intent, don’t tell us to improv,” Tomura says. The fight with you was maybe the most intense fight scene he’s ever done. When Midoriya inevitably nixes it, Tomura wants a copy. He addresses you. “It wasn’t you. Somebody on the sound side probably fucked up.”

“Excuse me?” The sound tech – maybe Jiro? – looks like she wants to club Tomura to death with a boom mic. “I fucked up? If you two hadn’t gotten all –”

“Midoriya,” Togata sings out, patting Midoriya on the shoulder. Midoriya jumps. “Hey! Good to have you back! Should we get set for another take?”

“No.”

Mirio looks confused. He’s not the only one. “Are we taking this one back to the drawing board?”

“No.” Midoriya shuts his notebook and looks up, his eyes shining in the crazy way movie people get when they have a really wild idea. “That was the take. We’re done.”

“What?”

“That was it.” Midoriya’s grinning. “It was perfect.”

Now you look weirded out. Finally. “No notes?”

“We need some close-ups, but –” Midoriya grabs his radio and hollers for somebody to put Dabi in his costume “ – you guys did a great job. Like, even the timing – it’s going to be so easy to use those beats for close-ups, and all the character stuff – you were so in sync it was scary, but emotionally you were each totally on your own journey, and it looked –”

“Hey, take a breath. Don’t faint,” Jiro instructs. Midoriya sucks down some air, and Jiro turns to you. “You did your first fight scene in one take. Congrats.”

Spinner lifts the sword out of Tomura’s hand, then takes the two halves of the artifact from both of you. Tomura’s done here for now. He’ll hitch a ride back on the Jeep that brings Dabi up and find a place to nap. Hopefully. He feels a little too keyed up to take a break right now.

You’re still standing there, looking sort of dazed. It annoys Tomura for a second, until he remembers that you’re used to understudying in musicals, not shooting superhero movies. “Hey,” he says, and you startle. “That was a solid fight. You’re better than I thought.”

“That’s not hard,” you say. “All I had to do to be better than you thought I’d be was to not impale myself or anybody else.”

“I haven’t seen you work before today. Sue me,” Tomura says. “You know what you’re doing. That was a really good fight.”

You shrug. It pisses Tomura off. Fishing for compliments always does, and Tomura hates it – but instead of telling you to grow up, he tries to hit you over the head with it for real. “You might not know your head from your ass yet, but I do, and it was a good scene. I haven’t had a fight like that in –”

Years? A decade? Tomura doesn’t think he’s ever been in a fake fight that felt real without actually feeling unsafe. “That’s the best one I’ve done in a long time,” he says finally. “You’re a real actress now. That modesty shit isn’t cute.”

You shrug again and make your way over to where Midoriya and Iida are talking. You’re probably going to ask Midoriya if you did something wrong, and he’ll get weird and reshoot the whole thing. Or he won’t, and he’ll think you’re insecure, which drives most directors up the wall. The fight scene was good on the first take. That never happens. Excuse Tomura for wanting to enjoy it.

“Shigaraki,” Spinner says from behind Tomura, and Tomura looks at him. “That’s not how you talk to girls.”

“Huh?”

“You, like – negged her. A lot,” Spinner says. Bullshit. Tomura knows what negging is. He knows he wasn’t doing it. “You told her she sucks, and then you told her she doesn’t suck as much as you thought she did. And then you trashed her whole career before now –”

“When did I do that?” Tomura’s done with this. “I said she knew what she was doing.”

“Uh, yeah. She took you to the cleaners on camera,” Spinner says. “And I hate to be the one to say this, but you looked really into it.”

What does he mean, into it? Tomura was doing his job. If he doesn’t get into it, he has to do extra takes. “So, like I said,” Spinner continues, “if you want to talk to girls and have it go anywhere, you have to give actual compliments. Not just tell her you’re surprised she wasn’t worse.”

“That’s not what I said,” Tomura growls. He doesn’t like anything about this conversation – not what Spinner’s implying, not what Spinner’s telling him to do. “Since when do you give me advice about girls?”

“Since I’ve gone on a date in the last six months,” Spinner says without blinking. “When was the last time you went out?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Dabi spent the last six months in rehab. You could have gotten out there,” Spinner says. Tomura glares at him. “All you did was work out and play League.”

“That’s what I was busy doing,” Tomura says. “I don’t need lessons on talking to girls.”

“Sure,” Spinner says. “Give her a real compliment next time. It’ll help.”

It’ll help with what? Tomura doesn’t know what Spinner thought he saw, but whatever it is, it wasn’t there. Tomura doesn’t date actresses. Or actors, in spite of what a bunch of Dabi’s fans seem to think is going on between the two of them. And even if Tomura was going to date an actress, he wouldn’t date somebody like you – somebody new to all of this, somebody naïve, somebody whose confidence can barely survive a single hit. Maybe you’ll be the kind of actress Tomura would date if you make it through this shoot alive. The fact that no actress would ever date Tomura doesn’t matter at all.

Even if this is the only blockbuster you ever do, he’ll get to fight you at least one more time. There’s another fight scene between Quicksilver and Psylocke later on in the script. As Tomura leans against a tree waiting for his ride to show up while you talk way too earnestly to Midoriya, he finds that he’s already looking forward to it.

[orbitariums]

christopher moltisanti x black! reader (snippet) as promised literally LAST YEAR... i know my people are still waiting on it i'm so sorry for leaving yall hanging, gays can u ever forgive me?

this is a SNIPPET of the shit i literally started last week... there's room for improvement and hopefully this will force me to finish this. also if any of y'all are also into challengers, i've got some patrick zweig and art donaldson (x black reader) fic posted and more incoming ehehehe.

anyway. set in like s3/s4, when christopher was working in an office (completely blanking on when that actually was but you'll have to forgive me i literally started this last summer (and still haven't finished the sopranos because i am notoriously slow at finishing tv shows))

cappuccino w/ extra cream | christopher moltisanti x black!reader

contains: smut, mentions of racial tension, christopher is NOT an abusive racist in this sopranosverse <3

You and Christopher Moltisanti were not a predictable match. It was only by chance that you met, while he was ordering lunch at the bodega you worked at after he had scored a hit in your neighborhood. He knew better than to come back, especially just for you, but he did. Over and over he came in, ordering a turkey and cheese on a roll with extra relish, shoving an inappropriately large tip in the tip jar just for you— just enough times until you caved in and let him take you out to dinner.

Of course, your family had a fit, and you didn’t even want to think about what Christopher went through with his crew when it came time to finally tell them about his forbidden love life. But all of the ruckus had died down, and now between the two of your crews was this unspoken, stifled agreement that they would let this union exist in peace. It was the 90s for god’s sake, and Christopher was a stubborn mule. 

Once he knew what he wanted, there was no backing down, even if it made him look like an idiot to those whom he served. And by god, did he want you. He was obsessed with you. Always wining and dining you, showing you off without shame. Of course, you two had been through your ups and downs, but Christopher treated you right. You were probably the first woman he’d treated right, the first he cared for unconditionally. No pains in sight except those he took to spoil you and cherish you beyond the diamonds and Versace pumps he gifted you. Even Paulie could respect it, along with the rest. It’s partially why they left it alone, and even smiled and shook your hand when you showed up on his arm. He thought about you every waking moment, he was positively lovestruck. 

It was a slow day at the office. Already Christopher had to reprimand Thing One and Thing Two for trying to intimidate the new guy. He was secluded now in his office, scrolling aimlessly on his chunky desktop computer when he heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, baby!” came your voice, tinkling like bells in his ear and positively soaring through the room from the other side of the door. 

Christopher stood up, standing straight as if he’d just downed a shot of espresso, and he had to physically resist flinging himself at the door for the sake of the guys outside who were watching him. He opened it, first looking past you and glaring at the guys who had frozen on their phones and computers, gaping at the sight of you being let into Christopher’s office. Like they’d never seen anybody before. 

“What are you jerkoffs looking at?” Christopher barked. “Get back to work!”

Immediately resumed the punching sounds of typing and the drawls of the sleazy salesmen on the phone with their poor customers. As if it were nothing, Christopher retreated back, facing you with a broad, charming smile.

“YN, baby… what are you doin’ here?” he asked, that dopey lover boy tinkle sneaking into his voice, which always did anytime he talked to you. He sounded like a completely different person— like the Chris he might have been if he weren’t born into the family he was born into. He took your arms into his hands, caressing them gently, softly smiling. “Here, come in.”

He opened the door wide enough for you to come in, glared at everyone once again when you walked past, and then closed it, clicking the door locked. Not that anyone would try to come in unannounced anyway.   

“Wanted to see you, that’s all,” you smiled, plush lips pressed against one another. “Got off work early, got you a capp and chocolate biscotti. Extra creamy, just how you like it.”

You sat down at the chair opposite his desk, setting down two coffee cups and a crinkly paper bag. Christopher felt like he was dreaming. His discontent seemed to fade away now that you were here— bright colors replaced the dull dram palette of his lonely office and he only had eyes for you. The smell of creamy espresso wafted towards him, mingling with the praline swirls of perfume that glided off of your pressure points. He was in Heaven— he was sure of it. All of his senses were overwhelmed by beauty when he was around you. 

“My girl. Always so sweet,” Christopher picked up a cup and sat down in his desk chair across from you. He pried open the lid and took a deep sniff, all the while maintaining the most tantalizing eye contact with you, both of you staring at each other with smirking smiles painted on your lips. 

“Go on, drink it,” you prompted him, unable to hide the smile from your voice. 

“What, I can’t look at you instead?” Christopher crooned back. “C’mere. Come, sit on my lap. Sitting across from me, what are you, a client?”

