#please forgive the formatting

[justskulkingaround]

I’m so fucking angry. I’m just talking to my phone right now so if this is just gonna be an unedited paragraph I don’t really care. I’ve made sure to block both of them on fucking Tumblr. I don’t give a shit anymore. They can’t handle being called. shitty friends I understand I didn’t bring it up in the best way, but I was actively watching my spouse. Have breakdown after breakdown after breakdown after breakdown over this whole thing but they can’t stand to be called. Shitty friends and anytime they fucking talk about it it was more about how I handled it incorrectly more than the fact, Spouse was going through depressive episodes because of them and any apology was only ever fucking footnote. I’m so angry. I’m so done I’m done and I’ll vent whatever but I’m so angry.

But oh no, I was being problematic because I wasn’t handling at the best bitch you can’t be all about how you need to accept people when they’re not doing great and then feel so unsafe bitch you could’ve added them to the group chat if you wanted to I don’t I don’t care you could’ve I didn’t have to, but you wanted to make me Screenshots like the way that a 15 year-old does a callout post to make sure to send to my spouse is if I haven’t been telling them everything you both assume that they know nothing and they know everything should’ve stopped me 

And the last text to Spouse about breaking off the friendship, the apology to them was still a footnote what the fuck and sure I wasn’t being the most polite, but I was done watching my Spouse be walked over over and over and over again, and I guess I should be expecting that the friendship was over because oh my God, one of them got hit so hard in the ego that they couldn’t take it, like four years, but oh no the long time friend picking the new BFF and the person who fucking flirts with them while they’re in a relationship over anything else? 

I can’t I can’t believe this maybe I can whatever

And they felt so unsafe being told that they were wrong because they were wrong 

[blushouyo]

EGO DEATH

[sentientcave]

Please Say Yes

Part 5 - Good Friends

Read on AO3

Contains: John Price x OC (Chelsea), This is just cutesy nonsense, low-stakes romance, pregnancy, breeding kink, daddy kink, alcohol, smoking, divorce mentions, annoying ex, Slight scheming (mutual), Good vibes all around, a little talk about leather working

< Previous Chapter ~ Chapter Index ~ Next Chapter >

~3.2k - 18+ - MDNI

You’re a good friend.

It shouldn’t have bothered Chelsea the way it did. It was a nice thing to say, and they weren’t anything more than that. She didn’t want anything more than that. She had no plans to start dating again any time soon, if ever again. Friendship was good. It didn’t have to be more than that.

But when she tucked herself into bed, wearing nothing but underwear and that big flannel shirt that smelled sinfully like him, smoke and whiskey, warm, spicy cologne and a hint of sweat, it was impossible not to think of his big hands brushing her neck or the way he tugged her into his side during the movie. The way he’d looked at her in the darkness… Maybe she was just reading into it.

She could still ask him to father her baby, at least. That wasn’t outside the realm of things she could ask a good friend for. And if he offered (she couldn’t bear to think of suggesting it, no matter how nice it could be), she definitely wouldn’t say no to a more traditional donation.

And if he wasn’t interested, maybe one of his friends would be. She didn’t know them as well, and the thought of asking a near stranger to help her make a baby was humiliating, to say the least, but they were all handsome, and nice, and would probably only tease her about it a little.

Chelsea hummed, turning over in bed. She was getting ahead of things. There was no need for contingencies yet. She hadn’t even broached the topic with John.

It didn’t take long to fall back to sleep, at least, even with the questions flapping around her head with soft wings, moths circling a singular thought that she couldn’t stand to look at straight on. Whatever flame burned at the centre of things, it would last long enough for her to identify it later.

———

It was nice to wake up slow, in her own bed, knowing that the house was empty except for her. No more Derek, snoring away in the den, to snap at her for making noise, or to make a mess of the kitchen and leave it for her to deal with in the morning— In fact, the kitchen was cleaner than she had left it. John or his friends had tidied up after themselves before they left for the night, which was awfully nice of them.

