#I've been struggling a bit recently long story short

[wayfayrr]

I may not read all of your works, because I like Wild/Sage/Tears/Cal the most and ship other Links with other people. You know Midna, Marin, Malon (and Wars with you now I suppose). But I know you're doing a splendid job. It might not always feel that way and I am aware that compliments from outside might not change how you feel inside. But please don't give up. The worst you can do is lose passion for something you love to do.

Not sure if you experience that too but often we tend to compare ourselves to others. And then talk ourselves down because we aren't as good as them. However people from outside just see two pieces of art and are happy, you know?

I guess it happens to all of us eventually but don't be so hard on yourself. You are doing great. I don't want to say measure your level of skill with your fame on tumblr but just look at how fast you got from 300 to 400 followers. I believe that shows how good you are at what you're doing and also how kind you are. And please never feel like you have to force content or writing. Not for yourself or us. Creativity can't be forced.

I hope this helps a little bit. If you ever need someone to talk I'm sure some of us are there for you and have an open ear *ruffles your hair*

Oh yeah I completely get not reading everything - everyone has their own preferences after all also you shipping wars with me is so funny ngl and losing passion is something I've been scared about (and very close to over the last couple of months) but I'm trying hard to not give up on it.

I do often compare myself to others because I've simply BEEN compared to others for most of my life and it's another thing I'm trying to stop doing. It isn't healthy and it just kinda destroys my own self-esteem lol :P but it's easier said than done.

I think there's a little pressure from how fast I've grown but it's getting easier to deal with than the reasons I was thinking of stopping for, there was just some memories to do with certain parts of what/who I used to write for and who I interacted with that has made me just want to leave a few times over now, but I am pulling through those feelings and not letting them break me! hell they've even helped me to write about other things - it's how tears came into existence after all. I probably won't be leaving this fandom for a good while, even if I did stay for a little out of spite to my own feelings - and while creativity can't be forced the right situations to bring it out can be :) I procrastinate on assessments by writing lol

thank you for being here though <333 it's nice being able to have a bit of a vent like this, plus having a bit of an involuntary writing break has helped a LOT to get me back into it

[hoshikarasu]

IN HALF BROKEN JAPANESE.ㅤ⸺͏͏ㅤHAWKS X GN! READER

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀featuring :   takami keigo aka hawks ╱ gender neutral reader

❛❛ ⠀In half broken Japanese, I wrote to you 愛してる oh 愛してる ... ⠀❜❜ ⠀or ⠀a partial canon divergency of post-final war arc, you reunite with your lover !

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀notes  :   dedicated to @falryllghts / @brunette-sketches ! gender-neutral reader. reader isn't from japan and is learning japanese; they're a foreign hero that has volunteered to help with the restoration efforts. established relationship. be gentle with me and my interpretation of hawks. it has been a while since I've written for him. minor spoilers for chapters 424 & 426. not proofread. WC — 2.1k.

A week passed.

Despite the lack of villainous activity, both minor and significant, people still wait with bated breath for any horrid news to drop each morning. It’s difficult for Japan’s citizens to trust the calm that has finally arrived from the end of the war.

All you can do is hope that your presence, along with the other foreign heroes that have volunteered to be here, can help their nerves. 

The second that news spread that Japan was entering a restoration phase after the war had ended, you jumped at the chance to offer your support. A hasty decision that you probably shouldn’t have made considering you had an entire agency to run, but you had full trust in your staff and sidekicks to hold down the fort without you there.

Honestly, you can’t even recall how long you rattled off to your poor secretary on how long you’d be away to come out and help.

That’s definitely something you should be spending your break on to properly discuss with your agency on when you’ll be returning. 

But instead, you started wandering off from the district you were assigned to, flashing polite, albeit awkward, smiles at any heroes you made eye contact with and hoping none of them tried to initiate a conversation. Even with the micro-translator devices that everyone was provided with—which were built by that one support course student from Japan’s number one hero academy—you still hesitated to converse with them unless it was absolutely necessary. 