You shook your head, laughing at Christopher’s incessant demands to always be close to you, always be looking at you. He was always touchy-feely and lovey-dovey. His affinity for physical touch lurked not so far beyond the cold mobster exterior. You got up anyway, slinked over to him, and sat. One leg crossed over the other, the skin of one thigh sinking into the other. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his chin into your shoulder, gazing up at you. 

“Your hair looks nice,” Christopher commented, gently grabbing a handful of your fresh auburn-colored braids and stroking his hand through the gaps.

“Oh, thank you,” you snaked a hand through your hair, tilting your head so you could see Christopher better. 

“You go to that salon? Put it on my card?”

“Of course, baby. Thank you,” you smiled coyly, kissing his cheek with a loud smack.

“You just tell me anytime you need to get your hair done. With you, it’s every two weeks, but I can’t complain.”

You snickered,

“Yeah, until I make you sit there and wait for me for six hours to get some braids.”

“I dunno how you do it. You’ve got patience like nobody else,” Christopher replied, pushing some of your braids to the other side.

“We have patience like no other.”

Christopher looked down at your skirt— a tight pencil skirt that matched the brown hues of your skin and hugged your curves nicely. You matched it with a blazer and a white blouse. You looked so sexy and professional, and elegant.

“And this skirt,” Christopher continued, layering on the compliments with a renewed curiosity, the kind of curiosity that wanted to know what was under the skirt. His hands, rough and large, found their way onto your lap and your thigh. His hands, marred and toughened from his profession, felt nothing like your buttery smooth skin, but still, you found yourself melting into his touch. Your wispy lashes brushed against your cheek as your eyes fluttered slightly closed. 

“Burberry. You like it?” you bit down on your lip, giving him doe eyes as you craned your neck to coo at him. 

A deep smirk set on Christopher’s lips and his thick brows rose slightly. His hands left your body for only a moment to raise up in the air as if considering the question, then they were right back where they belonged, 

“Do I like it? I wanna fuck you with it on.”

Your mouth dropped.

“Christopher!” you enunciated each syllable, glaring back at him with twinkling, faux scandalized wide eyes. 

“What? I can’t be honest anymore?” Christopher asked, his words beginning to sound muffled as he pressed his lips against your neck ever-so-gently, but enough so that you could feel it. “I’m Catholic. Lying is a sin.”

“What’re you doing, Chris?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes amusedly. You wouldn’t keep up this facade for long, but he would play along and break down your walls. 

“You smell so fucking good,” Christopher practically inhaled your scent, his big nose pressed against the nape of your neck. “You got more of this stuff?”

You frowned slightly, remembering that you were savoring the last of it,

“I’m almost out.”

“I’ll get you more,” Christopher replied immediately. “Make that your signature scent.”

You chuckled at Christopher’s insistence, his matter-of-fact way of speaking about certain things. Not controlling, but honest about what he wanted. 

“Okay, I will,” you grinned. 

Christopher pushed away your braids so that one side of your neck was completely bare for him to continue peppering kisses upon. It was clear to you that he wanted more than just this, as sweet as it was. And you wanted it too, but not without teasing him first. 

“I want you right now,” Christopher said, a certain desperation tinged in his voice that only you could provoke. He knew he’d have you, and could have you… but still, every time, he seemed to rescind into this character of the enthralled lover boy who didn’t quite have the girl. Like he was still ordering sandwiches from the other side of the counter and telling you to keep the change. 

“Christopher! You’re at work. What if someone hears?”

Christopher snorted through his nose, 

“I don’t give a fuck. ‘Sides, only thing those jerkoffs can hear is the sound of their own 

mouth-breathing.”

You giggled, but half-heartedly, trying to catch your breath. Christopher wasn’t the only one who was defenseless in this relationship. You wouldn’t be able to guess it right away, but he had you wrapped around his finger too, right along with his Cuban ring. Everything he did positively enraptured you, even if it made him dangerous. But when you were with him, everything was swathed in the softest fabrics, and the air smelled of fresh linen and fields of flowers. None of the blood and tears that his work consisted of. 

You crumpled under his touch, easily. He knew you, mind, soul, and more presently, body. The room was silent, bar for the slightest sounds of lips against your neck and fabric swishing against itself as he eased his hand further up your thigh, pushing underneath your skirt. By now his kisses against your neck had you tilting your head back in pleasure, your lips slightly parted. You could feel the outline of his cock against your ass and wanted nothing more than to get closer. Each time you saw each other it was like you hadn’t seen each other in years, would never see each other again. The passion never dissipated. 

His hand crept further and further until it reached the side of your panties, lifting the elastic band and then letting it slap against your skin. His kisses against your neck grew deeper and traveled up to your chin, his other hand wrapped around your waist tightly. You gasped slightly at Chris’ suggestive touch.

“Christopher…” you whispered, your voice reduced to a weak shiver, lids becoming heavy. 

“What?” he responded, his breath heavy. 

“Please, I need you to touch me.”

“Where?” Christopher asked, fighting the smile that was pulling at his lips. 

“Here!” you exclaimed with desperation, grabbing his hand and pressing it against the center of your panties where there was a wet mark. 

“Oh, there,” Christopher replied, fingers pressing into you over the delicate fabric. 

“Yes, please,” you whimpered, your whole body beginning to tense up as if preparing for sweet impact. 

You were relieved when you felt him push your panties to the side and you could finally feel his fingers against your flesh, prodding at your folds as if collecting your wetness along his fingertips. 

“You’re always so wet,” he shuddered, wasting no time and pushing a thick finger into your hole, making you nearly jump out of your seat on his lap. Instead, though, you simply arched your hips up against his finger, letting out a deep exhale. “And so warm.”

“Oh!” you yelped out in pleasant shock when Christopher added another finger, fully stretching you out now and sending a buzzing vibration up your spine. 

“Thought you didn’t want anybody to hear us?” Christopher taunted you, lips hot against your ear. 

“Ugh,” you moaned, rolling your eyes. “Just—please.”

“Please what?” Christopher asked, all while quickening the pace of his fingers inside you, switching from slow, scissoring motions to a fast slam that caused you to collapse against his chest, your legs pried open. Christopher moaned to himself at the feeling of your wet slick against his fingers, the way he could feel you getting wetter as he pushed his fingers in and out of your hot entrance. 

“Please fuck me,” you whined, your voice taking on an entirely new high pitch as you jolted into the pleasure and the change of pace. 

“‘M gonna fuck you, don’t you worry your pretty little head,” Christopher kept pushing his learned fingers into you, hitting your g-spot with ease. “Gonna make you take my cock.”

“M-mhm,” you gasped out. Chris wanted to see this through, but the way he was straining against his pants was killing him. It was painful not to be able to be inside of you. 

“Fuck, I’m taking this off,” he announced, and you both fumbled together to unzip your skirt and toss it onto the floor. His pants and boxers came next, along with your panties. All thrown carelessly around the room. Then he lifted you and turned you around so you were facing him, straddling him on his desk chair. You were already desperately grinding against the base of his cock, your arousal trailing up his shaft. 

“You’re such a fucking slut,” Christopher’s voice seemed to grind into a growl as he watched you roll your hips desperately against his cock. 

“Please,” you pouted, his words passing through you like a gust of wind— you hardly registered them. You were too busy grabbing at his cock and trying to 

“Why’d you really come here, huh? To get fucked?”

You hated and loved how easy it was for him to turn you into putty. 

more soon i promithhh <3 keep me on my toes yall

[connorsnothereeither]

So like, a while ago I did a little update on the Brink fics, and I figured it was worth giving a kinda sad update on my other Fable fics as well.

At this stage, there are no plans to continue or finish Your Skin Beneath My Teeth (the second book in the Blood series).

I know this is probably disappointing, because I know a lot of people really loved the Vampire AU. But from a personal writing level, I’m just sort of unhappy with the direction of the books, and I don’t have the time to commit to rewriting them. I’m not invested enough in my own story, and while that’s a shame, I don’t know if there’s much I can do without just giving myself time to stew on it.

There’s also a logistical side to things as well. Fable is coming to an end in less than a month. I feel like it’ll probably take me months to finish the Brink series still first, which are the fics I’m personally more passionate about. And at a certain point, I don’t want Fable to be the only thing that consumes my writing for the next year+. Not to mention the time I want to dedicate to other SMPs and creative projects I’m involved in, like Cantripped, Bound SMP, and Terramortis, with even more stuff in the works.

On top of all that like… I’m just a guy, ya know. I’m a full time student, work part-time most days of the week, commute between 2 major cities regularly, and I have other things that just deserve my time more.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been in fandoms for years, I know it’s shitty when fics you enjoy never get an ending. But I hope that like, people get where I’m coming from with discontinuing it, I guess.

Besides, there is, technically, an ending for Blood. I’ve had the ending written since the end of the first book (it’s just getting there that’s the problem) and so if people would like, as some sort of closure for the story, I would be happy to release that here on Tumblr or on my Kofi or something. Maybe I’ll make a follow up post with a poll.

I might as well mention that there is likewise no plan to “finish” the Band AU, but since that was always a collection of one-shots, there was never really a plan or end for any of it. It was always kinda disjointed without an end in sight lol.