She boiled the kettle and measured coffee and water into her french press, humming happily, glancing through the window at John’s house, waving when she saw him at his own window, holding a mug. He grinned back. Chelsea briefly lamented the fact that he was too far away for her to see the way the lines around his eyes fanned out— It was one of her favourite things about his face— and turned to press the plunger down and pour herself a cup of coffee. When she looked around again, the other boys had crowded into the space beside John.

She waved again, and took her coffee upstairs with her while she got dressed, laughing to herself. They were nice guys, even if a bit enthusiastic.

She headed straight outside once she’d thrown on a sundress with a low back and a halter neck, and set her coffee on the picnic table while she applied sunscreen. She was too pale to risk an hour or two in direct sun without it, and, well, if her neighbour behaved predictably (and he usually did), she could ask a favour that might further her plans.

“Good morning!” he called out as he stepped out the back door, still holding his mug and now wearing the all too familiar boonie hat he usually wore outside. His friends followed close on his heels.

“Hi, John,” Chelsea returned. “Hi, boys.” She took her coffee and the bottle of sunscreen over to the wall that separated the two properties. “Perfect timing. Could you give me a hand? I just need someone to put sunscreen on my back— I can mostly reach, but I don’t want to miss any spots. It’s supposed to be another sunny day.” She set everything down on the wall and started gathering her hair up into a bun, enjoying the surprise on their faces as they realized that the imprint of her heart-shaped nipple piercings showed through the thin fabric of the dress, and also that her armpit hair was dyed the same colour as her hair.

“Christ,” Soap groaned, biting his first knuckle and turning in a sharp circle. “Tryin’ ta kill us, hen.”

“Hm?” Chelsea gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look, like she had no idea what he was talking about. “It’s just sunscreen. I can manage it myself, if it’s such a—”

“No, no, I’m happy to help,” John said quickly, setting his mug beside hers. “Anything you need, sweetheart.”

“Nice commitment to pink,” Gaz said, diplomatically not mentioning the nipple rings. “You’d almost think it grows that colour.”

Chelsea sat down on the wall, grinning over her shoulder at him. “I wish it did. Would save me a lot of money on hair dye.”

John handed her mug to her, one hand braced on the wall on the other side, his whole body leaning a little closer than was strictly necessary. “Money well spent.”

John, once again showing up Derek without even trying. Derek had always wanted her to go back to a natural colour, and he’d always been on her to fully shave off all her body hair. She’d just laughed off his snide little comments, never paying them much mind or taking him all that seriously. “I always thought so,” she agreed. “What’s the point of life if you’re not having a bit of fun with it?”

“Looks like yer havin’ more’n just a bit of fun,” Soap said, sitting on the wall as well, gripping the edge so that he could lean back over her side and grin at her some more, as well as take a few more unsubtle glances at her chest.

“I try to.” Chelsea tensed slightly as John started spreading sunscreen over her shoulders, forgetting for a moment what she had asked him to do. She relaxed almost as quickly, rather enjoying the feeling of his strong hands moving over her exposed back. “Have to have some fun and frivolity here at home for you lads to fight for, eh?”

“Well worth it,” Gaz said, leaning against the wall on the other side. “What are you and all your hard fought freedoms up to today?”

“Weeding the garden, then I’m going to make a ton of blank keychains for the faire this weekend. Not the most exciting, but they’re a good draw. I was thinking about doing custom stamps, like names or whatever, while I’m on site, but I might not have the hands for it.” She bit her lip to keep herself from making an embarrassing sound while John’s hands slid up the back of her neck.

“Did you get your ears yet?” John asked. “Or do you plan on wearing a hat?”

“No I didn’t—” She stopped mid-sentence, momentarily forgetting how to speak when John rubbed a bit of sunscreen onto the tops of her ears. There was no explaining the way desire rolled down her spine like beads of condensation down the side of a glass. She just suppressed the shiver and murmured her thanks instead.

