#mundane tours

[ninihowlter]

yeah sorry if you need me i'll be here.

probably for an eternity. the song choice. the zoom. i have a tear in my eye actually.

[incorrect-tit-tour-predictions]

the finish the tour post one picture of a kiss and then retire permanently

Or even better they completely change their career paths to something so fucking mundane that sometimes we'll be in the movie theater and as the credits are rolling we just see "Phil Lester" credited among the legions of editors and think huh so that's what he's up to these days

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

I’m mentally preparing myself for the day that Taylor sits at the piano and decides to rawdog “hoax.”

[sages-of-hell]

coming freshly out of the rite here rite now film the only thing i want to say is how much i love how deeply unserious of a band ghost is

[allbeendonebefore]

as i chip away at aasa again I've been thinking about my approach to ocs generally and the differences between how I do things and how other people do things and what I like and don't like or wish was different and whatever, like, things I wish I was better at?

One of those things is a scale of how "human" to "inhuman" personifications are and I am very fascinated by this idea when other people do it, but I often struggle with how to approach it myself (and of course, that's always been wrapped up with my own issues with my own gender/sexuality so it's hard to untangle sometimes)

I think the inhuman parts are very fascinating - whether you want to treat them as kind of mythical semi-divine figures or as things that are more monstrous, but I myself often really struggle to write them. And it's occurred to me (especially during the mikupocalypse haha) that my niche is more creating the "Just Some Guy" characters, like, they're weird and have kind of weird perspectives and attitudes if you dig, or they seem to be based somewhat on surface level stereotypes, but I still like to think of them as people you'd see at the gas station or people you'd see at the park or in a waiting room. (this has a terrible side effect though and you have to be careful or one of your IRL OCs will come up and ask you a question at work or sit next to you on the plane or the bus, very unique kind of mortification)

all this to say, i think i've become accustomed to the Just Some Guy narrative being something like a trademark of mine. It's not something that is so obvious in AaSA because I try to take care in recent chapters to be like 'this is not our society and these are not normal people', but something recently occurred to me about how I can put more Some Guy-ness into a future chapter that I am currently putting it in the mental crockpot to simmer because it could be very interesting.

[forestofforever]

I had a meet and greet with Royal Republic yesterday, but I forgot to bring something for them to sign so I asked them to sign my ereader instead.

And they did, and I feel like that's pretty iconic, actually. One of the members (Jonas) even asked about the book I was reading (Curse Of The Reaper) which was such a good time ngl.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also it's something (better) like, the exercise of deliberately [art imitates life imitates art] holding up Billions to My IRL Things Perspective and going like whaaat would i want for winston. first answer is you want any character to not have been within the scope of the show in the first place, and to exit it since they are. and you kind of get that in the accidental reward in banishing winston, since like in the end it's just that the show doesn't care about him existing at that point But like it's winston sitting there quietly as everyone leaves & turns out the lights & Then he can leave too; others have peaced out & nobody remembers he exists so Now he can go off & do whatever.

but like in true form i think they definitely accidentally baked in another divine reward for winston in that, like, the way he's kept around as fodder for these fun little [pov: enjoy abusing this guy] asides with him, where it Just So Happens that he's autistic as something they're unaware of but is completely relevant to the expectation we understand him to be inferior(tm), it Just So Happens that he's also ""bad"" at not ""causing"" abuse to be turned on him. he's ""bad"" at staying in line. like well yes Yes that's what i want for him. just like In Real Life it's like yeah Ideally i'd want people to be able to extricate themselves from where they're trapped in power structures & i'd want them to have the perspective about it of understanding they're not Inferior / i.e. they are as much a person as anyone else and they're not corrupting everything good / i.e. it wasn't them Bringing It Upon Themselves and it's not them being Destructive by toppling a jenga tower of a hierarchy that happened to be pressing down on them. and winston is the kind of [the ruinerrrrrr] who is Turned On exactly because he keeps acting like someone who's on the verge of breaking out of the [being in line] someone demands of him as autist, employee, whatever other supposed manifestations of [inferior]

like in the 5 second stretches in which winston's allowed to speak before retaliation, it's because he's like "matter of factly" delivering whatever Information that's useful for another plotline. then he Brings It Upon Himself by making people aware that he's Also existing in his own right as a person rather than what they think serves their own deal / what they want from him at all times, perhaps by expressing his personality (didn't appeal to them! so it was Wrong) or not b/c of anything in particular said or done at present, just b/c people have a constant / accumulating contempt for him so their being in the same room as him & able to see & hear him is already dangerous. the [we're just seeing Any Abusive Dynamic in action] continuing apace.

and it's like, well, right there. he's written as acting like someone who doesn't blame himself for how he's treated, which billions frames as being Rude & Mean, and so too does everyone's abusers lmfao like and that these are his moments that are written to be Bringing It Upon Himself. and it's like hell yeah he doesn't blame himself. hell yeah that his self-esteem can manifest as anger at all. hell yeah that he keeps expressing himself with personality & confidence & doesn't even disguise his having been hurt, & it's this [his ass is Not grey rocking] that billions frames as both him "causing" his abuse & making that abuse "successful" lol, wrow just like real life!! and when like speaking of real life yeah it's not "bad" that people Do engage in strategies to mitigate & survive, including things like blaming themselves or being too "boring" to be anything but a non dialogued background character b/c that's all that goes unpunished, it's bad b/c it's done to them at all, not [ohh they're doing it to themselvesss] and like i'm asking myself like Ideally. what do i want Ideally. and i'd want winston to know that it's being Done To Him & i'd want him to find as much room for his personhood & autonomy as possible. and that's basically how he's written anyways, and billions hates that like You See this is why he deserves it this is why he's doing it to himself. and i'm like my god if that's not Inspiration for like "so what if people don't find you Personally Likable" and not preemptively holding back all personality or anything that'd draw attention as if you exist as a person in your own right & not something that only either gets in the way of or serves their wants of a Real person (someone with more power) like hell yeah you have him out here doing it =']

another fun addendum is like, billions isn't getting into it much b/c it doesn't seem to care much about "what if some people were peers & seem to have a genuine, recipcrocal relationship?" but that it just so happened to be like "oh tuk as the next closest loser who deserves it might be nice to winston" while it's framing winston as the "worse" Loser as being....unconditionally supportive of tuk. while the one downside of billions Also giving bentuk as much as it is is that it also inevitably has that shadow of "but ben is Superior to tuk" and like that it's correct that everyone encourages tuk to Stop Bringing It Upon Himself and start being less of a loser; it's wrong for winston to be like hey let's go have a foursome. like yeah probably don't make a list of the women you work with you'd be dtf but it's not like i'm convinced "ah billions and it's strong anti misogyny stance like" roflmao and billions is Not reflecting on "the downsides of unconditional support?" there when winston was beaten up for criticising taylor earlier like we WILL take his ideas while looting his [beaten unconscious] body there but he WAS wrong to express them as though he's BETTER than taylor!!! mafee's beautiful show of loyalty in kicking his ass even when he might agree with the argument and then benefit when it's adopted by taylor anyways! so it's as usual actually purely based on hierarchy & who gets to be in charge of people. it's correct for ben to be in charge of tuk, unless he has to step aside for that bizarre dead-end subplot about how it's tuk's fault if he's treated badly, b/c it's really his own Failure to have Confidence to know he has good ideas [raising our voice to deliver this message over the sound of breaking desks and chairs and computer monitors over winston because he had the confidence to act like he deserved to talk to someone and because he knows his ideas efforts & results are good & valuable around there] like. and isn't it sooo fucked up to talk about who you're dtf in the episode that has it be neutral if your boss is dtf & lets you know but is nice about it (and you're already Correctly tending to their ego, which you're responsible for!) like hey no possible problem! it's not even so much of a problem for a boss man to have the sex they're entitled to & be rude about their leveraging their power in that acquisition that it Stays a problem into the next season. ew, winston is Known (Inferred) Dtf??? we'll use it to exploit His vulnerability, exacerbate it, & punish him further for good measure in another episode that just revels in abuse & violation with a sexual aspect once again, but like, hey tuk don't do that, winston's such a Bad Influence for being like, shrug, kneejerk intervening with the Good Friendship where the One In Charge leaps in & Tells tuk the Correct thing to do. obviously there's also the tragedy that billions will Never let winston push back against Real Winners like rian or taylor in A Way That Matters (actually gets in their way at all) lol like. one thing that would have really been fun, winston should've literal kneejerk started physically fighting wags in either pertinent scene in 7x03 for real 110%. i wouldn't be like Gasp Violence Is Never The Answer if he just hit someone to hit them b/c fuck you. or broke anything on his way out etc etc. billions would Never let him. which is the other side of the same coin of [why he should get to]