I’m not saying that I’m NEVER going to go back to these fics. Just that it’s unlikely. But who knows, maybe someday I’ll crawl out of the dirt to finish them-

If you did only follow my Fable fics for the Blood books though, I’m sure some elements of my other fan works might appeal to you, if you want to give them a go! The horror/contemplations of humanity are the key theme of Brink, and the mystery/thriller, high stakes political conflict mixed with interpersonal melodrama is the focus of Cascading Skies, my new Bound fic. And of course those and so many more things are just key elements to like all of my storytelling my canon characters lol. But if none of that ticks your boxes, it was great to have y’all along for the bloody vampire ride :D

Anyway this was me getting sappy about setting aside a project I worked really hard on lol. Sometimes you gotta do that and sometimes that’s okay, and that’s an attitude I struggle with but am getting better at. I know don’t owe y’all any kind of explanation for this, I could have just stopped and let it die, but I wanted to give one. More for me personally really; I needed to say something about it publicly to like… fully cement in my mind what I decided on a long time ago. Anyway, catch y’all later when I’m not incredibly tired, and hopefully with a more silly goofy post ✌️

[farfaras]

I think I got an ex but I forgot him.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3 (this is it.) AO3 link.

–

Their plan changed. Them planing to come out changed things, mostly the storyline they were going for. Jonathan realizing he was lonely and didn’t actually love Steve as a way to end the relationship seemed too gut wrenching for a baby gay to witness. So that was out.

The timing of them getting together would stay the same. But instead of those elaborate phases they planned, they would just take it one day at a time. Like normal couples would. When they decide to break up, they would just say they realized they work better as friends. Simple, easy.

Today was probably the hardest part of the plan. Coming out to everyone. Dustin actually convinced them, made them believe that the whole crew would be supportive. If anything went sideways Steve was definitely putting this on him.

They had get togethers almost weekly now. It was a comfort thing. Most of the time the brats used these gatherings to play their nerd game. The rest of them just hanging out. Steve only wished Mike took better care of his basement.

The party and Eddie were playing their game on the table. Steve made sure he sat down close to Jonathan, Robin on his other side. Eleven and Max were reading some comics in the corner, on a beanbag. They looked comfortable.

Steve was anxious. He didn’t know how Jonathan could take this level of anticipation and anxiousness. He was fidgeting almost violently, so Jonathan took his hand in his. Robin, who was in the middle of a rant, faltered for a second before going back to talking. Both Steve and Jon’s attention on her. Even though she was still talking, she looked Steve in the eyes and raised a single brow. He knew what she was asking. He hopefully telepathically sent the right message.

When the party announced that they finished their session for today, Mike rushed to get some drinks. Jonathan dropped his hand and resumed his previous position. Steve caught Will and Eddie curiously eyeing the movement, while Dustin was downright staring and not so subtlely hiding his grin.

Everyone was chatting amongst themselves, when Mike returned Jonathan cleared his throat. “Uh, guys?” His voice was slightly louder than it normally was. Also firm. “We have some news.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Who’s we?”

Steve spoke up. “Me and Jonathan.”

“Unexpected but welcomed duo, huh.” Robin tried to lighten the mood. It was like every time someone heard the word news they assumed the worst. Steve gave her a grateful glance.

“It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.” Steve reassured them. They seemed to relax at that, nodding and giving them their full attention. Jesus, their faces were earnest and curious. Steve didn’t know if he was gonna survive this. He turned to Jonathan. “Should you tell them or do you want me to do it?”

Jon gave him a small and teasing smile. “I’ll tell them. You got the worst of it already.”

“Hey! What the fuck? I thought we were cool, Jonathan.” Dustin protested when he heard Jon. And that reaction just proved his point.

Jon just stared blankly at him. “Someone just spit it out already.” Mike said, rolling his eyes like the impatient little shit he was.

“You just don’t know how to wait, huh.” Lucas shot back.

“Shut up.”

“Grow up, Mike.”

“Oh, please…”

Eddie’s voice cut through the argument dryly. “Kids! Please, just stay quiet so they can say what they need to.”

Jonathan muttered a quiet thanks before taking a deep breath, probably mentally preparing himself. “I’m just gonna say it.” He looked around, then directly at Steve, before addressing the whole group again. “Steve and I are dating.”

It was like Steve was able to watch all their reactions in slow motion. He mostly just felt Robin’s, her gasp and the way her neck almost fell off from how fast she turned to them. Eleven just nodded and went back to reading, he supposed they haven’t taught her all about what the world thinks about homosexuality? Max’s was kinda scary, she just smirked as if she was going through all the new material she had to tease Steve in her mind. Mike and Lucas both raised their eyebrows, they were comically up. Will’s eyes sparkled and widened at the revelation, he was surprised too. And Eddie was almost unreadable. His mouth slightly opened and he looked shocked, frozen.

Mike broke the silence. “There’s no way.”

“It’s true!” Dustin looked ready to defend them if anyone had something even remotely weird to say.

“You knew?!” Lucas almost shrieked.

“I did.” Dustin looked so proud.

Steve didn’t want to look at Robin right now, he had absolutely no idea how she might react. Or if she was gonna be mad about not knowing first. He felt a hand in his that wasn’t Jon, so he looked up to find Robin softly looking at him. She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for telling us, both of you.” She directed this to Jonathan, too.

“It’s kinda weird that you both dated the same girl,” Max started. “But I guess you’re cute, or whatever.”

“Cute or whatever.” El repeated. Still not paying much attention to them.

Steve laughed. “Thanks?” “I guess.” Added Jon.

The only ones who haven’t said anything were Will and Eddie. The rest of the room put their eyes on them.

“Oh. Um. Even if it’s kinda unexpected, that’s great.” Will nervously said. He looked around. “Right?” A chorus of yeses and rights filled the room. Steve could breathe easier.

“Yeah, great.” Eddie muttered. “We’re all happy for you guys.” His smile was small, almost subdued.

“Okay, now that that’s over,” Jonathan tried to end this conversation, the kids wouldn’t have that though.

“Wait! I have questions!” Lucas of all people exclaimed. “When was this?”

“Uh– well. We got together a few weeks ago. If that’s what you were asking.” Steve answered.

“When?”

“Like 2 weeks after.” Jon replied. They didn’t need to say after what, it was implied.

They answered all their questions with their planned answers.

Who made the first move? Actually Jonathan because Steve wanted to go at his pace.

How did they get together? Jonathan asked him after they came out to each other.

Were they in love? (This was El) At that, they got caught off guard, they didn’t expect someone to ask that. “We haven’t been together for long, El.” She didn’t seem to understand but left it alone after Max said she’d explain it to her later.

Everyone, like Dustin said, was supportive. Which they were grateful for. And Steve was also super happy for Will and Robin to see that their friends would support them too when they decided to come out.

Steve just didn’t know why Eddie was so quiet all of the sudden. He wasn’t like that, which made Steve worry he was actually not all that okay with this. He didn’t want that to be the case, he didn’t think that was the case. But people could surprise you sometimes.

Steve and Jonathan were holding hands while they answered questions. Whenever Steve chanced a glance at Eddie, he looked like he was staring at their hands but quickly redirected his gaze to something else. Steve felt uneasy.

All too soon it was time to go. Everyone was climbing the stairs, Jon was pulling his hand to get out of the basement. Eddie was still packing some of his stuff. Steve stopped walking. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up with you outside.” He told Jon and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He just nodded and left the basement. Now it was just Steve and Eddie.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“What’s up with you?” Steve hadn’t known Eddie for long. But during these last months they had developed a friendship, so Steve thought he knew Eddie an appropriate amount to know something was off.

Eddie’s eyes were slightly more open than usual. “Nothing’s up. Why do you think that?”

“Well, you were awfully quiet at the end there. Not really like you, is it?” Steve went up to Eddie so now they were standing in front of the other.

“Yeah, I’m just kinda tired you know.” He was looking down at his feet.

“You’re not… uncomfortable, are you?” Steve was scared that he might regret asking that. But the way Eddie wasn’t even looking at him right now, made it hard.

Eddie’s eyes widened and worry splayed over his face. “No!” He loudly said. “Not at all, please don’t think that.” He sighed. “I really am just tired, Steve. I promise.”

Steve nodded, maybe he was being paranoid. “Okay, I just. Well, I was worried for a sec.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie moved his hand, like he was gonna rest it on Steve’s shoulder but then he aborted. Okay, that didn’t really help his case, but Steve wanted to believe him. “I know how I could’ve come across. But I’m happy for you, Steve. Um, both of you. You deserve it.” He smiled and didn’t give Steve time to respond before he bolted.

When Steve stepped outside, Eddie’s van was already gone. Will, Jon and Robin were waiting for him by his car.

“Just ‘cause you’re the boyfriend now doesn’t mean I’ll give you shotgun privileges, Byers. I hope you know that.” Robin deadpanned.

Jon put his arms up, innocently enough. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“Good.” Robin narrowed her eyes at him. “We’ll have to schedule our shovel talk, by the way.”

Will cackled while they all climbed into the car.

The ride was short, or more like it felt short. Steve didn’t even feel like time was passing with his friends making him laugh and happy.

He dropped off Jon and Will first. Jonathan gave him a peck on his cheek as a goodbye before he and Will entered their home.

Robin was awfully quiet when it was just the two of them left. She was unbuckling her seatbelt to get out when she decided to say something. “I could’ve sworn it was gonna take you longer to figure out your sexuality.” She looked at him, fondly. Steve was expecting a lot of things, but not that. “Even if I wasn’t given an exclusive, I’m happy for you, Dingus. Hope he treats you well.” She got out of the car with a salute, the dork.

What did Robin mean by all that?

-

This was like a whole other level of fucked up. The universe really liked to just tell Eddie “fuck you!” whenever it wanted. And this moment felt like it was up there, in the top 5.