There was a chance that you could’ve been given the one faulty translator.

And what if you only found out once someone tried to talk to you?

What if it malfunctioned and was set to translate to a different language other than your native tongue?

What if—

Your eyes immediately land on Keigo once you step foot into the district he’s overseeing, cutting your thoughts short.

Finding him in a crowd of people has never been a challenge for you. Your gaze never fails to gravitate towards where he stands like he’s a beacon that calls out solely to you. 

From a single glance, Keigo looks as carefree as he normally does as he watches everyone. 

However, in your eyes, you can easily piece together from his stance that he’s more lost in thought than he probably thinks he is. And the more you inch closer to where he’s perched, the more you can confirm your suspicions.

You note the tension in his stance as he’s somewhat hunched over like he’s actively thinking about the loss of weight on his back. (Which he probably is. His sense of balance has been a recent struggle from what he has told you before you arrived in Japan. He has shared some instances of losing his balance here and there. These stories have always been accompanied by his laughter while you would just sit there and think how you’d help him steady himself whenever he felt off balance.)

The wind starts to pick up a bit; it’s a gentle breeze that’s enough to make you aware of its presence and stir memories in Keigo’s mind judging from the way his gaze grows distant.

His hair, now tousled by the wind, dances around his face. 

If you focus solely on his face, this would seem like one of the many pictures you’ve seen captured of him in the middle of flying that would appear on your timelines. 

You wonder if to Keigo whether this serves more like a stark reminder of the freedom he once took for granted. 

Keigo’s body instinctively shifts forwards almost as if trying to follow after the direction the wind blows in from where he is to the best of his ability. There’s the faintest hint of a bittersweet smile that rises to his lips as he glances up at the sky that remains just out of reach. 

As much as you enjoy staring at your lover, you feel like it’s best to make yourself known than continue staring and getting caught.

The unfocused state of his gaze clears up at the sound of you clearing your throat. Just as quick as his former flying speed, his eyes shift over to you. In an instant, his pupils dilate at the mere sight of you and warmth blossoms from his stare.

One of his hands reaches up to tap the micro-translator device in his ear, presumably to turn off, and you find yourself mirroring his action. After all, he’s the only one you’re actually able to hold a conversation with due to Keigo’s fluency in your native tongue.

“What brings you over here, sunshine? Miss me?”

No longer does a bittersweet smile rest on his face. A wider, affectionate grin replaces it with ease while he steps away from his post to approach you.

Your immediate thought is to deny it. 

Except you know very well how that interaction would play out, and being called out by Keigo isn’t entirely something you wish to go through right now.

Yet, admitting to missing him felt a bit too much. Knowing yourself, you may sound more vulnerable than you would like. All your worry and concern may leak out the moment you utter a single word.

Which is also something you don’t wish to go through right now.

Not yet at the very least. Not when you’re both in the middle of helping out with the Restoration Efforts.

The lack of a quick and witty response from you seems to catch his attention since he moves closer. With a gentle nudge to your side, he waits for you to meet his eyes before he nods his head to the side.

“Want to join me in getting a drink?”

He doesn’t actually wait for your answer when he starts to walk off. He’s confident in the fact that you’ll follow him no matter what, and you inwardly curse at the way your legs instantly move to catch up to him.

By the time you stand at his side, he’s sliding in a few yen coins into a vending machine. “What would you like?” Keigo asks, pushing the button for that canned coffee that he enjoys. He’s already sliding more yen coins into the machine before he looks at you.

“Oh,” You blink a couple times and examine the options in the vending machine a bit frantically. 

It’s just as you thought.

You can read none of it.

Well, there are some labels you can read, but that doesn’t exactly help you in figuring out what the drinks are exactly. 

After what feels like an eternity to you, you finally sputter out a sheepish, “Uhm, water’s fine.”