tl;dr how great that winston's being "out of line" means he's basically always noticeably flouting & rebelling against the [He Deserves Abuse] agenda lol. that IS what i want. his being "beyond hope" like ohhh he's sooo stupid he doesn't realize how much he has the bad tastes & wrong interests & annoying personality He Will Always Be This Way like hell yeah!!! billions like oh no winston's personhood will never stay tamped down & locked away such that some godawful person tolerates keeping him in their inventory :( ohhh the ABA will never work :( that's right!!!!!!!!!! although they're not sad about it because it's about relishing the promise there will always be True Inferiors you can enjoy abusing with your righteous power over, but like well you wrote him escaping anyways even while dragging other "better" characters into standing around to serve axe's need for more than 1.8 employees and [crickets, reverberating cough, sneaker scuff] like. another ""wrong"" thing for winston to do, another thing for him to not "deserve," which is itself godawful actually lol like lord what it "rewards" its Good, Deserving characters with, no thanks. meanwhile winston's punishment is that he's autistic and """bad""" at being abused like lmfao good for him, fantastic for him, just what i want

[gender-euphowrya]

i love dreams because they range from utterly deranged nonsense to just casual harmless "oh ok" moments

[cosmicdreamgrl]

randomly came across this & figured we should suffer together @raplinenthusiasts

junghope let’s go!

[qinchez]

thinking about the difference in the way the boys express their love, especially after reading touring in love’s last ep …

zayne’s is sudden, unexpected, and teasing. his honeyed words and charm being up by 100, reflecting the way they’ve known each other for so long. his lies in taking care of you, the gentleness that he depicts only with you. his love exists in the bickering that’s akin to an old married couple and in the smallest of lingering touches — head pats, forehead kisses — and the domesticity that exists within being each others’ homes.

sylus’ is loud, extravagant, and bold. always going above and beyond in showing you his love, yet never making it seem as if it’s a big deal. knows exactly what you want to hear and will say it to you — but not before teasing you. he’s heavy on the confirmation part, always wanting you to express your feelings, if you like or dislike anything. his love will always be like a constant in a sea of changing variables.

rafayel’s is poetic, soft, and shows the beauty of love through his eyes. you’re every aspect of his life, even his passion for art. to him, love and art are intertwined, with you as an integral part of both. he sees you in everything, wether it’s in a small flower ready to blossom or the sun setting across the horizon, basking the ocean in its pretty hues. you exist in his very belief of lemurian love, forever etched in place, devoted wholly to you.

xavier’s is devotion, comfort, and warmth. the familiarity and domesticity of a shared routine being missed as the day progressed. you exist in each others’ circle so freely, so naturally — wether it’s your shared apartment building or work — so his love is familiar and kind. it exists within sharing home cooked meals together and taking sporadic naps after work, so no matter how mundane said routine ever is — you’re each other’s sanctuary.

[larrylimericks]

19Oct24

No matter how mad the word made us, It always held hope — a “hiatus.”

I’m sad for so many reasons — the fundamental sadness of death, and at such a young age; having to process the mortality of someone so extraordinary it seems they should transcend a fate as ordinary as dying; aching for his family and friends; angry that he had to navigate such a cruel world, one that continues to disrespect him in death. Yes, Liam was damaged and in turn damaged others; he had demons to face and amends to make — I like to think he would have, given a chance. His talent was so immense, and there was so much more to come. I believe he would have found a way to redemption, and then had such a beautiful renaissance.

The joy of being a 1D fan has always been policed and mocked. We’ve so frequently been laughed at, dismissed for the intensity of our love for the band. And now, the world wants to do the same with our grief, questioning its legitimacy, trivializing our feelings. But this loss is real. And this grief is valid.

And the grief of losing Liam is compounded by the grief of losing so much else. He wasn’t just a celebrity. They weren’t just a boyband. He was an integral part of an integral part of our formative years — no matter how old we were when we found them. So many of us are the people we are in part because of the people they are. Were. We’ve lost a beloved one, we’ve lost innocence, we’ve lost inspiration, we’ve lost a piece of our foundation.

We’ve lost hope.

It used to frustrate me, in retrospect, that they called it a “hiatus.” It felt dishonest — like a gentle lie to let us down easy. Why couldn’t they just say it was over? That being a boy band has a built-in shelf life, and it was time to explore solo careers. But now I understand the kindness in that word. For hope springs eternal, and it didn’t matter if it never came. All that matters was that it might. And “hiatus” wasn’t just for us; it held their optimism too. Especially Liam’s. It left the door open, even if only a crack, for the possibility of something more.

It’s been a remarkable gift to watch each one find his own path and his own voice. But when they announced a hiatus in 2015, they planted a seed of hope that someday we’d see the unrivaled magic of those boys on stage together again — the greatest team the world has ever seen. Maybe Zayn would join, probably not. Maybe it would’ve been a one-off thing for charity or a special anniversary. Maybe it would be in their 50s when the allure of easy money from a reunion tour was too tempting to resist. But surely, eventually, 1D would reunite in some capacity. I was excited to see how their once frenetic energy and youthful antics would meld with the mature solo artists they’ve become.

That hope sustained us through 18 months and eventually eight years, but now the hiatus is over. I would have happily clowned for every remaining day of my life than know this new certainty brought by the finality of Liam’s death. Maybe, someday, there will be a memorial performance. Maybe we’ll see three or four out of five come together to honor him — and what a poignant testament it will be that Liam was what could bring them together. Or maybe it will never feel right to them to take the stage without him, and that, too, will make all the sense in the world.

I wish I had an uplifting ending for this post. I don’t. I wake up and my first thought is “Liam isn’t here anymore,” and then I go about my day with that relentless realization lurking around the corner of every mundane task I do.

I haven’t been able to listen to their music yet. It’s a cruel trick that the thing that always brought comfort is now a trigger for grief. But I hope that will soon change. That, at some point, I’ll put on WMYB, get choked up at “You’re insecure” and second-guess my readiness. But then jump to History, and find solace in the lyrics that are currently rattling around my brain but aren’t ready to be heard yet: “This is not the end, this is not the end” … “We can live forever.”