Simon, blessedly, came to her rescue with a distraction, stepping fully over the low wall, gently pushing a tall patch of flowers out of his way. “You want some ‘elp with the keychains?” he asked. “Wouldn’t mind learnin’ ‘ow. Even ‘f’it’s just basics.”

Chelsea beamed up at him. “Really? I could use the help. I ran through all my back stock.”

“Are you gonna let the rest of us re-tile your bath?” Gaz asked, leaning further over the wall. “We really want to.”

“Why? Don’t you have anything more important to do?” Chelsea stood up and brushed her hands over her skirt. “You’d think you’d have plans for your leave.”

He shrugged. “Not really. Already visited my mums last week. Think Tav saw his family already too.”

“Aye. I cannae stay with them long, I end up babysittin’ half the time.”

“Lot of kids in your family?” Chelsea asked. “Must be nice.” She darted into the shabby litle garden shed to get her gloves and basket of tools, and settled down at the edge of the garden bed.

“Oh aye, nice to spend time with the bairns, but if ah’m goan all tha way to Glasgow I’d like to see some friends too, ye ken?”

“Din’t know anyone else could put up with you,” Simon dead-panned.

“Oh yer askin’ for it, ye wee big bastart. Dinnae make me come over the wall tae sort ye out.” Soap swung one leg over, so he was sitting astride it, facing Chelsea and Simon without having to twist. “Dinnae want ta embarrass ye in front of the hen.”

Chelsea rolled her eyes and looked from Gaz to John, biting back laughter. “Are they always like this?”

“All the time. Can’t leave ‘em alone for more’n a few minutes or they start fuckin’ or fightin’,” John said, sipping his tea . “Right nuisances over comms too.”

They bantered back and forth while Chelsea worked her way down the garden bed, enjoying the pleasant morning and the company too. It had always been nice talking to John over the garden wall (and it still was), but there was something inexplicably cozy about having all four of them there, like she had been added to a big, unconventional family in an instant. They all ended up on her side, Soap succumbing to Simon’s taunting and wrestling him in the grass, Gaz hopping over to referee before he was dragged into the scuffle. John was the last over, crossing only when she invited him, so that she could work on the other side of the yard. He sat down on the bench on that side, keen blue eyes watching both her and his boys, looking thoroughly content.

He did manage to talk her around to letting him and Gaz re-tile the bathroom. Once he realized that she’d bought the tiles over a year ago, because Derek had promised to help her with the project, there was no talking him down. He was stubborn when he wanted to be, and she had to admit that I wasn’t so bad to have a bunch of handsome men clamouring to help her with her projects. And, well, they made it almost feel like she was doing them a favour, just by giving them something to do.

After she very quickly took everything out of the bathroom, Simon followed her into the workshop while Price, Gaz and Soap went to the hardware store to buy grout and anything else they needed, and happily settled in to work, cutting strips of leather and sectioning them into smaller pieces. He wasn’t much of a talker, but the silence that stretched between them was far from awkward. It was just nice.

John popped into the room briefly to let them know they were back, setting Chelsea’s borrowed keys on the worktable for her. It would probably be worthwhile to give him the spare set— She usually had his, after all. But of course, he was also gone so often, it wouldn’t do her any good in an emergency if he had her keys back in the Hereford barracks when she needed them.

She sighed, focusing back on her work, tooling a design onto a pair of cuffs. Simon stood up to stretch, leaning over her shoulder to look at what she was doing.

“You never did show us all the fun leather,” he said. “You do nice work.”

“I think I owe you boys lunch and dinner, I’ll get my tablet out and show you my portfolio while we eat.” Chelsea tilted her head back to look at him. He’d taken his mask off again when they came inside, and she hadn’t fully studied his face yet, like she was encroaching, somehow, just by looking. He hadn’t fully taken it off at all the night before.

But he seemed at ease with her now, leaning on the back of her chair, dark eyes watching her as she looked at him. He was handsome in his own way, but chewed on, scars marking up his angular face, nose broken a few times, some teeth chipped and at least one missing, left of his canine. “Olright.” He didn’t move, however. Chelsea waited, and after a moment, he continued. “Skipper really likes you.”