There’s no way you were going to spend anymore time staring at this machine like it would magically translate itself for you. You’re sure that even if you could read the labels that you would still be fighting against your indecisiveness to make a decision.

“Alright.”

Despite his acknowledgement to your answer, Keigo pushes at a button for a different drink. Your mouth drops partly open before you lightly smack his arm when he bends down to collect both drinks. 

“What—hey! I said that water's fine. You didn’t have to get me something else.” 

“I know,” Keigo offers nothing more than a smile and shrug, “But I can tell you’ve been working hard today, and you should hydrate with more than just water. Besides, I think you’ll like this.” He holds up the drink, shaking it lightly to draw your attention towards it. “It tastes the same as that brand you like back at your home.”

Your heart squeezes tightly at his words.

Maybe it’s the fact that he sees past your act of being fine and not tired from how long you’ve been helping out in the district you were assigned to. Or that he remembers something as mundane as the type of drink and flavor you like and offers you something similar so you can have a sense of a familiarity while you’re out in a whole other country. 

Either way, you’re a mess.

So much of a mess that your thoughts are circling around one singular thing.

You truly, truly love Keigo.

Maybe you love him a bit too much. You’re starting to think so because you find yourself compelled to do one thing and that’s to blurt it out right then and there.

And not just in your language… but in his.

Your Japanese reading skills may be lower than beginner level, but you have been practicing speaking it. Especially a couple, certain phrases.

What’s the worst thing that can happen? He laughs at you?

Thinking about it, Keigo would laugh regardless. That idiot, you think affectionately, is always laughing around you. A habit of his that you’ve never understood. (Often you’d catch him with the corner of his eyes crinkling whenever he stares at you and starts to laugh. His sudden bursts of laughter is something he never explains but promises mean nothing bad.)

A gentle tapping against your forehead draws you away from your thoughts. You huff lightly and reach up to swat his hand away, ignoring how his chuckle makes your stomach twist into itself.

“I can see you overworking that pretty little head of yours. What’s on your mind? You can tell me, it’s just me.” Keigo says that so casually like he isn’t the most precious person in your life.

Like you don’t stay up late when you’re in your respective home country simply to receive his texts or be on video call with him. Like you didn’t just jump at the chance to head straight to Japan after hearing the news solely because one of your biggest concerns was how he was out on the battlefield during the war. 

You know yourself. 

If you don’t say it now then there’s no chance you’ll muster up the courage to say it later.

Locking eyes with Keigo, you take a deep breath and utter out a shaky, “愛してる¹.” 

The silence that follows afterwards feeds the anxious thoughts growing in your head.

Was your half broken Japanese that bad that he didn’t understand it? Or maybe he did and it was way too soon to even think about telling him that. Oh god, maybe you should have practiced more to ensure that you would have nailed the pronunciation.

“Woah,” Keigo breaks the silence, yet it hardly does a thing to calm your nerves. You spill out an ‘I love you,’ and all he does is go, ‘woah,’ and nothing else.

Before you can take back your words, he continues.

“When did you have the time to practice Japanese? I thought you were too busy worrying and fussing over me lately.”

This was a mistake.

“Forget I said anything!” Turning your head away, you can feel your cheeks growing warmer by the second. Your drink suddenly looks far more interesting than anything else around you.

Except Keigo would never let you take your eyes off him.

It doesn’t take him long to start leaning against your side. “Say it again!” 

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t actually mean it.” Your words elicit a boisterous laugh from him, which only causes your cheeks to flush even more.

A moment passes before he’s calming down and a more gentle looking grin settles on his face. “I think I’m going on vacation after all this.” Keigo states out of nowhere that you pause for a moment. 

Huh? Where did that come from?

Catching onto your confusion, Keigo chuckles. “I was offered to take over as the president for the HPSC.” Hearing that has you widen your eyes a bit as you vaguely recall what you did know about Japan’s HPSC. He doesn’t let you dwell too long on these thoughts with his next words. “I’m turning the offer down. That kind of responsibility just isn’t for me.”