❯❯❯❯

[hwajin]

☆°. — ғɪғᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs ᴘᴀsᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ | hhj

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hyunjin x afab!reader

𝐰𝐜: 3.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, cumming inside

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is barely proof read AND inspired by the bathrobe look in paris but also hyunjin in milan 🫶 hope you like it <333

You could feel his gaze on you. On your figure, your body. On your whole. The clear sound of his 2B pencil dancing along the cheap, store-bought paper echoed quietly in contrast to the music playing somewhere in the back, from the radio, or one of your phones, or from outside your hotel room altogether — it didn’t much matter to you, for his gaze on your body, on your figure, on your whole was all that did.

You weren’t sure if he was aware that you were aware — his eyes on you, the pencil scratching against the paper; you knew you were the object for his current spurt of creativity. The object of his inspiration. The object of his works — his very own and personal muse. You knew, and the knowledge, the very thought alone, made you dizzy, made you lose track of the sentence you were reading in the tour guide provided by the hotel.

Milan was beautiful. You were working your way through page after page, taking in museums and cathedrals, art galleries you knew Hyunjin would die to see. One page, his gaze on you, long, intimate, longing. Another page, eyeing the ‘Pinacoteca di Brera’, putting in a bookmark to later show him, and you felt his eyes on you again. Unbudging. Persistent. He either was unsure of your anatomy, or simply enjoyed to stare.

“I can feel you staring, you know.”

You looked up, and your eyes momentarily locked with his own, dark ones. Sparking. Speaking, without words. His hair had dried a good bit ever since he’d stepped out the shower, the white bathrobe snug loosely around his naked body leaving only so much to imagination. You looked at him, smiling, teasing, and he stared back — aware, and smug. His eyes wandered down to his art again — faint strokes of your face adorning the page and you wondered what had moved Hyunjin to capture you in this very moment — it was mundane, the moment, and you didn’t look any bit different – or, better, for that matter – than you did any other day. You were reading a tour guide, lazy, tired, solemn — you wondered where he saw the beauty in that.

“I know. I don’t mind that you can feel it.”

A pang to your heart, and he looked up from his page again, after adding lines here and there which as though magically transformed into plasticity, into your eyes and nose and mouth. You were fascinated by his art. You grew bashful at his words. And you were enamored by his eyes, his face. His whole; the way he looked. Milan was beautiful — but suddenly you forgot all about the tour guide, about the trip here you had bought for his birthday. You forgot all about the sights and museums and art galleries, for he sat across from you, sight enough, creating the only art you ever wished to look at.

You were sure you blushed, your skin acquainting the same colour of the roses blooming on the table in a vase. You could smell them, their scent spreading all around and luring you into depths so captivating you wanted to exist in them for eternity.

Only now you noticed the red paint by your lover’s side, only after thorough inspection of him. He parted his eyes from your own with a grin and continued on his drawing — on your drawing, ultimately, because you knew he’d gift it to you after finishing touches —; his hands reached after the brush laying beside his paper, and with a dip into beforehand-prepared water he activated the red colour, and let it swim across white paper. You couldn't take your eyes off him. You couldn’t take your eyes off the way his hands controlled the paint on his canvas, how the pigment drowned and spread and melted against the grey lines of pencil. Taking everything in, swallowing details, yet enhancing the object of the art, enhancing features of your face. Your cheeks suddenly shone red now on the white paper — and maybe it had been his aim after all, to make you shy, to make you bashful. Reality materialised onto paper, into art. Love did, for every brushstroke, every further pigment of red paint on white canvas meant love, for every further gaze of his, for reference or his own enjoyment you weren’t sure, meant adoration.

It took Hyunjin far longer to finish the painting than he had intended it to. Not because he was struggling with it — drawing you in all shapes and forms was a second nature to him by now —, and not because of exterior reasons altogether. Yet he sat and painted, away and away, adding a line here, colour there, watching you go back to the tour guide; he was sure that it could not possibly take you so long to finish it. That you were spending far too much time on each page, that you were eyeing Hyunjin far too often after every other sentence you read. That it wouldn’t possibly take you so long to inspect sights and places — but that you and him were set on the same mission, seemingly, on the same, interior goal. Finishing the tour guide, completing the painting — meant ending the moment. Ending the tranquility, discarding, ultimately, from admiring the other in the golden light of the slowly setting sun, shadows of trees and buildings casting paintings on your faces. The moment would end, the sun would set, would stop drowning the ebony furniture in your hotel room in golden showers, snow-white bed sheets in warm rays.

You looked up; Hyunjin looked at you, inspecting, one second, another, before he went back to his painting, as concentrated as he had stared at you. You let your eyes wander to somewhere behind him — you looked out the western window, which blind’s didn't do well in saving you from the blinding sun, though you wouldn't have wanted them to, admired the sunset, the city that laid in it, the foreign neighbourhood, the white sky. Maybe Hyunjin caught beauty there — the rich sun on your face. Your sparking eyes, your gleaming expression. Almost sacred, solemn. Meant for only the two of you.

You caught glimpse of the broken clock on the wall behind him, showing fifteen minutes past four — it had been showing fifteen minutes past four for the past two hours now. Or for the past three? How much later was it now, ever since you had settled into the hotel room? The sun had long started to set behind the horizon, though it had stood at its highest spot when you had first entered the single bedroom for two; yet maybe no time had passed at all. Maybe in his presence love was eternal, unending.

You stood up. You had been looking at Hyunjin for far too long; had been only looking at him, inspected his every move, reciprocated his every long, fixed stare, shuddering beneath it simply. You had studied his ever-drying dark hair, his ever-parting bathrobe, his naked collarbones, his paint-laced fingers. The way he stared you down, the way he left you vulnerable and naked with as much as a gaze – and you felt touch starved. His eyes burned on your skin, though it wasn’t sensation enough to satisfy you – you needed more of him. You would always need more of him.

Hyunjin’s eyes followed your figure as you made your way over to him. Without a rush, walking slowly; you bore all the time the world had to offer in your palms, it felt. You walked slowly, yet the scent of the red roses you passed filled Hyunjin’s senses in the breeze your movements created. The floral sensation all around him, your nearing body, your leisure attire, your hazy eyes – he was convinced this moment alone, the sight of you, the golden sun as though casting a halo above your figure, drowning you in warmth and beauty and love, this moment alone was entirely enough to eradicate each and every of his needs, any wish he’s ever wished and any promise he’s ever made; for this moment alone, and your heaven-sent presence was enough to fulfill all. Needs, wishes, promises. If it was you he could look at for eternities, if it was your body he’d have the privilege of holding close for the end of times he would never dare to ask of anything else.

The red paint on Hyunjin’s paper slowly dried out as you finally stood before him. It wasn’t, Hyunjin thought, the roses on the table in a vase which sent their scent across the room, after all – it was you. You smelt of roses. You smelt of vanilla, of red paint, of smoke, of Milan, now that you stood before him, now that he looked up at you, from beneath glasern eyes. You smelt like you, and you smelt like him; traces of his scent and his touch and his promise on your skin, and Hyunjin basked in it.

You didn’t waste much time before you made moves to take a seat on his lap; and not only did Hyunjin realize your attempts momentarily, he also embraced you without as much as hesitation. He found himself drowning in the feeling of your weight on him, allowing you to swallow him whole, allowing you to let your eyes explore. You let them wander from his face to his neck, from his protruding collarbones to his pointy shoulders – the white bathrobe was almost mocking now, doing so little in covering the man that it was nothing but ironic.