“I like him too. He’s always been a good neighbour.”

“Tha’s all?”

“A good friend too.”

“Hm.”

Chelsea narrowed her eyes, mock-suspicious. “Is there something else you expect me to say?”

“There somethin’ else you’d like to say?”

“Nothing worth saying.”

“Hm.” He moved his chair closer to hers and sat down again. “Why’s that?”

Chelsea set down her bevel and maul, turning toward him. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious about you. Price talks sometimes. ‘e never liked your ex.”

“Derek never liked John either. Or the rest of you. Guess you met at the pub once?” Chelsea asked.

“Yeah. Bout a year an’ a ‘alf ago. ‘e was a prick. Complained about you. Tried to get John to agree, and ‘e wasn’t ‘avin’ it. Liked you enough to lay the man out for your honour.”

Chelsea laughed. “Derek said John punched him. I didn’t believe it, after he dragged his drunk ass home. Thought he was just trying to stir up trouble.”

“Does it change anything for you?”

“No. Just makes me angry, I guess. It’s like Derek never even liked me, you know? So why did he ask me to marry him? Why bother going through all the trouble, if I wasn’t what he wanted?”

Simon thought about it for a long moment, dark eyes fixed on her. “Probably din’t want anyone else to ‘ave you. Bloody selfish, that.”

“Sure sounds like Derek. Always wanted me to share everything, but didn’t think he needed to do the same.”

Simon hummed, running his fingertips over the edge of the table idly. “You good at sharin’ then?”

Chelsea snorted. “Sure. I think that’s a playground lesson. Are you?”

“Course. Gotta be, with Johnny. Poor mutt’s too excitable to keep to myself.”

“That is not what I meant!” Chelsea laughed, picking her tools back up again. “That’s a very different kind of sharing.”

"Not so strange these days. Lot more common than you might think."

"If it works for you, it works. I'm certainly not one to judge. Guess I can see the appeal."

Simon got back to work cutting the longer strips to size. "Yeah?"

"I just think it's rare to find the right mix of people. When I'm in love I just want to be around all the time, and I would need partners that like being around each other. And then I want to have kids, so that's not exactly compatible." She shrugged and got back to work as well, gently tapping the end of her tool with the maul, cutting under the edge of a leaf shape to give it depth. "I figure I'm just out of the dating game for good."

"Shame. You're cute. Have some friends that'd love a girl like you."

"Yeah? Well if I change my mind I'll let you know."

They returned to companionable silence for a while, and then Chelsea set down her own work to show Simon how to dye the strips, and let him work on that while she made lunch. Simon was an interesting person. She’d never met anyone who quite so easily balanced on the line between bluntness and subtlety, like he was always trying to speak plainly, but also held himself back.

She finished making lunch and went upstairs to let them know it was time for a break, and collected her tablet, flicking through folders as she followed John back down the stairs.

It only took Soap a few moments of flicking through pictures before he grinned at her across the table. "You do all your own modeling, eh hen?"

"Mostly. I borrowed my friend Jan's husband for a man's body when I needed one."

"I'd be happy to volunteer in future," Gaz offered. "I've been told I look pretty good with my shirt off."

"So noted."

"You actually intae this stuff, hen?" Soap asked.

"Oh absolutely. That's how I got into making it, to be honest. Wanted cuffs that weren't made of that gross flakey plastic 'leather', and then I made a nice strap. And then I started doing things for friends, and it kind of spiraled into a whole business." The early attempts had been clumsy, unpolished, but she had discovered a real passion for working with her hands. "I was so happy when I got to the point where I could support myself. It's not always easy but it's better than waitressing."

"Make your own hours, yeah?" Gaz said.

"That's a nice part. I also love being the boss."

John gave her an inscrutable look, but said nothing. He hadn't looked through the photos yet, letting the other three crowd around the tablet first.