It was one thing to have a crush on a straight friend, who was so unattainable that he didn’t even need to worry about ever bringing it up, outside of his mind. Steve was a great friend. Which just made him crush harder. It was so easy to almost, not completely, ignore it. Eddie had it all mapped out, he was gonna pine from afar until Steve got a girlfriend. Then he’d make himself get over him. He knew it wasn’t gonna be easy, but he had to. For his sanity.

Leave it to Jonathan freaking Byers, to throw that down the drain.

Eddie was well aware how bad his reaction was to the whole thing. He didn’t want Steve thinking the worst of him. He tried his best at reassuring him that he was happy for them! Even if he wasn’t at all. But at the end of the day, Eddie figured he’s still a coward. Because he ran so fast at the first opportunity he had to get out of there.

He supposed that now that Steve was taken, he still would have to get over him.

But it was so much worse now.

Steve being straight kinda softened the punch of any unrequited feelings Eddie had. He had to accept the cruel reality of Steve never even being able to return them. And he was sure he could live with that.

What he wasn’t sure he could live with is Steve liking guys, but still not liking him.

He bitterly wondered what could Jonathan possibly have that he didn’t. Which wasn’t fair at all because it wasn’t his fault that Steve would choose to date him instead of Eddie. Eddie even liked Jonathan.

This was gonna be torture. But Eddie knows that he was still gonna suffer through it. There wasn’t anything really, that could keep him away from Steve.

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday/Thursday

I did try and post this on Wednesday (sure late but it’s been awhile 👀) and on this rainy night, my computer decided to it be a a team player. Not cool.

So…writing has been slow and I’m pretty sure I posted stuff on AO3 and not here because half the time Tumblr eats my posts that aren’t reblogs 😭

I blame @megamindsecretlair and @soft-persephone for summoning from my cozy gremlin activities under a bridge and planting this brainworm:

“If you are open to doing so my fair General. I feel a bit fatigued. I will let my attendant know that I am heading inside to rest as my husband and I will travel back to our estate tomorrow.” Her round face stretches with the smile she has upon her face, briefly she touches his hand, her fingertips touching his calloused ones. “He will not return as Gaius does not enjoy my company. Only tolerates it. The last room, third floor on the left.” Her hand leaves his as he attempts to grab it and he turns to watch her step away. “Call me Arcus. See what message I shall impart to you tonight.” His eyes focus on her wide hips that are headed toward the main building where the invites and their wives were staying for the duration of the soiree. Swallowing hard, the General knows he should not follow her. It would be participating in infidelity and despite many offers over the years, Marcus resisted. He nearly always had access to women that were unattached and available. Milling around for ten minutes felt like an eternity, speaking to other officials and so-called important people, yawning and mentioning that he would likely retire to his room soon and would be no good to anyone until the sun rose. Hopefully this would be enough to cement that he should not be disturbed.

Infidelity? Sure! Murder? Very likely. Bad humor somewhere? It’s a Nerdie fic and General Marcus Acacius is not except. Smut? Somewhere in there. 👀 It will happen. I need mental lube, I can’t just dive in there. Gotta give a fic a couple rubs in a circle before the smut. 🤣

Yeah the General is not immune. Pfft.

The second one I was pleasantly surprised to make some headway on, apparently Nerdie is about her historical men and violence. That’s not at all concerning. 🤔

“I agree with the lady Father. She is our responsibility and should remain with us.” Pero steps between her and the Father. He knows men like this priest, who act holier than most but if given the funds, access and anonymity, they would live in a brothel. Father Ignacio takes a step back, the Spaniard is intimidating to say the least and the priest is sure that he has no qualms about spilling blood in a house of God. William is watching the exchange between the three and is trying to think of a compromise, it’s a bad one, but it’s better than being run out of the village for killing this man.

More for my Pero series which is like historical fiction with dragons 🐉 because why not? ☺️ I will have Pero destroying something because he needs to be using those powers and why not? Wanton destruction sometimes, am I right? 🫡

Yup, quit while I’m behind. Anyway, that’s what I got. Weddings 101 with Dieter is still in the works with @angelofsmalldeath-codeine . So are all the other series I’ve got, there’s a lot 🤭

I also might be writing an anime one-shot. First one in years. 😃

People who I’m 75.8% sure tagged me in the last few weeks:

@604to647 @for-a-longlongtime @magpiepills @syd-djarin @djarinmuse

@maggiemayhemnj @sin-djarin @tinytinymenace @lotusbxtch @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@connectioneverywhere @morallyinept @doscharolastras @chaithetics @lady-bess

@secretelephanttattoo @goodwithcheese @missladym1981 @pedroshotwifey @slippinninque

@inept-the-magnificent @avastrasposts @frenchiereading @soft-girl-musings @perotovar

@legendary-pink-dot @fhatbhabiee @yorksgirl

[blackcherryvelvet0909]

Eggcellent Volley (Vargas x GN!Reader)

Content Warning: Characters eating raw eggs (Do NOT do this), vomiting mentioned

Note: Reader is an adult NRC staff member

“Everyone come up and draw a straw.” Vargas’s order boomed with the power of his loud voice. You were sure even non-beastman could hear him from the other side of the beach. “Long straws are the left team, short straws are the right.” 

You watch the group of students present form a haphazard line in front of the bulky man, each hoping they’d be paired up with one student or another. Some silently celebrated with their result, while others were sorely disappointed. Both emotions only grew as each team was slowly formed; by the time the last straw was pulled, they were quite the opposition. Jack Howl, Deuce Spade, Leona Kingscholar (who convinced him to play?), and Kalim Al-Asim were some of those among the right team. Among the left were Rook Hunt, Ace Trappola, Sebek Zigvolt (from what you heard, he agreed to play because Leona insulted Malleus’s honor), and Floyd Leech. Indeed, quite the lineup. Hopefully they could all learn to get along for the sake of the game. 

“Now that you have your teams, I will give you all a few minutes to discuss positions and strategies,” said Vargas. “Remember, sport is about teamwork - you can’t win on your own. Count the strengths and weaknesses among yourselves; collaborate on how to use those talents to balance out the faults.” 

With a wave of his hand, Vargas gave the students the lead to begin their planning. You could already hear arguments begin to start up on who should be team captain - who called the shots. While Leona already took up the lead of his team, mutiny was viable to happen on the left team. Not everyone was too keen for Rook to be captain, despite his status and experience as a third year. Just a minute into the debate and Floyd looked ready to back out. That was to be expected, really. You were making bets with yourself on how long it would take either to fall apart. 

Your gaze focused on Vargas, who was now a few paces away from where you sat on the sand. He sipped from his bulky water bottle, a few droplets dripping down his chin. His Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow, the veins of his neck prominent against his skin. He let out a relieved exhale as he gulped down the last sip, right as he set the water bottle and picked up another. It was slimmer than the other, with a circular opening on the lid instead of a straw. You cringed as he began to gulp down the contents within. You knew what was in there, and you gagged at the very thought of just a drop going into your mouth. 

“How can you stand that?” you asked, clear disgust across your face. 

“Mmn?” Vargas hummed in question. He held up the thermos and shook it slightly. “This?” 

“Aren’t you afraid to contract salmonella or something?” 

“I always buy pasteurized eggs.” 

“Still,” you protested, “they’re raw, Vargas. I know you’re big on building muscle, but…c’mon, there’s better ways. Much more tasty, too.” 

Vargas shrugged as he gulped up yet another ounce of the liquid poultry. “I’ve never minded the taste. They’ve never made me sick, either. And besides,” he flexed those bulbous biceps of his with a grin, “it’s working, isn’t it?” 

Sometimes I’m afraid you’ll pop like a balloon - was what you wanted to say, but decided against it. “I’m just afraid that, one day, you’re going to run out mid-class because you’ve suddenly contracted the shits.” 

“Ah ah ah, [Name],” Vargas tutted with a tease. “Watch that language. You don’t want to be a bad influence on the students.” 

Yes, the students, which a third of cussed up a storm on the regular. Even so, Vargas - for once - had a point. You didn’t give him the credit though. With a roll of your eye, you tore your gaze away from the bottle of nastiness and drank a bit of your water. 

“Alright, are we all set?” Vargas asked as he walked back to the two dysfunctional teams. The volleyball net was like a flimsy fence that might keep them from tearing each other apart…might. When the youngsters let out a collective “yes, sir” in response, Vargas then instructed, “Team captains, step forward!” 

Leona and Rook were now at the head of their respective groups. Ah, so Rook did manage to win out. You spied Floyd close behind him, glaring daggers into the back of his head. Rook seemed amused by the knowledge. Sebek, on the other hand, glowered at Leona on the other side of the makeshift field. You hoped he wouldn’t sabotage the whole game by trying to show the prince up. 

“Being captain’s a big responsibility,” Vargas began to explain. “Your team’s gonna follow your lead - every decision is crucial. You gotta make sure everyone is-” 

“With all due respect, sir,” Leona interjected. There was little actual respect in his tone, however, not with that arrogant grin stretched across his lips. “We’ve all heard this before. Spelldrive, basketball, dodgeball - the same ol’ same ol’, y’know? Have a little confidence in us, yeah?” 

Vargas spared Leona a prolonged glance before he looked over at Rook. “What about you, Hunt? You know the rules? The responsibility?” 

“Oui, professeur,” Rook replied with a smile and cheerful nod of his head. “I swear to guide my petits agneaux with the utmost care.” 

 You scarcely heard Ace whisper to Floyd, “Did he just call us lambs?” 

Yes, he did - little lambs, to be exact. From what you knew of the young man’s language, anyway. You had the faintest idea how Ace understood him, however. Did he study more than you thought, or was it just from exposure to his classmate? Either way, the Leech twin just gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I dunno. Seagull talks funny.” 