And you felt his hands on you, your body. Secure, sure of their position on your hips. Tall fingers, spacey palms; you felt their entirety on your body, and your red heart picked up its’ speed at that.

And you touched him, too. Your hands, cool and soft, found home on his face, each palming a cheek, closing him in. Your thumbs caressed his flush skin, tickled near his eyes, reached towards his parted lips, his hungry lips. Hyunjin looked at you, let you touch him, his face. Let you look at him. Let you make him wait on the kiss he so badly needed, let you bask in him, for he enjoyed nothing more than that.

Your eyes met, and you weren’t sure who granted the first smile, but both your mouths turned upwards, curling into softening features. Roses, red paint, Milan outside the window; though this moment contained of only you and him, and the broken clock, fifteen minutes past four, timelessness. You showed your teeth, your eyes squinting with your smile, and Hyunjin’s were the same.

“Hi.”

A whisper against quiet music and honking cars, angry passengers outside, and Hyunjin reciprocated with a chuckle. Then, a whisper as soft as the prior one, “Hi.”; and he pulled you in. Or maybe he reached for you, longed for you. Or maybe you both moved only enough for your lips to connect, finally, in soft passion. Vigorously, though not in haste, not in roughness. Forcefully, rather, impatiently forceful as you let your tongue dart out of your mouth so it could explore his, and it didn’t take the man as much as a minute to welcome you in, to invite you into himself. And you let your tongue dance with his own, in a waltz, or something faster than that, something less rhythmic – something freer. Your hands stood ground on his body, fingers digging into his shoulder as his dug into your flesh, in covered flesh by your aching hips. Your mouths moved against one another sloppily, and teeth dragging across lips, tongues easing off the sting right after, wet, loud, swallowing any sound which slipped past your throats. Quiet, still timid, breathy sighs which tasted of chocolate and shaky moans which were barely audible against exterior noise. You saw stars behind your eyelids – if because you squeezed them shut so tight it hurt, or because Hyunjin’s touch on your body, the bite he had just placed on your lower lip, and the way he pulled away right after, only for a second, less than that, to admire you with a smile before diving back into you, you weren’t sure, but there were stars all the same. Stars, and Hyunjin, darkening Milan behind the hotel room windows. Fifteen minutes past four. Timelessness.

Hyunjin pulled you closer. Impatience, or simply the need to have you nearer, more flushed against his body than you already were. His hands lay strong on your body, and he pulled you in, your cores coming in contact, hot, ignited, searching for more than this. Than clothed touches, more than the faint feeling of his erection against your sex. More than his hands in your hair, entangling long, warm fingers there, more than his teeth bruising your lips. You’d always want more – and you were glad that Hyunjin was no different. For his hands wandered, and his lips with them, kissing and nibbling where his fingers danced upon – your neck, your shoulders, then, your chest, unbuttoning your shirt one by one, not without a kiss to your skin with every further act of undressing. One button, a kiss, a gaze up to you beneath his lashes, a faint smile, a smug grin at your scrunched brows and staggered breath. Another button, another kiss, and his gaze fell back to your chest, watching your ever-exposing body, so impatient in his seat yet so unrushed. Taking his time. Feeling your bosom rise and fall against his lips, hearing your breath, your sighs, your heartbeat. Feeling hot – your skin was burning, your body was, and Hyunjin with it.

Your shirt was discarded onto the floor. Long forgotten, along with your shorts; Hyunjin’s bathrobe lay leisurely around him, half-opened, only carelessly shoved off his body yet not having borne enough patience to fully free him from it. Though neither of you cared. You let the fabric hang off the chair you were sitting on, the softness of it the only thing touching your skins besides each other's skin. You were closer now, much closer than before, though you barely deemed it possible. You sat right atop Hyunjin’s erection, his right hand resting against your inner thigh – he wasn’t touching yet, only teasing to, and your body grew hotter yet, needier. Your hips searched for friction, your fingers dug into Hyunjin’s scalp with a force which made the man groan out in deep satisfaction, and you kissed him with a fervor enough to move oceans – and he drowned in it, gave into you, kissed you back as feverishly, as messily.

He touched you, too. Finally, eventually, and you muffled a loud moan at the unexpectedness of it. Two fingers against your clit as Hyunjin’s tongue entered your mouth, as he forced your tongue to push against his own – to which you obliged, gladly. You moaned into him as you reciprocated his kiss, grinded your hips into his touch, into his hand. He answered with a sigh, with fingers which increased their speed, with a bite against your lower lip. It ought to hurt by now, your lower lip, with the way he was nibbling at it, though you believed that your body was immune to feel pain in relation to your lover. So, he bit away, nibbled on the sweet spot of your neck, on the lobe of your ear only to moan right into it, to send shivers down the entirety of your body, and you let him. And there was no better feeling, you believed.   

You disconnected your lips from his. There was a second where his mouth searched for yours, where his body hadn’t yet registered the emptiness your parting left, but then he looked at you, leaned back in his chair, eyes glassy, fingers circling around your clit slowly, mindlessly. As though it was a bodily reaction, an instinct. As though he wasn’t actively aware of his movements at all. His breath hitched in his throat, and he looked a mess – pupils blown out, eyes dark as night, hair disheveled, mouth red and puffed and bruising. There were faint love bites blooming on his neck already, ones that would turn a deep red, or a deep purple by the next morning. The sun had almost set behind the horizon, was casting its’ last, weak rays upon the planet – and those last, weak rays of golden light seemed all to land on the man beneath you. He shone, almost golden himself, chest and cheeks flushed red, and he was glowing. Glowing in the way he looked at you, glowing the smile he granted you, genuine, true. He waited on you, waited on a kiss, or on something else, something more, maybe. Yet he let you stare at him, let you admire him in the last, weak rays of sunshine that seemed to have been saved up for him, solely – and then you kissed him, unable to resist wide eyes and longing mouth, and he kissed you back. Touched you, and you let your hands wander down his body, not missing a single line on it, not missing an inch before your hand palmed his crotch. You could sit and kiss him forever, could bask in him and his body for eternity – but you were impatient, too, especially when it came to him, to your lover. When it was him, you lost control of yourself, of your body, of your soul. It belonged to him entirely, all of it.

He let you sink onto him. Hyunjin let you bury your face in the sweatiness of his neck, in its’ sensitivity, let you groan out into his ear as you felt him bottom out entirely. He let you adjust to him, and you let him hold you, against him, against his body, your heart against his own, chest to chest. You let him whisper sweet nothings, promises, and confessions, and entire worlds. You loved his never tiring tongue in moments of intimacy – he talked and talked and talked, words sweeter than honey could ever be, and sounds more sinful than anything you’d ever known.

You screamed out when he moved. Thrusting his hips into your own, up and deeper inside of you, and you struggled to keep your composure. Your arms snug tightly around his body, around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer – you melted into one as he kept moving into you, both hands keeping a steady position on your hips, to hold you in place, or to grant you stability, or to grant himself some. And the room erupted into a symphony of your voices, of your moans and grunts and sighs, whispers and whines of each other’s names. Your senses filled with everything that was him – his voice, deep and longing and loud in your ear, his hand bruising your flesh, groping at you so harshly you saw stars, his scent, his golden body, his mouth on your skin. Everything was him, his erection so very deep within you that it almost hurt, though not quite, his right hand which suddenly found its’ way to your clit again. Drawing figures eight there impatiently as his hips grew frantic, slowly losing rhythm.