"I think the costume work might be my favourite now though. I love making armour." She leaned her chin into her hand, sighing. "It's very fun, people have such interesting ideas for it. I love a challenge."

"Got a costume portfolio too?"

"That one's mostly online. My main Instagram is full of that work, since it's all ostensibly safe for work."

"Very cool," Gaz said, handing the tablet over to John. "Can we come with you to the ren faire? We can help out."

"Aren't you tired of helping me yet?" She teased.

"Never." Gaz dropped back into his seat beside her, grinning, and resumed eating his lunch. "Especially if you keep feeding us."

"Well, you haven't complained about my cooking yet, so I probably will." Chelsea leaned over toward John, biting back a grin at his serious, almost studious expression as he looked at a picture of her hands in a pair of tooled cuffs. She flicked to the next one, a close up of a pink collar with a heart pattern stamped onto it, the heart-shaped tag engraved with the word babygirl. “That’s one of my favourites. Almost kept the collar.”

“Which one?” Soap asked.

Gaz leaned over to look. “Pink one. Babygirl.”

Soap nodded sagely. “Aye, tha’s a good one. Too bad ye didnae keep it. Suits ye.”

“It’s certainly on brand for me,” Chelsea agreed. “I just think hearts are cute.”

John hummed in agreement, flicking to the next photo. “You do really nice work, peaches. Pictures are well done too.”

Chelsea beamed at him. “Thanks, John. I’m glad you think so.” If he liked those, he would probably really like some of her outtakes, the larger photos before she cropped them down to just the relevant parts, or the boudoir photos she took whenever she splurged on a cute lingerie set. But she wasn’t sure that she wanted to show everyone else. Maybe once she got a bit more used to them.

It seemed an inevitability, at this point. But still.

“Are you lads serious about wanting to come to the Ren Faire?” she asked, changing the subject. “Because we’re going to need to discuss what you’ll be wearing.”

Title card made on Canva - Image Credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 Banners by @/cafekitsune

[palerick]

“I won’t leave and you can’t make me.”

{ Cryptid Rick is @rick-t-4013 }

[inksandpensblog]

Worldbuilding for the bug!Purple AU is hard because on one hand there’s what the beetlesticks perceive to be happening and on the other hand there’s what’s actually happening in a game-mechanics sense. And I keep crossing the wires ^^’

For example:

Upon world generation, beetlesticks spawn naturally from blocks of flowering azalea leaves, which naturally generate as a part of azalea trees.

Beetlefolk don’t know this, though, since as in-game entities they don’t grasp world-generation as a concept;

they have their own creation myth, and it doesn’t involve azalea flowers at all

(but it is alarmingly close to the truth of how beetlesticks were actually added to the game…which they also don’t know).

The significance which azaleas and azalea trees actually have in their culture is as navigational landmarks and neutral/peaceful zones.

Alongside all this, the mating ritual of beetlesticks involves a trade of flowers between the two prospective parents.

One might assume that, due to being the spawn block, flowering azalea leaves might root themselves in the beetlefolk cultural zeitgeist as the ideal breeding flower, even if they wouldn’t know why.

However, the only beetlefolk who do associate azalea trees with breeding are those of the beetlestick variant which dwells on mushroom field islands,

because mushroom field islands are the only habitable biome which offers no other flower options.

(Though small mushrooms are an alternate option for mating, if the couple are feeling unconventional.)

Beetlefolk of any other beetlestick variant will instead have their choice of available flowers to pick from, leaving azalea flowers to be culturally disassociated from the mating process that they’re technically still viable for.

The mates’ choice of flower is regarded with significance, as certain flowers are believed to grant certain blessings to the child.

[copypastething]

When you pick Magneto and no one goes Wanda

[valerian-riverheart]

How are we doing wizards

[forgottenchapterszine]

AUGUST UPDATE

Most items, including the zine, have been completed and are now undergoing quality control. Only the C-3PO foil postcard is still in production!

But this means that we’ll be shipping soon!