“Alright then!” Vargas spoke with a clap of his hands, grin spread wide across his face again. “Looks like we’re ready to play.” He dug his hand into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a coin. He turned to Leona and gave him a choice: Heads or tails? 

“Heads,” Leona chose.

“Oo la la!” Rook practically swooned. “I get to be the tail? Marvellieux!” He eyed Leona with a smile that could almost be called eerie. “To be at one’s tail allows the predator to sneak up on its prey all the better.” 

You glimpsed Leona mouth “fuckin’ creep” as he scowled and shifted his gaze away from the blond. Apparently he was not the only one who had a problem with the statement. “Rook Hunt, as the vice housewarden of Pomefiore, that is a highly inappropriate way to speak to your superior.” Sebek’s back was as straight as a soldier's, as always, his arms crossed over his chest. Rook peeked over his shoulder to get a better look at the half-fae as he continued. “Such manners are unfit for a captain. I must insist that you-” 

“Seeebeek,” cooed a voice a few feet to your left. You looked to see Lilia situated on a large towel under an even larger umbrella. Malleus sat beside him, while Silver - the poor boy - was once again fast asleep on the ground. Lilia slipped his bat-shaped shades down the bridge of his nose to get a better look at the green haired youngling. “Be nice now~” 

A quiet rustle of laughter surrounded the young man in an instant. You watched as his pale skin tinted pink, from his cheeks to his ears, in embarrassment. His expression fell, eyebrows and mouth downturned as he sheepishly lowered his head. “Yes, Master Lilia,” he mumbled, just loud enough for his own superior to hear.

Before the first year could be teased any further, especially by the redhead that grinned mischievously at him, Vargas called out again. “Tails it is!” He reeled around to face you and pointed to the volleyball sat next to you. “Toss me that, [Mr./Ms./Mx. Last Name].” 

You nodded with a smile and took the ball in your hands. From where you sat on the sand, you threw the ball in his direction. He caught it, but not before it lightly collided with his abdomen. You made out the hushest of grunts rumble in his chest at the impact; for a moment, you were afraid you threw too hard and hurt him. That worry was quickly washed away as he shot you a smile and mouthed “nice form!” You breathed a small chuckle and raised your hand in thanks for the praise. 

Vargas turned on his heel back around to face Rook. “Looks like you’re serving first, Hunt.” He tossed Rook the ball, which he caught in quick succession. “Everyone, get into your assigned positions.” Students shuffled this way and that - some stopped towards the front of the neck, others went to stand at the very back of their team’s side of the large square Vargas drew in the sand. Leona and Rook were at the head of each group; Rook held the ball between his fingertips, while Leona made ready to spike it the moment it reached him. With all of them looking so determined and ready to play, you could have mistaken them for a professional team. 

“Ready?” The students nodded their heads. “Set.” Vargas held up his whistle. After a few seconds of tense silence, the sound of the waves beyond were broken by the shrill sound of Vargas’s whistle. As Rook tossed the volleyball into the air, so began the spectacle of your afternoon. 

***

“Who’s winning?” asked a voice from behind you. You glanced to the side just in time to see Sam make himself comfortable beside you, a little cooler placed against his knee.

“So far? It’s a tie,” you responded. “Everyone’s been getting along, surprisingly.” 

Sam pursed his lips in a single low whistle in astonishment. “That’s a rarity. You think the little imps would have pounced on each other by now,” Sam gestured to Floyd, “especially that tall one over there.” 

Thankfully, Floyd had been quite entertained with the game, so much so he got along with his teammates for the most part. Must be all of that teamwork practice he’s had on the basketball team. The same went for Ace. Sebek wasn’t much to worry about as long as he kept his opinions to himself, and Rook was, well…he could be a good leader when he wanted to be. As for the other side of the net, though Leona was strict, it was for the team’s benefit. Deuce and Jack followed his orders to the letter, as did Kalim, even though the white-haired lad got distracted every now and again. Combined with the other students present, it was a pretty good game. 

A soda appeared in your line of vision. You eyed Sam suspiciously as he offered it to you - he simply smiled at you. “On the house,” he said. “The least I could do for a favorite customer.” 

You returned his smile and accepted the drink. “Thank you. Water does get kind of tiring after a while.” 

Vargas took his attention off the game for a minute to look down at the two of you. “Those are bad for you, y’know that. Nothing but sugar and unnecessary calories, not to mention bloating.” 

“Like you haven’t partaken in sugary drinks before,” you quipped back. “Who was the one who ordered a strawberry daiquiri when we went to that bar Saturday night?” 

“It was a one time thing,” Vargas grumbled to himself. 

“Sure,” you chuckled, not believing a word. As you cracked open your can, you added, “I almost expected you to order a drink with egg whites.” 

“I think he was saving up for later,” Sam snickered as he glanced down at Vargas’s now half empty thermos of liquidated eggs. “I tried a raw egg once, y’know. I don’t see how you-” 

In seconds, the volleyball hurtled towards you. You gasped and shut your eyes tight, arms coming up to try and protect your face. You heard the ball make contact - yet you didn’t feel a thing. When your eyelids fluttered back open, in front of you was Vargas. He’d lept off his place on the sand to protect you. He used his chest as an obstacle to make sure you didn’t get hurt. You supposed it was his gut instincts. One would develop them in their years as a teacher and an athlete. 

“Watch it!” he barked out as he stood. He scanned the crowd of students as he tucked the ball under his arm. “Who did that?” 

It wasn’t too hard to figure out. Kalim immediately ran over, expression between horror, concern, and humiliation. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to spike it that hard! I didn’t think it’d go in that direction.” He peeked around Vargas’s broad form to look at you. “Are you okay, [Mr./Ms./Mx. Last Name]?” 

Despite the adrenaline that coursed through your veins, you forced a smile to reassure the boy. “I’m alright, thank you. Just be more careful next time, okay?” 

Kalim nodded his head, earrings jingling along. Vargas, however, wasn’t done with the boy. “It’s those lanky arms that have got you so uncoordinated. Your muscles do a lot of work in directing the ball; they can help control its speed and velocity, too.” Vargas’s other hand was now placed on his hip. “When we get back to the college, I’m going to organize a special training regimen for you, Al-Asim.” 

Vargas’s grin was between helpful and threatening, at least to you. “We’ll bulk you up yet, kid.” 

While a student would usually balk at the thought (a certain Octavinelle second year came to mind), Kalim took the challenge head on. Though you could spy the exasperated glint in his eye at the very notion, he gave a firm nod. “I’ll do my best, coach!” 

Before Kalim could turn around and go back to his team, Vargas stopped him. “Wait, I’ve got an idea.” He whirled around and stooped down to where his things were sprawled out on the sand. His hand grasped the thermos of liquid egg…oh dear. “Have a drink of this,” he offered as he held out the bottle for Kalim to take. “There won’t be any immediate results, but it’s a start. I’ll say it once and I’ll say it again: Eat four dozen raw eggs a day, and you’ll get as strong as me!” 

You could spy the looks of disgust and pity that danced across the faces of Kalim’s peers behind him. Ace made a gag motion with his finger, Leona rolled his eyes, Floyd stuck out his tongue - even Sebek grimaced. In stark contrast, Kalim beamed brighter than the sun in the sky. “Thank you, sir!” He graciously took the thermos in his hands. “Do I drink the whole thing?” 

“Go right ahead!” Vargas looked thoroughly pleased by the boy’s eagerness. You and Sam, on the other hand, pitied the oblivious kid. “Just don’t choke,” Vargas laughed, “they’re slimy.” 

Without another word, Kalim popped open the cap on the lid and knocked back the yellow slime. While there were a few who cheered Kalim, the rest of the students made various noises of disgust and disbelief. The Al-Asim heir appeared to not like the taste, but he chugged it down like a champ. When he finished, he let out a loud gasp, a string of saliva dripping down his chin. He coughed once, twice - Vargas slapped him on the back to help him out. Not the best aid, you thought. 

“Good lad!” he praised. “Now, get back out there and show me what you’re made of! Just try not to hit anyone this time.” 

“Y-Yes sir!” Kalim’s enthusiasm was stuttered by a suppressed burp. There was a slight shake to his step as he jogged back over to his teammates. They all looked at him as though he were mad. Deuce laid a hand on his shoulder as he came to his side; the words you couldn’t discern were likely to ask if he was okay, maybe why he’d do something so brash. 

“If he gets sick later, I’m pointing right at you,” you said as Vargas sat back down. 

“He’ll be fine!” Vargas assured, tossing the empty thermos beside him. “Kid’s got guts - a strong stomach, too, from what I’ve heard. Just you watch: In a few months time, me and him will be chugging eggs like there’s no tomorrow!” 

You highly doubted that. You pitied the boy later that night when he upchucked Vargas’s ‘gracious’ gift.