Your body ignited. It was hot, it was wet and a mess, and it was fifteen minutes past four. The broken clock on the wall behind Hyunjin capturing you two in its’ timelessness, in its infinity. It had stopped solely for you, for your love, for your souls. Your eyes closed shut when Hyunjin bit against your neck, when his teeth grazed your skin just deep enough to not break it, to not draw blood, and you came against his body in shaking waves, with a broken moan which was swallowed by the man in an instant. You felt him fill you up as he groaned into the kiss, as he let his tongue enter your mouth in lazy manner, careless now of sloppiness, of the lack of coordination. He held you close, he thrusted into you tiredly, he let you hold him. He let you kiss him, just as tired, just as lazy, basking in him, in his taste, in his scent.

Milan was beautiful. Night began to drown the city in darkness, buildings and trees, cars and people and the world losing color, quieting down. But it was still fifteen minutes past four – and you sat in Hyunjin’s hold for an eternity longer, in hushed giggles and shy confessions, and loved each other throughout the entirety of the night.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

[drunkinyourbenz]

୨ৎ stars align. b.e

୨ৎ billie eilish x fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff and angst

୨ৎ note: Ironically listened to ‘she calls me back’ by noah kahan while writing this, don’t be fooled babe. also listen to i love you, keep that in mind!!! if you catch the astronomy by conan references yes you did. i love you all and you're very welcome in advance <333 not proofread

୨ৎ taglist: @47lake @st0nerlesb0 @n0vabug @darkside-0f-the-sun @asterisk-eyes (ask or comment to be added)

three times you called billie, and one she didn’t pick up. 

you called billie a lot. she was away on tour, so naturally, whenever both of you had a free minute, you’d be calling. if she wasn’t free, you’d be sending her videos and voice messages and photos of whatever you did in your day. at first, sending her a photo of the flowers growing on the footpath on your walk to work had seemed stupid to you, but it started a train of endless photos of mundane things that either of you found beautiful. it was a way of keeping each other up to date on your lives—other than just selfies. it was as if you were there, eating her breakfast with her and watching finneas while he recited a dramatic reenactment of his dream the night before. 

currently, it was nine in the evening in your time zone, and you had shark’s head resting on your chest. with the limited mobility you had with the dog on top of you, you reached for your phone and clicked on billie’s contact. you clicked on the call button, you wanted to facetime her so she could see both her babies.

it didn’t take long for her to pick up, and as soon as her camera had loaded, you saw an extreme close up of her eyes and the tour makeup she was halfway through taking off. “love!” she beamed, propping the camera up on the desk so she didn’t have to hold it. you tilted the camera down to show shark, and she practically squealed. “baby! oh my god, my baby shark.” she pouted as she took in how he had his head resting on your chest and his eyes half open. “that should be me?” 

you giggled, “with me or shark?” 

“both,” billie said as she continued taking off her makeup, you could hear the smile in her voice. “i should be sandwiched in the middle of you.” 

you hummed in agreement, hugging shark closer to him and kissing his forehead before scrunching your nose up. “he stinks.” 

billie rolled her eyes, “you’re so rude to him.” 

a scoff left your lips, “oh please, you’ve said exactly the same thing.”

“he’s my child, so that’s different.”

“actually, he’s my child too. and i think i’m his new favourite.” 

billie gasped with faux horror, “oh, keep lying to yourself.” 

you called billie whenever anything went wrong, when you didn’t know what to do, when you felt like your life was closing in on you. you were sitting on the ground beside your bed, your eyes staring blankly at the wall in front of you as your fingers fiddled together anxiously. you didn’t quite know what you were feeling, nor why you were feeling it, but you were overwhelmed and miserable. nothing seemed to be able to help except for the songs playing through your headphones that magically put everything you felt into words. 

you weren’t sure when the tears had started falling down your cheeks, but they were there. you could feel the cold salty trails down your skin, and you didn’t bother trying to wipe them away. the moonlight was casting a soft light over your room, dancing across your skin in a way that you would have perhaps thought was pretty had you been more aware of your surroundings. 

instead, you were aware of the pounding of your head and the racing of your thoughts, the feeling of your clothes against your skin, and the emptiness inside your head. you felt a level of numbness you hadn’t felt since you were seventeen, and you weren’t sure if anything would fix it. 

But then you thought of your girlfriend. billie. 

somehow, she always knew how to make things better. 

so, with shaky hands, you reached for your phone which had sat discarded on the floor next to you. it was only charged to eleven percent, but that was enough for you to call her. 

you tapped on her contact, calling her. she picked up in record time, her comforting voice filling your ears. “baby? it’s two am, you alright?” 

“mhm.” you hummed. you’d be content to simply sit there and listen to her voice for hours, but you knew you’d have to actually speak at some point—you were the one who’d called, after all. after a long moment, you sighed. “can you come over?” 

“yeah, of course. i’ll be there in ten. want me to stay on the call?”

and you did, but you knew your phone would die and you didn’t have the energy to find the charger, “no, it’s okay.” 

“okay, angel. hold in there, yeah?”

“yeah.”

you called billie whenever anything important happened in your life, such as getting accepted into your new job. you’d quit your old job a few months ago—it just hadn’t felt right. you weren’t happy working there, your boss was an asshole, and with the time and effort you put into it, you were atrociously underpaid. you talked to billie about it, and she assured you that quitting it would be the best. your happiness was both of your priorities, so it wasn’t long after that conversation that you quit. 

getting a new job had been harder than you’d thought—not necessarily because of your qualifications, more because you weren’t sure what would make you truly happy. it took some time, but eventually you found one that you felt would make your inner child giggle and kick her feet. 

you had applied, and then there was nothing left to do but wait. 

wait, and wait, and wait. 

it was hell. you got an interview, and after that, it was more waiting. you didn’t know what to do with yourself, an anxious feeling always sitting at the pit of your stomach. 

after what felt like months of waiting—but was more likely just a week and a half—you got the email. you read one line, and almost screamed, dropping your phone on your foot. 

once you picked your phone up again, you fumbled with it desperately for a moment, shaky hands navigating to billie’s contact. it rang for about thirty seconds before she picked up—upon second thoughts, you realised that she may have been in a meeting, but she always told you to just call her. 

“hi, my love-” billie’s sweet voice came through the phone, and you couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread across your lips. 

“i got the job.” 

billie squealed, “oh my god, baby! i knew you would, i’m so proud of you!”

an excited giggle fell from your lips, “i was so nervous-”

“but that’s okay, you did it.” 

“couldn’t have done it without you.”

“oh shut up, yes you could. take some credit, darling.”

you opened your mouth to speak again, but she continued. 

“we’re going on a date tonight. to celebrate. our restaurant, yeah?” 

you giggled again, unable to stop the happiness radiating from you, “yeah.” 

“perfect. i’ll book it now-”

you interrupted her before she could continue, “i love you.”

you could hear the smile in her voice when she responded, “i love you too.” 

billie was always the first person you thought of to call. even slumped against the wall drunk in a hallway at a loud, bustling party, she was the one who your fingers gravitated to in your contacts. your vision was slightly blurred, your mind unfocused, but somehow you knew to call her. maybe your brain had drifted to the other calls, maybe it was just a feeling. 

either way, that feeling was wrong. 

the phone rang twice before going straight to her voicemail. “hey, this is billie. leave a message. love you!”

you frowned, your head falling back against the wall behind you. why did the 'love you' feel so bittersweet?