We appreciate everyone’s patience!

[starry-sophrosyne]

🦋 red and purple, with strawberry ice cream, please! (I hope this is formatted right. n.n') - @sopping-wet-cat-wizard

Order for @sopping-wet-cat-wizard! // Order here!:

[giacarem]

it's supposed to be fun, turning seventeen

"Zuko's birthday!" Aang called out. "Zuko, you didn't tell us it was your birthday? We would've celebrated!" "It doesn't matter," Zuko said, his voice commanding, if not a bit squeaky. "I've never really celebrated my birthday, so it's not like I'm missing anything. Please, just pretend that this is a normal day." Hopefully, they would forget all about his birthday. … Hopefully. Or; The Gaang find an old calendar among the mountain of memorabilia that Zuko is burning at the Ember Island holiday house and make a startling discovery. Zuko, on the other hand, begins to believe they are hatching a plot to kill him.

7,323 words of Zuko angst and hurt/comfort that you can read here!

[catgirl-valeria]

If you walk away, I’ll walk away

First tell me which road you will take.

I don’t wanna risk our paths crossing some day,

So you walk that way, I’ll walk this way

Valeria reflects on her past, from the deterioration of her relationship with her sister, Hope, to her role as a leader of the Society, and to her fixation and ultimately her obsession with Pandora’s Box.

Or; a recounting of Valeria’s adult life, told in a series of vignettes set to the lyrics of Bright Eyes’s Land Locked Blues.

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

Remember the live action Justice League movie that came out a few years ago? Earlier today i had a dream about what was essentially a sequel movie, where everyone in the live action DCU get together to stop the big bad yadda yadda. And SOMEHOW they managed to get Ryan Reynolds to reprise his role as Green Lantern. Like no reboot. Its straight up that same Green Lantern from the 2011 movie i have only one memory of and im pretty sure was a flop. But heres when it gets funny. Every scene with him in it was filmed like Deadpool. His first appearance involved him running from the cameras screaming that he'd never wear the CGI suit again. He keeps breaking the fourth wall to absolutely roast himself and the other characters (*cough* Batman *cough*) and most importantly the crew. The first time they all suit up he cycles through a ton of super suits Scooby Doo unmasking reveal style until its something that passes for a GL suit. The JL are beyond done with him but they can't break the fourth wall like he can so they can't physically stop the Ryan Reynolds shenaniganery. The rest of the movie is broody and serious this is JUST every Hal Jordan scene

[togo--mimori]

I have a LOT of feelings about kaisers backstory. Mostly positive? My opinions on his character have only really gotten better tbh. Like, he's not a good person. But he is definitely a product of his environment.

I think he does care about Ness in his own twisted way. But he doesn't know how to recognize positive emotions. He doesn't know how to form lasting relationships without manipulation and insults.

Kaiser never got therapy, or even really a trustworthy adult (that we know of yet) to sit him down and try to break through the shell he formed after all those years. It's all he knows, it's all he has to work with. He has no frame of reference for friendship and love. New emotions and feelings are scary, they feel wrong sometimes. So he sticks to what he knows and does it the best he can.

The only thing that's changed is we know WHY Kaiser is how he is. I don't have it in me to hate him now that it's confirmed he's incredibly mentally ill due to his fucking awful and unstable formative years. He's a bad person, but he hasn't always been. But he's not beyond hope or help, like anyone is.

Not supporting anything he's done, just appreciating a well written character. Seeing bits of my broken past mirrored on a fucking rat tail anime man has been an experience.

[fandomfuhhhckery]

*sits up in cold sweat* has anyone done Griddlehark fan content with this song because it's like it was written for them. Like??