However, Keigo doesn’t stop talking there.

“What would you say your hometown is like during this season?” 

It truly should be illegal how easily he can turn your thoughts to revolve around him and the things he says. Because now you can only think about him (which is nothing new) and at your place!

“It’s… It’s nice. Uh, yeah, you should totally come visit. If you want. I might know a place for you to stay for as long as you’re there.” 

“Really now?”

Oh, you need to wipe away that look from Keigo’s face now before you explode. 

“Or maybe you can go sleep outside for all I care.” You spat out of embarrassment, ignoring the way he breaks out into laughter yet again.

A sound you’ve heard plenty of times but never gets old to you.

“Keigo.”

“Hmm?”

“... 心を愛してる².”

“I love you too.”

愛してる ¹ — I love you 心を愛してる ² — I love your heart

[turtletaubwrites]

I Knew It Would Hurt ~ Part 9

Pairings: Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,715

This is part 9 of the Series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Series Link

Summary: You're waiting for the boys to make their decision. Waiting is really fucking hard.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Fem!Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, Smut, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Relationship Discussions, Relationship Drama, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Penis in Vagina Sex, I left out some tags to avoid spoilers but there’s nothing crazy if you’ve read this far already

A/N: Here's another rollercoaster, and it's the longest one so far! I'm super grateful for all of your interactions with this story. I've loved turning that little smut scene into this fun character dynamic, and I really hope you enjoy this next installment. Thank you!!

A soft knock at the door woke you, and for a moment you felt fine. Then you remembered. 

“I’ve got your breakfast, can I come in?”

Nami frowned when she saw you. She set your plate down on your desk, then pulled you into a hug.

“This whole thing seems like a lot of work. I’m here if you need me, okay?”

“Thanks, Nami. All I wanted to do was take a long shower, and now I might be breaking up with two people I’m not actually with.”

“Gotta be careful about those showers, they can fuck you up.”

You gave a laugh that might have been a sob before squeezing her tighter. 

“Love you.”

She pulled away, but grabbed your shoulders, leaning her face toward yours.

“Love ya too, weirdo. What do you need today?” 

“Um, can you bring me my field notes? Chopper knows where they are. I’m just gonna work in here today, I’m not ready to people.”

“Of course. I can bring you your other meals too if you want.”

Sighing as you nodded, memories of recent times in the kitchen fought you as you tried to shove them down. 

“Luffy really thinks you’re sick now.”

“He might not be far off. I feel like shit.”

After Nami came back to drop off lunch later, another knock came, freezing you on the spot. 

“Hi, it’s Robin.”

You cringed a bit, embarrassed for her to see you like this, but you let her in. Her eyes combed over you, lips pursing as she stepped inside. She kept a noticeable distance between you.

“Y/N, I came to apologize. I shouldn’t have been pushing you like this, I knew you were overwhelmed already. I’m so sorry I added to your struggle.”

“No, Robin, it's okay. You helped me! I really needed to hear what you said.”

Robin let out a breath, but her brows were still tensed. She looked down at the ground before meeting your eyes again.

“I shouldn’t have pushed myself on you. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Her normally steady eyes looked heavy, a sight she rarely shows.

Reaching for her hand, you felt a gentle smile warming your face.

“I’m not sorry.”

Her lips curled up just a bit, and she squeezed your fingers gently. 

“I’m so glad to hear that… How about we wait on that date until everything settles?” 

You almost argued that you didn’t need to wait, but you realized that you did. 

“Thank you, Robin.”

She brushed a strand of hair from your face, and you breathed in her lovely scent.

“Thank you, Y/N. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll do what I can to calm the rest of the crew.”

The comfort that Robin's presence left you with made you feel safer, warmer. 

But it was as if that feeling of safety made room for your body to feel the rest. 

Sitting at your desk staring at your field notes, your vision started to blur. You had to close your journal to keep tears from staining your monographs.