“hey, bils. i miss you. a lot. call me back?” 

you didn’t know why you knew she wouldn’t. she wouldn’t call you back, she wouldn’t text you, she certainly wouldn’t be picking you up from this hell of a party. 

in fact, it was likely that you and billie would never call again. 

it was then that you remembered: billie wasn’t yours to call, and she hadn’t been in a long time. 

billie wasn’t your person any more, the two of you had fallen apart and she was no longer your shoulder to cry on, your partner in crime, your bird of a feather. she was no longer the one who could make you laugh louder than anybody else. she was no longer the person who would pick you up when you were drunk off your face and laugh at the way you slurred your words before falling asleep at your side. 

billie didn’t pick up, and it would be unfair to expect her to. 

maybe you needed to stop trying to force the stars to align when she had already found a new one, and that love burned brighter than yours ever could.

[perfectlyoongi]

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who takes showers with you just for the intimacy. it was the silence of the moment, the purity of the intimacy, the way you two felt so comfortable with each other with something that had become so vile and perverse by society, that made Taehyung venerate your baths together; no words, just Taehyung's gentle touch across your body, as you rest on his chest and feel the tranquility of your love. “i like this, you know? of our intimacy. how none of us feel obliged to be something other than ourselves.”

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who only trusts your opinion when it comes to his clothes. before leaving the house or when he goes shopping, Taehyung always asks your opinion about his outfit, patiently waiting for your honest reaction, never feeling bad when the feedback comes back negative — after all, he just wanted to continue to impress you, it was only your opinion that mattered. “tomorrow i have to buy a new coat. do you want to come with me? i would like to have your opinion.”

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who loves coming home and lying down with you, his head resting on your chest. Taehyung couldn't live a whole day without having your affection; in an extremely stressful and quite complicated job, it was in your arms that Taehyung found peace and serenity, the way you touched his hair, his face, his arm, took Taehyung to a distant land of dreams and rest. “today was so tiring. all i could think about was how you would be here for me and make me feel good again.”

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who takes your perfume with him on tour, just so he can deal with missing you. it was a simple memory, something that could last the long weeks of touring the world without ever losing its value; your perfume was intoxicating, something so delicate and beautiful that made Taehyung remember all the hugs and kisses and caresses and moments he had spent with you. “i promise i won’t spend it all. please. i really need something that reminds me of you or i'll go crazy. seriously!”

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who accompanies you on any and all purchases you make just to share some mundane time with you. whether it was for groceries or clothes, an electronic item or a gift for someone, Taehyung was always by your side, giving his opinion, holding your hand and always walking with a smile on his lips because he was next to the one he loved. “oh, do you need help picking a gift? i don't mind going with you. can i? i just want to feel normal for a moment. please.”

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who watches the stars and clouds with you while trying to discover shapes and meanings among them. lying on the grass, your head on his belly, you and Taehyung told stories with the various shapes you saw in the sky, laughter flowing as naturally as time passed, endless memories of tales created comforting your hearts. “that star is so bright! oh, and next to it those stars form a heart. see? even the heavens believe that our future will be bright.”

BOYFRIEND!TAEHYUNG who only said he loved you when you confessed first, a huge weight leaving his heart as soon as the words left his mouth. as soon as he heard your confession, Taehyung's heart began to beat quickly without having any time to assimilate what he just had heard, his words running after yours to try to embrace them. “oh, thank god. yes. finally. i love you. i love you. i love you so much. oh my god.”

[maple-the-awesome]

Another Link Crushes On You || Part 2/3

Part 1 ||

Pairings: Legend, Twilight, Wind x GN Reader

Overview: You've known Link for years - Well, a version of Link. Neither of you have seen yourselves as being anything more than friends, although it seems not all Link's think the same, in fact when you're introduced to the Chain, one of the boys falls pretty hard for you. I spun a wheel to let fate decide upon random pairs this time. Needless to say, I had a lot of fun with some of them😁

Zelda Masterlist 💚 Fandom Masterlist

Legend isn't a big fan of Skyloft which is something he decided rather quickly upon arrival - and no, it has nothing to do with the cold, thin air or hair-raising heights, although he’s also not a big fan of either. His problem lies solely on the cheerful atmosphere created by this village’s inhabitants. It’s all too easy going and mundane to fit an adventurer’s heart. Too familiar and painful, to boot. 

The others may think of him as aloof and, quite frankly, Sky might be a little offended, but Legend has no interest in exploring these islands or making friends with the locals. Never again. Instead of joining any guided tours or trading stories with inquisitive knights, he sinks into his own isolation, finding a quiet place to sit amongst the shore of Skyloft’s only large water source.

All by his lonesome, he’s free to find a good boulder to hide behind and tear away at his hair in a desperate attempt at calming his unsteady anxiety…That is, until he hears a sound - No, not a sound, a voice. A beautiful voice that doesn’t speak, but rather hums a delicate melody he’s certain he’s heard before, probably from Sky who has a habit of mumbling certain songs to himself while plucking his harp.

…And there you are, blissfully unaware of anyone else's presence by the lake as you approach the water's edge. Dropping a laundry basket in the sand, you carefully roll up your pant legs and kick off your boots, prepared to step into the cold water until you suddenly halt.

As if having developed some sort of sixth sense, you glance over your shoulder, quickly spotting the pink haired boy peeking at you from beside a boulder. The sight understandably startles you, yet despite how awkward this situation might look without context - what, to catch a total stranger apparently 'spying' from afar - you give him a kind, that be it nervous smile. People in Skyloft truly are too trusting for their own good.

"Oh hello there! …So sorry, I don't think we’ve met yet."

Legend sighs, realizing it would be creepier if he were to just ignore you. With his place of solace now ruined, he stands and dusts the sand off his tunic, "...That's because I'm not from around here."

"Oh?" You tilt your head cutely, likely confused as to what he could possibly mean, after all, where else would he have come from if not Skyloft? Looking him over, you take notice of his outfit, “Are you a knight? I see you have the uniform of one.”

The angel on Legend's shoulder begs him to be honest, after all there's no reason not to be. Naturally, Sky seems to be pretty well known around Skyloft, so maybe you wouldn't be too surprised to learn your local hero has become ensnared in another adventure, bringing home a handful of other heroes. You might even find Legend more interesting if he were truthfully, awed by the rare chance to meet someone outside of your own timeline...yet staying true to his own bad habits, he decides to dig his own grave instead:

"...Yeah, I’m a knight. I'm just usually really busy, so that's probably why you haven't seen me around, you know,” He explains boldly.

You furrow your eyebrows while finally stepping into the water, taking a handful of clothing items with you, "...Huh...I still could've sworn I knew everyone here, what, with the island being so small and all."

Legend cringes. He can't tell if you're simply speaking on your confusion or slyly catching him in a lie, although the uncertainty isn't enough to deter him, "W-Well, I don't live 'here' exactly. I live on one of the...outer islands - And I spend a lot of time there instead of here which would make it easy to miss me."

You give him a strange look that feels as if it could burn right through him, however you fortunately turn away before his heart can ignite, "...May I ask your name?"

"My...name?" He blinks as if that’s the strangest question you could’ve asked.

"I just feel a bit rude for never having noticed you before, but if I were to learn a name to put to the face, I doubt I'll ever walk past you again without a smile," And oh, how deadly your smile is, flashed over your shoulder so innocently, yet those eyes - They hold mischief behind them.

 "My name is Li - Ravio. That's my name," Another needless lie...

"Li Ravio?" You repeat, not looking very convinced, "That's certainly...a name, alright."