[thesevenwondersofawitch]

The Brothers Sun ep8

Understandable that the Tea Leaf guy won't talk unless Big Sun is brought down

Aw, they're staying in a motel

Mama Sun is so done that Bruce couldn't get the name for dragon head right 😂

She makes her son drive at night because she gets lost😭

She bought 6 pasta strainers just because they were on sale

"You are not a crime boss. You're my mom." She can be both

I get where she's coming from, but it never sits right to be mad at the kid who didn't

NOOOOOOOOOO Charles nooooooooooooooo

Oh thank god, he shot above his brother's head

The mom's hand on Charles shoulder 😭 I bet she came running

I love that Bruce said that it's going to lead to decades of therapy (that his brother was sent to kill him by their father)😂

Charles don't hurt your brother! He has a point about killing your father

The fact that Bruce said he'd do anything to protect his brother 😭

The way the mom admitted that the chairleg incident was a test and she didn't push back against the father when he forced Charles to kill the first time😭

At least she's showing the remorse and guilt she feels for sacrificing

"Forget dad, you can be Charles -churro baker Sun"😭

The way that the mom has a charger for her son's phone😭

Oh, Charles just realized how he was betrayed

Xing telling the Wang bros that they need to shut up makes me hope she at least feels some guilt for betraying

The dad is such an asshole

Good for you Charles, telling your dad you want to stay. I'm proud of you❤️

The way I cheered when Charles shot those douche bags😂

Oh no, Xing is going to kill the mother and brother 😭

Well fuck indeed, Charles, fuck indeed

Alexis saying that they don't have shrimp chips😂

Him asking for a charger is not permission to track his phone

Alexis is far worse than Charles ever could be

Mama Sun wearing an oversized jersey is so cute

Yeah, Xing sucks and blood boots would never

The fact that the mom is immediately chastising Bruce for getting the wrong milk😂

FUCK YOU ALEXIS. FUCK YOU

Bruce is absolutely playing her😂 the improv classes work!

I love how Charles is just as shocked that the mom can fight 😂😂

Bruce planning to kill their dad😂

I mean, him being good at Laser Tag and also beating his actual assassin brother at a shooting video game is hilarious and actually makes sense

Bruce: "Neither of us are who our parents thought we were."

Charles"Yeah, but both our parents are crazy."

Bruce: "yeah."

Bruce, hugging Charles: "I don't think we've ever hugged before."

Charles: "Well, you're probably gonna die, so might as well get one last one before you go."😂

Bruce: "Right."

Bruce, handing his visitor badge to Alexis: "The Brothers Sun don't work with cops." HA!

Oh no, Bruce don't listen to that serpent of a father who's telling you to join him.

I love that Charles made sure to shoot his dad and missed the internal organs 😂 It definitely pays

The way that Bruce said he'd use his spit to make his taco dumplings 😂

I'm pretty sure that it was Bruce's plan all along to get his brother and mom to cook for him forever😂

FUCK YEAH! THE MAMA INJECTING THE DAD'S IV BAGS WITH INSULIN IS WICKED AND GENIUS AND I'M SO HAPPY FOR HER!

Awwwww she bought her son a bakery 😭🥺

Hopefully that other girl isn't

The way she brought gifts to her friends

I love that she wants her kids to have lives and be happy 🥺❤️

Good for Alexis that she got a tower of her snack

The pictures in the mom's room with both her boys🥺😭

I'm crying with Bruce and Mama Sun too😭 nothing bad better happen to her

Oh nooooo, Charles is leaving too😭 I mean I'm happy that he's gonna get some time with his mama and that she's finally getting what she wants

I love that June has dinner reservations already 😂 she's got her priorities straight

The fact that Bruce still struggles to drive his car is hilarious and relatable af😂

I really hope we get another season, just because this was so well written and I enjoyed this show so much. But it also ended on a great note.

Ooooooo I wonder who that guy with the sunglasses sounds like he's being sent after Tea guy

Also still curious about who the man was that Eileen had been dancing with in Taiwan

[dlthedescent]

INTERMISSION I-IV: BEFORE WE PART WAYS...

Segment taken from Side Quest Story: Lending A Hand

The prosthetic arm looked crude and clunky, a skeletal framework of scrap metal, bolts, and screws. It was functional but basic, powered by an old battery pack.

Nobody expected miracles, but the flaws became more apparent the longer Noam worked on it. The biggest issue was the fingers—they had to be controlled manually with joystick switches, requiring clumsy extra steps.

Clank!

Two fingers and a thumb clamped too hard, shattering a cup in the test.

Jack's eyes widened, alarm bells ringing in her head. There was no way they would put this on the lad and everyone agreed silently.. Noam swept the shards away, terrified as the fingers twitched, almost as if the contraption wanted to grab him, only stopped by its heavy weight.

"That's a bear trap," Freakazoid stated the obvious.

"You don't have to tell me twice. Doesn't help that it needs a 35-kilo battery, and a controller that short-circuits!"

Frustrated, Noam yanked out the wires, watching the disastrous metallic beast power down.

"Alright. What do we need?" Crane asked.

"Nothing," Noam replied, slumping in his seat. "Hate to break it to you, but you're gonna need hardware. Know anyone who can help?"

"If we were in the Outskirts, the Grads might have an idea," Jack offered.

"Any chance they can help out?"

Jack shook her head. "It's hard enough traveling along the Coastline without the military breathing down our necks."

Crane wasn't an engineer, but he knew this mechanical upgrade was a long shot. The prototype on the table wasn't even the first attempt.

"...What about asking Tolga and Fatin?"

Jack's eyes widened in disbelief for hearing the worst suggestion possible. Noam, however, looked confused—those names weren't as infamous to him as they were to both Runners.

Crane already regretted the suggestion before he said it. They were the last people on Earth he'd ever want to ask for anything.

"No," Jack said firmly.

"I don't like it either," he admitted.

"Absolutely not."

"They're difficult, sure-"

"That's not my problem. You're asking two mad scientists to work on a child's arm."

"They're not going to strap a rocket launcher on him," Crane said, though Jack immediately picked on the slight doubt in his voice, narrowing her eyes further.

Because he could actually see those two do the impossible. Not for a kid, hopefully.

Still, what other options did they have?

"Let me talk to them."

All of a sudden, Jack crossed her arms, brow furrowed. Why?

This was the first time Freakazoid had volunteered to talk to someone, let alone two people Jack could barely tolerate.

"I mean, sure. Give it your best shot."

"Trust me. They'll make that hardware for us."

No backing down from Freakazoid—another first for Jack. Was he really sold on the brothers' brilliance for making that harpoon gun? Jack glanced over to Noam, hoping for an alternative. Another safer option.

"I got nothing," Noam said, still lost in the conversation. Any solution seemed better than his failed contraptions so far.

Jack didn't feel any more confident, but she decided to let it play out.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she muttered, both amused and puzzled, as she walked out of the garage.

Crane followed, initially confident. But as soon as he left the garage—with no one paying attention—he groaned, his steps feeling heavier.

"...Maybe they won't recognize me. My voice's fucked anyway."

Quest Stories, Special Delivery, Out With a Bang and Lending a Hand can be found at these links: FFN and AO3.

[mmmichyyy]

🖤gallavich fic rec list🖤

i combed through my ao3 bookmarks and tumblr archive so here are some (but not all!) of my fave one-shots, wips, completed fics and tumblr ficlets i read & reread this year, ranging from newer fics to ones published in the past years ✨ there's almost 50 (!!) recs here so hopefully you'll find something new to read 🖤

check out the fic rec list i compiled last year!

(i didn't include the fics i've already mentioned in the last list plus the endless fics posted this year to avoid making this list longer than it already is, but if i had infinite time & space i'd include them all 🥰 onwards!)

one-shots:

seal my fate by allyasavedtheday (s2 canon divergence)

fix me up by biblionerd07 (Mickey has a lot of scars. Ian has a lot of feelings about those scars.)

shut the door and let go by @tellmegoodbye (s3 sleepover re-write)

these days, life is better by biblionerd07 (Ian realizes Mickey is the most romantic guy on Earth.)

in the romance section by kissteethstainred (When Ian moves to a new area, he starts to frequent the local bookstore. Eventually he begins to visit the bookstore for the owner more than the books themselves.)

icarus is online by @mishervellous (AnonMate is all everyone is talking about. Ian wants in on it.)

beginners by @bravemikhailo (Ian and Mickey meet the day they graduate college and all they've got is one night together.)

start again by allyasavedtheday (A little look at how Ian (and Mickey) comes to terms with his bipolar disorder.)

falling for you without a second look by xylodemon (s3 roadtrip)

for his honey by @squidyyy23 (ian’s impressed when his husband’s business savvy helps them expand their farm. and he's going to make sure he knows it.)

'tis the damn season by @sweetcresta (Ian comes home for Christmas and old habits die hard.)

sneaking in by @ianandmickeygallavich (Sneaking into a movie feels different. It shouldn’t, friends go to the movies, families go to the movies. But….Ian can’t help thinking about the fact that it’s a classic choice for a date.)

eighty-four by kissteethstainred (college/time-travel au)

if you love me, won't you let me know? by kissteethstainred (college au)

five times mickey wears ian's clothes and one time ian wears mickey's by @teatimeallovertown (A brief look at the journey of Mickey and Ian through the clothes they share.)

i'd follow your love down a dead end street by zoeplacid (Ian Gallagher wishes his soul mate was Mickey Milkovich, but the universe seems to have other ideas.)

wildfire by ilostyournumber (Ian is a bipolar stripper and Mickey is deep in the closet and they try not to tear each other apart.)