You kept your sobs silent, not wanting anyone to hear. Then you remembered why you’d gotten so good at keeping your screams quiet lately. You had to cover your mouth as you choked, louder sobs escaping you now. 

Why did I do this to myself? I knew it would hurt. Just not this much, not so fast. I should have stopped. 

But you hated that thought. The thought of not enjoying the short time you’d had with both of them. The pleasures, the laughter, the growing warmth. You didn’t want to lose any of it, even if it would hurt less. 

You tried not to think about what choice they would make. The only one you wanted felt selfish. You’d get to have everything.

And if you didn’t get to have everything, then it would be nothing. You knew that even if one of the boys chose to leave, and one wanted to stay, you couldn’t continue with only one. There was too much heat between all three of you. You knew it would drive an even bigger wedge between them, potentially tearing them, and the crew apart. 

I can’t do that. 

So it was all or nothing, and your body was preparing you for the worst. 

A knock shook you from your spiral and you moved to the door, expecting Nami. Wiping your tears and shaking your arms, you checked.

“Who is it?”

“Hi, Y/N. I’ve got your dinner, and I didn’t eat any of it.”

Your eyes went wide, but you let your captain in.

“Thank you, Luffy.”

He walked right in, setting your plate on your desk before plopping on your bed. 

You stared, not sure what to say. He pointed to your desk chair, and you felt suddenly terrified as you sat and faced him. He watched you like he was sizing you up.

“Robin told me and Chopper why you’ve been weird.”

“O-Oh?”

“I’m the captain, Y/N. I need to know my crew is okay.”

Fear iced through you, and you stared into your lap. He should kick me off the crew. I’m splintering his best fighters, endangering everyone.

His hand stretched toward you, and he touched your shoulder until you met his eyes. 

“It all seems a little crazy to me.”

You let out a near panicked laugh before you caught yourself.

“Yeah, me too.”

“But you care about them?”

His deep eyes looked so soft, his voice intense.

“I do.” 

Nodding, he crossed his arms. 

“They care about you too, Y/N.”

You felt your lips shaking, heat rising in your throat. 

“As long as you care about each other, and keep fighting for your dreams, I’m happy.”

Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as Luffy started to smile. 

“Can you be happy too?”

Your lips pulled into a strained smile as you tried to stop your tears. 

“I’ll get there, Luffy. It’s just rough right now. But I’m glad you’re my captain.” 

Luffy was beaming at you now, then stretched to ruffle your hair. He leaned toward you, and whispered softly.

“Will you keep giving me the extra food Sanji makes you?”

You burst out laughing, and Luffy’s smile stretched even wider.

“Yes, captain!”

Luffy grabbed you in a hug, twirling you as much as he could in the small quarters. This is family. 

As he left he gave you one more serious look. 

“Y/N, please tell me next time something is hurting you. I’m your captain and I need to know.”

“I promise, Luffy.”

All the emotions of the day had you feeling empty, but now it was more pleasantly numb. Your biggest fear of losing your place on this crew, in this family, those fears were shrinking away from you. Soft tears of relief left your eyes now, and you tried to comfort yourself against the hurt of losing Zoro and Sanji. At least I won’t lose them completely. 

That thought brought back more of the pain, but you shook it off. It was getting late, and you wanted to get some air. Steeling yourself, you picked up your dishes and went down the hall, hoping to sneak them into the galley before sitting out on deck. 

You crept against the wall, listening to check if Sanji was inside or not before heading in.

But you heard two low voices. 

“You don’t know her like I do.”

“I care about her, Marimo. I care about her enough to share her with you. Can you say the same?”

You tried to force your body to turn around, to head back to your room, but all you could focus on was not shaking the plate and silverware in your hands. 

Your heart was in your throat, and you felt faint as you waited for what felt like hours for his response. 

“Yeah, I can, idiot cook.”

A gasping sob escaped you, and you tried to cover your mouth. Instead, you dropped your dishes, the plate shattering at your bare feet. You stared at the broken porcelain, and started laughing hysterically. 