Here we are again at the Kazimier Garden

Underneath a slate sky

Your stare is steely and your tongue is sharpened

Can carve me like a steak knife

We used to share that stall and a pair of wine lips

Hips pressed up against the wall

You know I tried my best to turn your black eyes hazel

And kiss away your cruelty

I gladly got undressed, put all my cards on the table

And by cards, I mean me

Apple in mouth, then you left town

Ran after you until my legs gave out

I came crawlin' in on all fours

Knockin' at your door

Knockin' at your door

I don't wanna bleed anymore

I just wanted love

But you wanted gore

You're my matador

[caramel-catss]

suthorn boy

on ao3

word count: 1.4k

concept work about link and zelda not knowing each other before eow happens

Zelda just can't get her mind off the boy who saved her. She visits his house, hoping to learn more about him.

From the beginning, he stood out to her.

A boy clad in green throws himself into battle against Zelda’s kidnapper with seemingly no fear. His face is set quietly, cautiously; he practically has no expression. White, stone-like eyes gleam as he fires an arrow at her cage.

The mysterious boy idles in her mind from there. He’s pushed back by other things: fleeing from the rift, reuniting with her father, escaping the castle… the entire day becomes a blur.

Hints of him are everywhere—the abandoned house in Suthorn, talks of a swordsman. Zelda quietly pockets these thoughts. They feel important.

Her suspicions are reinforced, then, when she comes face-to-face with the boy once more. Violet voidmagics drip off of him as he turns, corpse-like, and faces her with ruby-red eyes. Zelda knits her eyebrows. Tri clings to her shoulder, then hides behind her. 

Zelda backs up, clinging to the Trirod. The boy steps forward in a hypnotic rhythm, then leaps, brandishing his sword. Zelda spins out of the way, gasping in surprise. “Summon keese!”

Tri obliges as Zelda leaps to get away, hoping the echoes will distract him. He bats them away easily. As the triangles return to Tri’s tail, Zelda’s heart rate rises.

She switches to a moblin. It’s better, if only slightly—he seems to be stronger against echoes specifically. As she backs away, he catches her eye. She doesn’t know this boy, and yet… something about him seems so off, especially compared to last time.

When he disappears, he drops a sword. The handle is cracked and crumbling. When Zelda picks it up, a feeling pierces her skin and wraps around her. She blinks and reawakens again some seconds later.

“Zelda?” Tri asks. Zelda coughs. She picks up the blade with the hem of her dress and pockets it.

“I’m okay,” she murmurs, lost in thought.

Zelda returns to Suthorn Village with a goal in her mind.

‘Link’ was the name that Lueburry gave her. It rings in her head, familiar in a way she can’t place. She can’t get this boy off her mind. Making for the house that sprouts moss and flowers, Zelda is eyed by villagers around her.

“Excuse me, miss,” A boy calls. Zelda turns. “Um, sorry for asking… but your cloak, it looks a lot like my friend’s. His name is Link. I was just wondering… um, if you’ve run into him at all���?”

Lueburry had told her about the cloak. Zelda’s heart clenches at the sight of a young, worried child, and she lightly bends her knees to make eye contact with him. “Don’t worry about him, little one. He’ll come home safely.”

The boy sighs in relief. “Oh, good… he promised he would play with me later, but he’s been gone for a few days now…”

“He will!” Zelda assures. “He’s just a little busy right now. I promise that after he’s done, he’ll come play with you.”

“Okay! Thank you, cloak lady!” With a grin, he runs off. Zelda gazes after him, a small smile on her face. Link plays with the village kids… and they care about him.

Straightening, Zelda turns to the entryway. She trails her hand on the wooden doorframe. It’s serene in here. Deathly quiet, frozen as stone, yet… somehow, it’s peaceful.

“Zelda,” Tri asks. Zelda peaks up at her companion. Tri floats close to her face, pondering. “...Why did you tell the child that? We don’t know if Link will come back.”

She frowns. “I don’t want someone so young to be that worried. He’s just a boy… it would be cruel to tell him how little we know about Link’s fate.”

“But that wasn’t…” The little creature seems confused. “You don’t know the swordsman, right? The way you were talking about him—it was like you were friends.”

Zelda studies the room. “You’re right, I don’t know him.” She spots a flowerpot on a dresser and makes her way to it. “I pretended I did in order to calm that child.”