'til our compass stands still by biblionerd07 (Mickey just assumed they'd have smooth sailing from here on out. It never occurred to him being in prison together might be the easiest part of their relationship.)

wips:

sweetpea by @whatthebodygraspsnot (shapeshifter!cat!mickey! 🐈‍⬛)

reckoner by @thisdivorce (Ian Gallagher is married, stable, happy working as a Paramedic and trying to start a family, but a chance encounter with the foul-mouthed father of one of his patients—who has more ties to Ian than either of them know—threatens to blow it all up.)

selfless acts of the illegal variety by @abundanceofnots (The last thing Ian Gallagher thought he'd be at 19 is married—and to a grumpy Ukrainian bouncer called Mickey who's barely said ten words to him since they first met, no less. But when a rare chance at love knocks on your door, you don't just send the cute guy in dire need of a green card back to his homophobic father in Kyiv, right?)

your question has been received by @celestialmickey (a tumblr AU with a bit of a twist)

change like shifting shadows by @thisdivorce (priest!ian)

bound & free by @sunoficarus (magic/fantasy + marriage of convenience au)

a beginner's mind by @spoonfulstar (a collection of stories that take place after the events of ch. 27 of you'll never see us again)

the fine art of falling for you by @goodkwuestion (Teaching the Arts is hard enough, but mastering the art of falling in love might just prove downright impossible.)

paragraphs by @palepinkgoat (Ian has an opportunity to be a reading tutor for ex-convicts. He meets one in particular that catches his eye.)

things beyond mistake by @gallavichy (Ian, a high school teacher in need of a fresh start, returns to his childhood home after nearly 20 years to find himself once more sharing a lonely dirt road with Mickey, the boy he once knew and the man he's desperate to get to know.)

rebuilding (series) by freespiritedone (After almost 6 years in prison during which he was simultaneously built up and torn down, Mickey is free and embarking on a brand new life in New York City. Everything is different and yet some things never change - even if he wishes they would. Coming to terms with a new life while contending with the old is harder than anything he could have imagined. *long, slow burn)

completed:

technically by @annatrow (Ian Gallagher has grown up in the foster care system for most of his life, and he’s pretty sure he’s got his future figured out. That is until he falls for the bad kid who is about to change the entire course of his life.)

please don't say i'm going alone by biblionerd07 (Ian shows up at Mickey's wedding and asks him to run away together. Somehow, Mickey finds himself stupid enough to say yes.)

geometric progression (series) by romanticalgirl (angsty s4 au) *sidenote: i reread this all the time when i feel down just to feel even more depressed :')

these foolish games by @suzy-queued (A workplace rivalry becomes a love quadrangle. With laser tag.)

through the dawn (series) by spock (a semi-au set in a universe where mickey and ian didn't grow up in the same neighbourhood.)

SLOML (series) by @good-then-dont (short fics exploring Ian and Mickey’s own exploration of their relationship in a world where 3x6 never happens.)

ian the friendly ghost by @sunoficarus (ghosts au where Mickey thinks the house he moved in is haunted because the doors seem to close on their own and his shit somehow gets neat and tidy and Ian's just a very polite ghost who's got a bit of a crush on the adorable grumpy guy who's just moved in)

the little things give you away by kissteethstainred (When Ian first sees them, he thinks they’re twins. They both have similar looks, with pale skin, dark hair, and blue eyes. They act similar too—both of them are quiet, they fidget in the same way, and they make some of the same facial expressions. Ian wants to know them.)

my nine lovers by @annatrow (Secret Agents Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich find themselves working together multiple times over the course of ten years.)

mickey mantle vs. the t-rex by zoeplacid (angsty alternate s5)

broad-shouldered beasts by biblionerd07 (Six years after Mickey goes to jail, he's released on parole. He does his best to build a "normal" life and a relationship with his son while juggling the scars of his past.)

OSHA compliant by romanticalgirl (It's been two years since they broke up. And Mickey's got his life together. Which means it's about time for something to come along and screw it up.)

you make me feel human by dragona (In which Ian is a cold-blooded serial killer with a soft spot for a certain South Side asshole.)

tumblr ficlets:

fiction in the archives by @gardenerian (ficlets and 5+1 prompts)

what we talk about when we talk about love by @bravemikhailo (a collection of one-shots, ficlets and prompt-fillers originally posted to tumblr)

tumblr fics ✨ by @gallawitchxx (collection of ficlets, 5+1 prompts, scene fillers)

time travel au part one / two / three / four / five by @whatthebodygraspsnot (s1 ian & mickey meet their s11 selves)

who's more cold & happy husband weight gain by @iansfreckles (& all their drabbles!)

magic au & migraine ficlet by @arrowflier

& of course, check out @galladrabbles for a wide range of 100 word ficlets written by our talented community & @gallavichfanficlibrary for more specific rec lists ✨

[nonbinary-octopus]

in rimworld, there is a romance mechanic, in which one character will flirt with another, in an attempt to start dating

if they fail, both characters will have a mood debuff for a bit, and also a social debuff for each other

unfortunately, they might still try again, and get increasingly grumpy with each other, which also lowers the chances of any given attempt succeeding

this is particularly frustrating when two characters do like each other, or would if not for the failed romance attempts, and are flirting back and forth with negative responses

so, @kieraelieson and I were discussing a potential mod to remedy this: a lower limit on success chance before they'll attempt a flirt. So, rather than repeatedly flirting with a 2% chance of success and failing each time, they'd wait until they had at least a 15% chance

or whatever percentage you wanted to set it to, because preferably it should have a slider

which then got me thinking about other customization options. I wasn't going to write this down until tomorrow, but my brain has been stuck on the concept instead of letting me sleep, and it's been an hour since I laid down, so I'm going to write it out anyway. Hopefully then I can sleep.

Kiera had the idea of traits for flirtyness: Flirty, neutral, and cautious lover.

Flirty people would have a lower threshold, say 10% chance, and would take rejection easier, as well as be less annoyed by undesired advances

Neutral would be the 15% threshold, and have the default, unmodded moodlets

Cautious Lovers would have a higher threshold, say 30%, and would take rejection hard, and also would feel real bad about turning someone else down!

all three of these threshold numbers could be customized, of course!

Other stuff I wanted to put on the customization screen, of course separately customizable per trait, and potentially customizable per trait of the other person (i.e. flirty person flirts with cautious person vs flirty person flirts with another flirty person) includes:

Flirting Cooldown

after a failed flirtation attempt, they will wait [_] (hours/days) before flirting with (anyone/this person) again

potentially a separate cooldown for flirting in general vs this specific person, rather than selecting which of the two it applies to

potentially an option to cool down once the moodlet is gone, rather than a timer. that's probably more complex to code though

maybe also a cooldown for flirting with people after being hit on?

Rejection Moodlets - customizable for each being rejected and rejecting someone else

[_] mood, wears off in [_] (hours/days)

[_] social opinion, wears off in [_] (hours/days)

I would hard code in different moodlet names and flavor text depending on traits. potentially also different depending on value of moodlets (more serious text the harder they took it. Happy text if you put a positive number — maybe this is A Fun Activity for Flirty types)

for example:

Cautious Lover rejected: Love Scorned -10 "I'm really crushed. I put my heart out there and they rejected me!"

Flirty rejected: Flirt Rebuffed -1 "Ah well, it was worth a shot! ;D"

Flirty hit on: Flirted With +1 "I'm not interested right now but it's nice to be appreciated!"

It would also be nice to put in something that would prevent both rejecting the other, though at least the threshold would keep it from happening a bunch of times back to back. I'm not sure which would work better, preventing characters from propositioning someone they just rejected, or preventing characters from rejecting someone they just propositioned. I guess I could put a checkbox for each of those in the customization, though.

or, I'd also considered being rebuffed increasing the romance chance if the other changes their mind. idk

also I considered, if flirty people enjoy the activity regardless of being turned down, maybe I could add a bit where a flirty person getting flirted with by another flirt would have a chance of immediately flirting back

also it would be good if they could flirt with their partners once together. like the additonal romance stuff in the Romance on the Rim mod. and these flirts would boost both their moods. So I guess that's another moodlet/social opinion to put in customization

everyone gets one for being flirted with by a partner, and Flirty types get one for flirting with their partners

[partyanimal167]

Run in with Royalty- Miguel x F!Reader

I'm gonna crank out as many fics before I start work again 😤 I've binged and reread some of my favorite mafia au fics recently (especially by @tarjapearce and @guilty-pleasures21), and it's honestly been one of my favorite tropes since high school. I wanted to shoot my shot at it, so we'll see where this goes

CW: mentions of violence, language, mdni, fem reader, smoking, author knows some Spanish

Miguel had goals and ambitions. He knew nearly everything and everyone, so when he had the opportunity for more, he had the resources to take it. Nothing could surprise him. He was on top. Or so he thought....

You sat on the marble balcony bored out of your mind--gazing at the forest scenery and getting too much fresh air in your lungs. You weren't sure how long it had been since your husband had died, but things should be calming down after all.

Wars between families were very unsightly and violent which is why they rarely occurred. It was better to hold grudges and make aggressive business moves rather than fill useful workers with lead. Most people understood that. But then again, businesses and territory does not grow without risk, and you have to be prepared for some loss. Just hopefully not your life.

There were many lessons that leaders were taught whether from others or their own experiences. You had those. So did your husband. However, your family was a bit traditional with certain things, so while you would have thrived on your own, a partner seemed like a good idea--could produce an heir too. Shame that didn't happen.

So you and your husband worked together to maintain and plan for growth. And things seemed to be going well. Until, they weren't.

For success, it's important to know when to continue and when to walk away. And that was a sense your husband never truly grasped. If he wanted something, he'd go after it no matter the loss. And that's not good business.

Things threatened to fall apart when he started going after arms dealers and connections in the east coast. He did not have the man power to deal with such a powerhouse.