“Y/N!”

They both rushed out, concern in their eyes. 

“Are you hurt?” “You okay?”

You were too out of it to respond, and kept laughing as they both tried to lift you. Zoro won, lifting you in his arms, while Sanji brushed along your feet and legs, checking for glass. 

Your breathing slowed as you felt Zoro’s racing heart, and you felt like you could fall asleep in his arms. He carried you into the kitchen while Sanji swept up the broken plate.

Zoro placed you gingerly in the booth, his brows furrowed as he looked you over. 

“Needy, please. Are you okay?”

You smiled at the nickname, and looked at them both as Sanji joined you at the table. 

“I’m okay.”

Neither of them seemed convinced, but you couldn’t explain the rush of relief and happiness that had just torn through your already overwhelmed system. But you tried. 

“I didn’t mean to. But I heard you.”

You felt your lips quivering again as they both seemed to soften. 

“It’s okay if you still need some time to think-”

“I don’t need time my love-” “I’m good, Needy-”

Your cheeks hurt from the smile that stretched your face, especially when they both grinned back at you. 

Then your mouth stretched further into the biggest, loudest yawn you’d ever felt.

“You need some sleep-” “Let’s get you to bed, dear-”

Zoro went to lift you, but Sanji tapped his shoulder. 

“You just carried her, It’s my turn now.”

“I’m not letting a pervert cook into her bedroom when she needs to rest.”

“Boys,” you commanded with another yawn. “Flip a coin or something please, I’m tired.”

Your yawns were mixed with tired giggles while you saw them rustling through their pockets. Sanji’s satisfied laugh, and Zoro’s grumble gave away the winner. 

Sanji lifted you gently, and you smelled cigarette smoke and spices on his jacket. Zoro followed close, opening the door, and hovering while Sanji set you in bed, drawing the covers over you. 

“Good night, darling-” “Good night, Needy-”

“Night, boys…”

A soft knock woke you, and for a moment you felt all that sadness. Then you remembered.

You sat straight up in bed, hoping that it wasn’t a dream.

“Who-Who is it?”

“Your favorite navigator, lazybones. Do you want to come to breakfast?”

You jumped out of bed, stumbling.

“Yeah, I’ll be right out!”

Your reflection looked dazed, and you slapped your cheeks a few times, laughing. You hurried to get ready, and had to stop yourself from racing down the hall. 

Everyone was there, already digging into their plates. They all turned to stare at you with teasing, or cheesy faces. Your face flushed, and you bit your lip before climbing into the empty spot Zoro had saved for you. You were next to him at the edge of the table, where Sanji stepped up to bring you what looked like a mimosa with tangerine blossoms for a garnish. 

“Hey, why don’t I get one of those?”

“Apologies Nami, dear. I will whip one up for you right away. Would you like one as well, Robin?”

“That sounds lovely, Sanji.”

“Hey, don’t hog the booze, waiter. Make me one of those too.”

“You haven’t earned it, moss hea-”

Everyone's clamoring voices died down as you burst out laughing, almost hysterical, but so full of joy and relief. 

Luffy grinned, stretching to hit your arm lightly with his fist, Chopper looked confused, Usopp was asking Sanji for his own mimosa, and Nami and Robin laughed with you. 

The boys had stopped arguing, and were both staring at you. Until your skin flushed red again, and your laughter hiccuped and faded. 

“Ugh. I love you, Y/N, but this is gonna get annoying real fast.”

You stuck your tongue out at Nami as she winked, and fell into quiet joy while you tried to listen to the group. 

Sanji kept bringing you delicious gifts, and you’d wink at Luffy so he could snag them. Each time Sanji came your way he would give you a soft peck on the forehead, or shoulder, or knuckles.

A low grumble moved through Zoro, but all he did was wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth.

Feeling like you were going to pass out, you didn’t even hear most of what the crew were saying while they teased you. 