“Why?”

“...I’m actually not quite sure. It’s almost instinct to protect the young, even just by comfort. Maybe that’s it.”

Tri swims to Zelda’s shoulder and perches on it. “I don’t really understand. …Your kind care for each other a lot.”

“Mm.” Zelda breaks the house’s spell by lifting a broom and gliding to the fireplace. She reaches the handle up and cleans away a cobweb. “Well, you care about freeing your friends, right? I guess it’s not that different. We care about others because they’re another person.”

“Well,” Tri stammers, “I have to free them so they can mend the rifts. And… I don’t like that they’re trapped.”

Zelda smiles. “That’s the same feeling that made me respond to the boy. I didn’t like the thought of him being that beside himself because he was worried about Link. I could fix that, so I did.”

“Oh.”

“Do you get it now?”

“...Yes, I think… kind of.”

Zelda reaches to Tri; she gently pats Tri’s head. Her companion leans into her touch.

Link’s coat feels heavy on her shoulders. When she first received it, the cloth had a distinct smell. It was warm—almost as warm as Tri is. Holding Tri again reminds her of this. This entire house smells like the cloak did.

It’s quiet as Zelda sits on a tiny wooden stool. Her lips are pressed into a frown. Link is just a Suthorn boy; he’s a village-dweller, someone common and simple. If the rifts never existed, he might have lived an entirely normal life. The thought snags on Zelda’s mind.

Why did he… risk his life for her?

She doesn’t know this boy. It wasn’t until some hours ago that she even learned his name. And yet, he ran into danger for her like it was nothing. When a rift caught him, he grabbed his bow and freed her instead of panicking. His hood is the one concealing her face from the soldiers searching for her. Despite everything, she can’t figure out a single reason why.

People have tended to Zelda all her life. As princess, she has countless servants and is always waited on by her nanny, Impa. She’s been taken care of forever. In fact, these past few days are the first time she’s ever had to fend for herself. Could Link’s motivation just be that she’s the princess?

Zelda’s face drops. …She hopes not.

“It could be that feeling,” Tri says. Zelda jolts; she didn’t realize she’s been thinking out loud. “The one you were just describing to me. Maybe Link did it because he didn’t want you to fall into a rift.”

Tri’s words hold merit. Zelda can move in rifts, but how could Link have known that? Maybe he really is that selfless… it makes sense, considering his other actions.

“He wanted to save me,” Zelda murmurs. Tri nods. “Hopefully… not just because I’m a princess…”

“Because you’re another person.” Tri echoes Zelda’s earlier words.

“...Yeah.”

Zelda stands. She still feels a bit guilty. Link is in a rift somewhere; he’s suffering that fate because he saved her.

“I want to save him, too,” she decides. They’ve already been searching for Link, but saying it out loud cements it for her. “...I have to.”

Tri makes a noise of agreement and bounces off Zelda’s shoulder, nodding. Newfound determination fills Zelda, and she gets an idea.

Zelda takes a bottle off of Link’s barrel and opens it. A little bit of water is pooled inside—perfect! Leaving Tri floating, Zelda makes her way back across the room. She stands in front of a large plant.

“What are you doing?” Tri asks.

“I don’t know how long Link will be gone,” Zelda explains. “Or if anyone will check on his house in the meantime. There was already a cobweb that I cleaned out… so I’ll water his plants, too.” She tips the bottle, letting the water drip into the pot. Turning around, she repeats this with Link’s flower.

Link really did leave his house in a hurry. Zelda caps the bottle and replaces it. She pulls Link’s blanket back over his bed. She’s not entirely sure how to make a bed because her servants always do it for her; hopefully just tugging it straight-ish is enough.

Little facts about Link join Zelda’s list. Suthorn boy. Stolen away as a child. Swordsman. He’s mute. He likes flowers. He grows plants. He plays with the village kids.

He saved her. He’s missing. She will save him, too.

[winterlyre]