And it cost him.

~~~

Miguel knew that there were only a few more knots to finish tying before he was done dealing with that dumbass that wanted to take over his business. He was still establishing himself as a qualified heir, but he assumed his next threat would come from a rival family--not a no-name from who knows where.

His men had tracked down the goons easily, and after some quick and messy interrogations, he had come to the scum's house to finish him off personally. It wasn't necessarily Miguel's style. He was trying to be more peaceful as a leader, but well...an example also needed to be made. People couldn't just come from across the country and attempt to steal what was his. He kept a tight grip on his empire.

The house seemed barely lived in. It was like a glorified mansion in the woods. There was nice furniture and sleek appliances. Nothing was toss around or disorganized as if the man was trying to flee.

That made Miguel's jaw twitch.

If this cabron actually thinks he hid himself from me- Miguel went up the stairs cautiously. His pointed leather shoes moved quietly on the marble floors, and his navy dress shirt clung onto him as he moved through the house alert and ready for anything.

The door to the master bedroom was cracked open. The light smell of floral smoke drifted to his nose, but there was a sickly undertone too. Miguel reached for his gun as he pushed the door opened. He pointed it out ready to confront his adversary.

He wasn't ready to be greeted with surprised sparkling eyes. A gorgeous woman sat on the balcony that looked over the lake. She was dressed in a lovely cream dress that popped against her skin. She sat up straight at a white garden table with a cup of tea in front of her and a book. She was definitely not expecting Miguel to be at the door. It would have looked like an awkward accidental encounter to anyone.

If not for the body that laid shot in between the two.

Miguel's eyes raced from the body back to the woman who was way too calm in this circumstance.

She met Miguel's gaze, and that's when a mischievous grin appeared on her face.

She placed a hand over her heart. "It seems you were looking for my husband. My apologies, but I think I beat you to the chase."

~~~

You licked your lips as you took in Mr. Miguel O'Hara. He definitely looked good in his working suit--deep blues and reds with webbing details and gold accents. You certainly appreciated the style. You took an inhale of your smoke before resting your head in your palm and grinned.

"Mrs. Giordano, I presume?"

You shrugged and giggled. "You can technically call me that." Miguel stepped further into room--gaze going between you and the corpse that laid was flat on its back. It seemed as if he had been taken by surprise. Miguel didn't put his gun away as he got closer. "You don't need that, Mr. O'Hara."

Miguel tightened up hearing his name. The gun didn't move. "You know who I am?"

You chuckled at that. "Of course I do! I don't go running around in other's playgrounds without knowing whose land I'm on." you turned at the body and sighed. "If only Lucci did the same."

Miguel couldn't care less about the man now. He was dead. That was taken care of. But you were proving to be an unexpected, unpredictable threat. "I didn't know Giordano had a wife." he slowly put his gun away.

You shrugged again. "That's fine. It pays to be in the shadows. You get to watch everyone else play. Take notes." you beamed as the man got closer. He was quite the looker. You could imagine him tearing through your husband's men with barely any effort. You wondered if his eyes glow in both lust and anger.

He stopped a few feet away. "Shame to hide a beautiful woman though. Were you missing your freedom?" It would do well for him to understand the moments leading to your husband's final moments. Was it simply a quarrel that got out of hand? Or something more serious?

You took a final pull before pressing your cigarette out. "Flirting with a recent widow?" you leaned back with a grin. "Have some manners."

Miguel eyed you more and noted the fire in yours. There was little remorse and lots of confidence. You were not just some housewife. Miguel could tell for sure. You were accustomed to this life some way or another, so you were definitely a threat to Miguel. "My apologies, I'm just a bit surprised, reina. I wasn't expect this...or you." he gently took your hand and pressed a kiss on it. "Please call me Miguel."

"How charming," you chuckled, "well I wasn't expecting it either, but things happen when someone rages in and demands things from you." you went on and glanced back inside the room, "And well if you make threats, then its only appropriate to defend yourself."

Miguel nodded. "What kind of things?"

You shook your head as you raised your tea to your painted lips. "It's important to know people, guapo. You need to know who you're dealing with."

A notification rung, and Miguel glanced at his phone. "Well maybe we can get to know each other soon. I have a car, and my men are outside waiting."

"I'll pass."

Miguel scoffed. "It wasn't necessarily a suggestion, muñeca."

You laughed as you stood and wrapped your khaki coat around you. You reached inside and pulled out a card. "I know, but again, you do not know who you're dealing with. In the future, do not put myself in the same category as my late husband." you handed the card and took a step back.

"What the- Hey!" Miguel lurched forward a second after you flipped over the rail and down into the water. He didn't hear a splash and turned to see a motorboat starting up. Suits surrounded you as the boat began to speed away. "Fuck!" he groaned as he slammed his hands on the fence. You blew a kiss at the man and waved. Just who the hell is she?

~~~

"Remember Miguel: be a strong leader, don't let anyone walk over you ever. You will lead this family to greatness.

Never make enemies with the _____ Family."

The man grunted as he stared at the invitation in his hand. The paper was excellent quality with shiny gold lettering and black accents. He tapped it against his hand before pocketing it in his suit coat when his name was called.

"Thank you for coming. She will see you now."

Miguel grunted in response as he stood and entered the office.

This side of the country was a lot warmer this time of year. The clear windows allowed sunlight to pour in. The backdrop with desert mountains and bright blue skies reminded Miguel that he was not in the comfort of his city.

You looked up at the man with a soft smile before standing. You held out your hand to shake, but Miguel took it to place a chaste kiss.

"Still a charmer, I see." Miguel grinned and noted the ring on your finger before gently letting go. "Thank you for coming."

Miguel unbuttoned his coat as he took a seat. "I'd be a fool not to."

You tilted your head a little curiously. "Oh? Why is that?"

Don't play with me. "I was taught from early age not to make enemies with the Leaena Family." he checked you out as you sat comfortable across. "I never expected to meet them the way I did though."

You flashed your teeth with a grin--definitely prideful of your lineage and legacy. "Smart man. And yes, that was rather unfortunate. I was hoping to have made a calmer visit to the East, but well, you know how that went. Which is why you're here. I want to make amends. I've taken on a more active leadership role with my husband's passing. May God rest his soul."

Miguel grunted. "If he had threatened your life, I don't think he deserves the pleasantries. He was a fool to lose such a treasure."

"Jeez, I might just keep you here. I don't mind hearing those words from you." You hummed as yours eyes greedily took him in. "But back to business. We could benefit from working together. I'm sure you have your apprehensions, but I sincerely say that the actions of my dearly departed do not reflect the values of my family and operations."

Miguel huffed a laugh. "I don't really care about that anymore. You handled it privately. I'm more confused as to why you haven't been running the show since the beginning."

"The family tends to be a bit traditional--wanted male leaders and an heir. But after recent events, I'm sure you understand their change of heart." You smiled sweetly. You had more than proven yourself, and there weren't any immediate solutions to an empty head spot.

It drew Miguel in--a pretty, sweet face. You were strong too but more importantly a threat. There was not a lick of remorse or shock in your eyes when you looked at your husband's corpse even if there was an odd fondness voice when you talked about him. It was as if you shrugged his death to be just another incident--something unfortunate yet just a part of this lifestyle. If you could easily dispose of your husband for your own gain, then how would you treat your partners?

You reached into your desk drawer and pulled out a manila folder. You slid it towards Miguel as you prepared your floral smokes. You took in a breath before continuing. "I know that there have been some issues securing some arms to Nueva York. It isn't necessarily my area of expertise, but I have some connections with shipping that is looking to get into the east coast market."

"That sounds more like a favor than partnership. I can patch the holes up fine, carino."

You kept your smile. "I'm sure you can, but considering it is Kingpin making those holes, I think you would like the support."

A twitch of the eye. Miguel had his suspicions, but he hadn't quite confirmed anything. How did you know this? Your information network couldn't have been that extensive.

"Mr. O'Hara, I'm going to let you in on a little secret." You tapped the ash tray before leaning forward almost bent over the desk. You rested your bosom on your folded arms, and it took a little too much effort for Miguel not to peek. You lowered your voice. "The only reason why my family and I haven't gone to the east to expand is simply because we don't like the winter." you chuckled.

Miguel's gaze shot up. "No soy idiota! No me vengas con tonterias "

You held up your hands before leaning back. "Just a little preference. I'm not threatening you. Please, I wouldn't be able to work in those snow storms, really." you pressed a button on your desk. "I'm very serious though. We would be able to support your operations, and if the time comes, I hope you will be there to help. Keep that folder and look it over." A man came in with black matte gift bag. Just from the sound of it against the desk, Miguel knew it was heavy. "Thank you for your time, again. I look forward to hearing your answer soon."

...

Miguel glared at the bag as it sat on the table in his hotel room. A bottle of his favorite liquor and a box of his celebratory cigars were in front.

Who the hell is this woman? Miguel knew his answer before he even got out the building, but he had to come up with a plan. He didn't quite trust you. You knew your stuff, of course! That wasn't the question. But he had to make sure he kept his assets and operations. This wasn't an up and coming boss. No, you were established. You were a mafia princess with the knowledge and resources to play the field and achieve nearly whatever you desired on a whim.

Miguel chuckled to himself before he reached for a crystal glass and poured himself a glass. He raised it a little with a smirk. Let the games begin, leona.

~~~

Aaahhh~ I wanted this to get spicy, but gosh I love worldbuilding so much. I hope you liked it. I'm not sure where else I want to go with this yet, but please maybe you'll enjoy my other fics in the meantime

Ciao~

[queenofhyruleee]

Link/Reader Story

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

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

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

Again. 

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

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

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

Like he would probably do again after today. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you the potions-maker?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m Link.” 

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

“I could say the same about you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re joking, right?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think we’ll see him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Link’s eyes hardened. “And did he?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.” 

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

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

“It’s not my lunch, don’t worry.” 

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

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

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

“You know.. just in case.” 

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

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

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

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

“Promise.” 

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

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

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

You groaned, making a face. “Really?”

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

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

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

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

But at least you had Link. 

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

“Oh here it comes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A knight in shining armor. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thud. 

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

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

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

Someone was knocking on the front door of the store.