You caught yourself doing your happy food wiggle dance, and couldn’t seem to stop, even humming now and then. The crew left the three of you there, and you didn’t hear their goodbyes, just beamed lazily at them.

Sanji brought his plate to the table, and cleared his throat until Zoro begrudgingly scooted over, dragging you with him to make room on the bench. Sanji winked at you before diving into his meal, and you just sat there wiggling, out of your mind. 

“I knew you were fuckin’ needy.”

You laughed while Sanji spluttered, and you patted his knee to calm him.

“What do you mean, Zoro,” you smirked up at him, teasing. 

“You know what I mean. So fucking spoiled.”

“Don’t listen to him, angel. You deserve to be spoiled, to be-”

Another bout of hysterical laughter left you, and eventually they joined in. 

Finally, you gained some control of yourself, and tried to hold a conversation. 

“I’m so happy you both chose to stay with me.”

You stopped them both from speaking at the same time, realizing that it would be difficult to get much done with all three of you in a room. 

“We definitely need to keep checking in, and figuring out boundaries. I don’t think my brain is up for that today though.”

“What are you up for, my dear?”

“Mm, I like this,” you sighed, rocking back and forth against each of their sides. 

You caught Zoro rolling his eyes, and you stuck your tongue out at him. 

“What about you guys? Your needs matter too here. What do you need?”

Neither spoke for a minute, and you played with your spoon. 

“I guess, um…”

You looked up at Zoro, desperate to hear him actually express his fucking needs. 

“How do we figure out time for just us?”

He said those words softly, and you knew how huge it was that he hadn’t said it with anger or frustration. You smiled up at him, then at Sanji who seemed to be waiting with rapt attention. 

“Well, we can always check in, and change things if the system isn’t working out. But how about for now we stick to alternating days? Not just for sex, but for our time together?”

They both nodded, Zoro slowly, and Sanji with an eager smile. You squeezed both of their knees before reaching for the last of your mimosa. 

You sat back, and they both tilted to see you better. You fought more laughter at what a lovely pair they made. 

“Y/N, dear-” “So who-”

They glared at each other, until Sanji did a small mock bow to let Zoro go first. 

Zoro’s mouth twitched as he looked away from both of you before continuing. He didn’t meet your gaze when he finished his question. 

“Who’s turn is it?”

Your lips parted, and you watched them both look guilty while they waited for you.

This is crazy. How did I manage this?

Zoro cleared his throat, leaning with his elbows over the table.

“Yesterday was supposed to be my day.”

“Technically we didn’t finish my day before that.”

“You’re really gonna pressure her ab-” “You’re the one that’s pressuring her Mari-”

“Technically today was supposed to be Robin’s day.”

Your words shut them both up, and it took way too much effort to hold in your satisfied smile at their expressions. 

Zoro looked shocked again, as if he’d blocked that out of his mind. Sanji’s fists had clenched, and you could see the veins in his neck and face throbbing as he turned bright red. 

You couldn’t help it. A small laugh escaped you. 

“Don’t worry, Robin and I decided to wait on our date until things are settled.”

You could have sworn you heard a tiny whimper from Sanji’s throat. 

“How about we start things fresh with a coin toss?”

They both reached for a coin and threw them in the air, calling out the choice. You laughed as they both lost their own tosses. 

“Let me do it.”

You’d grabbed Zoro’s coin, and tried to mimic them. You kept throwing it onto the table, or failing to catch it. The coin would drop on your lap, both of them reaching for your thighs to grab it for you, growling as their hands touched. 

“Gods, can you guys just agree on which one of you tosses the coin? Pretty please?”

Sanji ended up giving in to your wishes again first, letting the swordsman toss. Then Zoro swore as the coin fell in Sanji’s favor. Sanji kissed your cheek while Zoro left the table after rubbing along your shoulders.

“See ya later, Needy.”

“Wait!”

You rushed over to your surly crewmate. The man who had walked in on you in the shower, and declared that you should fuck. You laughed softly at how crazy your life had been since that moment. And you couldn’t be more grateful for it if you tried. 