"W-Well, I didn't pick it!" Yes, yes he did...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense. It's a unique name, that's all, but that will make it easier to remember," You laugh at his misery, your eyes crinkling with the action. You then introduce yourself, your name sounding vaguely familiar, although Legend's in too much of a daze to think of why, "It's nice to meet you, Li Ravio."

He bites back a grumble, already regretting his life choices up until this point. Seriously, if he was going to give himself a cover name and story, couldn't he have picked something a little better? You probably think he's a weirdo, just showing up out of the blue with some half-assed backstory that sounds totally fake - Wait, what does he even care? It's not like he knows you! You're a random civilian from a timeline that comes generations before his own. If he wanted, he could march off and never see or think about you again...but does he want to?

Despite his previous desire for isolation, Legend remains standing there dumbly in the sand, entranced by the song you go back to humming while carefully scrubbing away at your laundry. You take no shame in your singing - which is good, because there's no reason to be. You sound nothing short of holy, and quite honestly, you match the look, practically glowing in the beams of sunlight. Even your movements are graceful, so much so that as you wade out of the water, you hardly disturb the water lilies around you.

"Where'd you learn to sing like that?" The question slips before Legend can help it, but there's no taking it back. You stop mid-step onto the sand, eyes quickly darting up to look at him in surprise. It's as if no one's ever been smart enough to give you that compliment before...or perhaps no one has ever sounded quite so astonished while saying it.

"My cousin and I sing every evening at the Lumpy Pumpkin," You explain, bashfully tucking a strand of hair behind your ear after dropping your laundry back into its basket and picking it up, "You should come by sometime. It’s on an island south east of here - Very cozy, and a great place to get to know new people, too.”

"I'll, um...think about it,” Legend answers awkwardly with a cough. Will they even be staying in Skyloft that long? How would he even get to another island, especially without anyone else following - Wait, why is he even considering this?! 

You seem to have lost some of your cheer. Perhaps that wasn’t the exact answer you were hoping to hear, however Legend, once again, has no way of taking it back.

“...Well, I, um, should get going. These clothes won’t dry themselves,” You mumble, gesturing to the basket you keep against your hip. Without waiting for any goodbye, you make your way up the shoreline, only stopping temporarily to shout over your shoulder, “Oh, and Li Ravio? I should probably tell you that Link was looking for you earlier! He wanted to make sure all you boys knew not to get too close to any edges! It’s quite the fall!”

Legend doesn’t respond, too stunned to form words as you chuckle to yourself before skipping off on your merry way. So you were aware of his lies the entire time!

Faced with tired bones and a sinking sun that plummets the world into night, the Chain has no choice but to call it a day (not that they have any objections towards rest). They practically collapse where they stand, taking a few greedy minutes to catch their breaths before picking up the work once again.

Setting up bedrolls, sparking a fire, organizing supplies, and chopping vegetables, the heroes are kept active for a decent hour or two until they can take another breather. Gathered around a wonky circle, their conversation is light and mostly focused upon their hunger which is only fueled by the pleasant smell of soup until it can be dished out.

About half the boys have bowls in their hands before a sudden snap of a twig causes them to trade their meals for weapons, senses on heightened alert especially when a stranger soon steps out of the shadows. At such a distance, the fire's light only barely outlines their silhouette, but that’s apparently all it takes for someone in their group to realize this is no actual stranger who's stumbled across them.

Hyrule's face lights up as he exclaims your name. Your own reaction is quite similar, switching from caution to excitement within the same second that you remove the hood from your head. The way you both move to greet each other, holding the other's arms with bright smiles and disbelief is quick to calm the other heroes. If you're a friend of the wary traveler's, then you'll be a friend to them.

"I thought it was your voice I heard from the trail, but then again, I haven't heard you in ages! And to find you in such a large group of companions? Never before! Where have you been for all this time, old friend?" You seem to go through several emotions all at once - a steady flow from relief, confusion, sorrow, and joy. Hyrule is hardly any better.

"It's a long story, but I haven't exactly been around to be seen," When you give him a bewildered look, he’s quick to brush it off, "I'll tell you all about it some other time - Hey, why don't you join us for dinner? There's plenty to go around!”

Your eyes instantly widen as you wave your hands in front of yourself, your smile suddenly strained, "Oh, no - no thanks! That's a kind offer, really, but I, um, ate not too long ago -"

"- Pss! He's not the one who does the cooking here," Someone whispers. At that, your shoulders visibly relax.

"...Oh...Well, uh, now that I think about it, it was really more of a light snack earlier. I suppose I could stand to eat something more."

Hyrule beams at this, clearly happy to have someone he knows so well stick around even if only for a night. It's then that he finally introduces you to the group, explaining that you're a fellow traveler he often crossed paths with during his own adventures. Seeing how dangerous this time can be, you had a habit of sharing supplies, camps, and stories to feel less alone in the world, so it's no wonder that you'd be so relieved to see each other safe again.

"Mind if I sit by you, stranger?" You ask, peeking around at Twilight while Hyrule grabs you a bowl of soup. Despite your tired eyes and worn expression, you still manage a friendly smile that causes the rancher to nearly choke on his spoon.

With a cough and blush, he scoots to the side, probably making far more room than you actually need, "...Not one bit."

"Thanks!" Fortunately, you don't seem to think anything of his reaction as you gratefully take a seat nor do you take any notice of the way he steals another curious glance at you.

Seeing as you're a new face within the group, it's only natural that you become the center of attention. Questions are thrown your way left and right, many interested to know your story which you modestly tell with little fanfare. Apparently, you've been a traveler for the last few years, wandering from place to place while making a living off trading the resources you collect throughout your journey. Before then, though, you used to live at your family's ranch.

"You grew up on a ranch?" Twilight asks a bit too eagerly once the topic's mentioned, earning himself a lot of strange looks including one from yourself, although you at least seem more forgiving than his friends, quickly letting your confusion go with a gentle nod.

"I did - For most my life, actually," That's all you say before going back to stirring your soup which you're thankful not to find any bone fragments in.

"What made you move on from that life?" Perhaps it's an out-of-line question a gentleman shouldn't be asking, after all he's no more than a stranger to you, but learning a pretty thing such as yourself may have a similar background to himself makes him forget all manners.

"...It was destroyed by monsters some time back," You answer simply while taking a bite.

Twilight bows his head, shame burning inside, "...Oh. I'm real sorry to hear that."

Despite his fears of having caused offense, you merely shrug off any discomfort, “My family made it out alright and we make do with what we have now. Can't go complaining about that."

"...I'm from a farming village myself - From Ordon,” He goes on to tell in a quiet ramble, “I’ve worked there as a ranch hand practically all my life, overseeing the goats we’re famous for. It’s quaint, and about as far from the big towns as you can get, but homely. And the people there - Why, I don’t think you’ll find anyone more kind and welcoming. Like livin’ in one big family.”

Once again, this probably isn't something he should be saying. If it were him, he'd be beyond distraught to lose the ranch to the point that any reminders would send him spiraling, yet to his continued good fortune, you take his story for what it's meant to be, setting down your spoon with a comforted smile.

"I'd love to see that…" Orondian, how you enchant him with such a soft gaze, taking him hostage in the sea of your sparkling eyes. If Hyrule's tales are any indication for the horrors of this broken world, you must be a true diamond in the rough to be from a place so cruel. Any less personal control and Twilight wouldn't hesitate to ask you to join them - to come along on this adventure and see how beautiful life will someday be. He could take you to Ordon and show you all he’s come to adore - let you breathe the fresh air scented like hay and pine while overlooking the familiar green fields you’ve dearly missed. Who knows? Maybe you’d even ask to stay. 

“I’d love to show you…”

"...Is this still a group conversation ooor?" Wild pipes in awkwardly from Twilight’s side, seeming to speak on everyone else’s discomfort as the poor, stricken young man loses himself to this yearning in his heart. This might be a long night and an even longer day tomorrow if they get stuck listening to him fawning over you...

You’re starting to doubt this shift will ever end…

It feels like you’ve been stuck in here for hours with nothing to do aside from sit at the counter and beg the sun to set just a little faster. You've already restocked inventory twice, organized stock to perfection, and swept the floor until your broom broke…If this keeps up, your sanity might just break, too.

Ringing from the front door’s bell gives you at least something to do as you sigh your typical greeting: "Welcome to Gia's General Store, where we have all your - LINK?!"

With a complete shift in mood, you happily leap up from your stool and race around the corner to meet your friend halfway in a tight embrace that you've both gone far too long without, "It's been ages! How have you been? Where have you been?"

Four chuckles at your eager questioning, "It hasn't been that long."

"Really? Because I swear five years have passed from this shift alone…" You groan dramatically before breaking away from the hug to get a solid look at him. Despite the months that have passed, he looks no different than when he had first set out. Good. You like him just the way he is anyway. 

"Please tell me you're planning on sticking around for a bit. I’ve been dying for something interesting to happen around here and your stories are just the salvation I need! I only have an hour to go until I can close up, though I'm afraid I might stab myself with a fire arrow before then. It’s been terribly boring!” 

That, Four doesn’t doubt. Your home village is as serene as they come which isn’t always a favorable trait in the judgement of two teenagers with more energy coursing through their bones than they know what to do with. Of course, he’s probably done no good helping matters by always filling your head with envious dreams of adventure and mystery. 

“We’ll probably be spending the night in town,” He tells you, much to your relief, “In the meantime, we have quite the list of supplies that we need to restock on, if you don’t mind.”

"We?" Somehow you only just notice the group of young men who managed to sneak into the store after Four. A few of them are already looking around at the items you have to offer, while others wait patiently with the hope that they'll be introduced to...Well, whoever you are to their dear friend.

"I would introduce everyone, but we all share the same name."

"All of you?" You look at Four in shock, yet he nods as if it's the most normal thing in the world to him...Then again, it probably is at this rate. Honestly you shouldn't be that surprised yourself. This is Link you're talking to.

"...Huh...Well, feel free to have a look around, I guess, and let me know if you need anything in particular. Arrows are buy one get two free right now, and fully in stock, too, since Link - Er, this Link, hasn't been in town to buy us out,” You explain to the group, jutting a thumb towards Four who rolls his eyes.

Now, usually you become a bit overwhelmed whenever large groups enter your shop, but seeing as these guys are Four's friends, you feel comfortable letting them wander freely. It helps that they seem to know exactly what they're looking for, too, making your job all the easier.

For the most part, the group allows Four and you privacy to catch up, only interrupting your conversation occasionally whenever they have questions about your prices or the quality of your goods, however you aren’t blind to the curious glances they spare you even in silence. No doubt they’re wondering how deep your relationship with Four goes, finding it endearing how at peace the young hero has become in your simple presence.

Most of these glances are quick enough, although you can’t help noticing that one of the boys seems to lack the same subtlety as his friends. Each time you steal a peek through the corners of your eyes, you spot him staring in your direction with an awed look overtaking his face. Whenever someone else nudges him to ask a question, he blinks rapidly with a stammer before bashfully looking away.

‘Cute…’ You’re tempted to think, but then you take notice of how young the boy seems to be. He must be at least a few years younger than Four and you - still a just child, at least by your standards which is an upsetting thought since context clues point to him being a hero, too. If that’s true, that must mean he was as young as Four was when he first set out on all this hero business himself, if not even younger. Poor kid…

Soon enough, Four confirms your suspicions about his traveling companions’ identities, telling you all about the strange portals they’ve traveled through and the journey they’ve been on up until this point. It was mere hours ago that they found themselves this close to home and, well, he couldn’t bear to pass by without seeing you or his uncle.

“Smart. I would’ve been livid had I found out you were in the area and didn’t stop by,” You elbow Four who pushes you back with his shoulder playfully before suddenly glancing behind you. Following his attention, you find the youngest hero standing there shyly, a minish feather necklace in one hand and a small pouch of rupees in the other.

Wind startles, seeming to have not expected your turn, “I, uh, wanted to know how much this was - um, is…So that I can buy it, if I may - for my little sister!”

You notice Four hiding his smirk behind his hand, yet you elect to ignore him for now, instead giving the younger boy your full focus with a kind smile, “How sweet of you. Consider it on the house, kid.”

“R - Really?” He brightens with possibly the widest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“‘course. Think of it as payment for helping my friend here find his way home safely.”

“Wow, thank you miss!” Oh goddesses above, his smile is adorable! He reminds you of the village children who often come here seeking sweet treats, such a simple delight to create lasting joy in their hearts. How you wish you could return to those days yourself - to no longer bear the weight of the world and its troubles in your thoughts. Alas, you could never so skillfully rewind time, but at least you can help protect that same innocence in others, even if only for a moment.

And protect it you do. Even late into the evening, Wind still cherishes that necklace in hand, carefully inspecting its details while kicking his feet giddily in memory of you, the pretty shopkeeper from Four’s Hyrule.

Sure, it probably isn’t that big of a deal. You gave the entire Chain a rather generous discount on their supplies despite their protests, but he was the only one who received your kindness personally without having to share. No one else aside from Four had the joy of seeing your beautiful smile directed his way, your expression soft and comforting like a warm breeze on the summer’s beach. 

He hadn’t lied. He does plan on giving the necklace to Aryll once this journey is over, but until then, he’ll probably admire it a little longer, at least until this crush of his settles within his heart.

[girliism]

girl dad!art who enjoys waking up extra early to make you and your daughter character pancakes.

art made a promise to himself that after retiring he’d commit time to being a stay at home dad. and he loves it, all the mundane things he use to miss out on.

he would spent hours practicing on your daughters hair. trying all kinds of braids and ponytails even though it ended up a tangled mess that you had to comb out the sounds of your husband and daughters laughter was worth it.

there use to times when art would go on tour where you and your daughter would curl up together both missing him deeply.

your daughter often ranted to you about how she felt as though she knew her dad only through pictures and phone calls. your heart broke for her. the next day you at arts hotel room watching his eyes well up with tears as you told him what you daughter muttered to you in her sleepy haze.

the next day he was having a long talk with tashi about how this would be his last tour. his daughter needed him and he intended on being there.

and so early mornings on the court was traded in for carpooling lily and his daughter to school.

don’t get him wrong he still plays tennis he’s not letting their at home court go to waste. dragging his daughter on the court laughing when she whines about him not playing fair. “daddy, you said you’d go easy.” she pouts lose curls pulled up into a ponytail. “i know i know, i’m sorry. you ready for the next serve?”

something art never thought he’d find interest in was cooking, but he loves it. he especially loves the face you make when you come home to a fancy dinner your daughter spending the night at tashi’s house meaning just you and art are home.

slightly tipsy off the red wine stomach full from dinner and skin all soft and smooth from the bath the two of you just shared. you and art end the night tangled up together under the sheet lazy kisses and thrust.

“i love you” “i love you too, art”

(i love girl dad art so much i just know he’s like the best husband and father ☹️)