“What,” he asked, his brows tensing as you laughed.

“It’s nothing,” you whispered, standing on tip toes in a silent request for a kiss.

His look of surprise deepened your smile, and he gripped the hair at the back of your neck when he pulled you to his lips. 

A soft cough sounded behind you, and Zoro hummed as he pulled away to smirk at the cook. You nudged him out the door. 

Turning around, you saw his eyes wide, waiting. You leaned toward him, feeling his soft lips kiss the corners of your mouth before pulling you into his arms to breathe along your ear. 

“All to myself?”

Sanji’s raspy voice made you moan, your body still so ready even with all that had happened. You almost felt high, like all the emotions had left your body buzzing. 

You looked up into his soft eyes, watching his lips part when he noticed how heavy your breaths were. 

“D-Darling. I didn’t mean… Let me-”

He froze when you gripped his arms to keep him from pulling away. 

“I want all sorts of lovely moments with you, Sanji, and I know we’re going to have them.”

The sweet smile that bloomed on his face made your heart dance in your chest for a moment, and you had to take a deep breath. 

“I don’t want you to feel bad if we start today where we left off.”

You let heat fill your eyes as you wet your lips. Sanji’s eyes seemed to be pulled to your mouth, and you saw his breath hitch. 

“A-Are you sure?”

Grinning at him, you nodded as you bit your lip.

He lunged toward your lips again, but you pressed your hands to his chest.

“Maybe we should go to one of our rooms now that everyone knows?”

You gasped as he looked at you like he was about to eat you. 

“That’s too far, sweetheart. How about I take you in the pantry?”

You’d barely breathed out your ‘yes,’ before he lifted you into the air. He pulled you so fast, but still managed to grip you in a way that was comfortable. Your arms and legs wrapped around him, and he groaned while you kissed and licked along his neck. 

Setting you gently in the walk in pantry, he held your face while he kissed you before rushing out. You tilted your head after him, but moaned when he returned with a condom and lube. Memories of your first time with him, and the sting and pleasure of his thick cock pulsed through you. Your eyes fell back in your head, and he gave a satisfied chuckle as he turned on the small light before closing the door. 

“My sweet, Y/N… How can I show you how special you are to me?”

“You can tell me all the filthy things you want to do to me.”

You pulled your panties off from under your skirt and threw them at his chest. 

Sanji had to catch himself against the wall as he moaned, almost dropping the lube. 

He already looked wrecked when he met your eyes, and it drove you crazy. 

“What do you want to do to me, Sanji?”

He was panting as he watched you pull your skirt up, so slowly. You took the condom and lube from him, and set them on a shelf.

Skin on fire, you didn’t know what had gotten into you. But you wanted him now, and you couldn’t stop yourself. You pressed yourself against his chest, looking into his blown out eyes. Both of you cried out when you dragged your hand along his length, already so fucking hard. 

“Sanji, I asked you a question.”

Your words came out soft and dark. You watched his eyes flutter, and you wanted to speed him up. Taking his hand in yours, you whispered his name before pressing his fingers into your wet folds. 

He moaned so loud, and your knees went weak. He had to catch you, then he pressed you against the wall, shoving two fingers into you.

“You are so fucking perfect. My sweet, dirty angel.”

Crying out at his praise, your body started shaking for him. 

“P-Please, Sanji.”

He rutted against your thigh when you begged, and the feel of his clothed shaft rubbing against you made you whimper.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you. Such a beautiful, lovely girl. And you’re letting me touch you like this, where anyone could find us.”

He moaned into your ear, breathing in the scent of your hair. 

You cried out his name, already feeling on the edge, ready.

“So gorgeous. Let me take care of you, angel. Let me make you feel good.”

“Yes, Sanji, please.”

He fell to his knees with a moan, tasting your needy cunt with that skilled tongue. His two fingers kept up their work while he swirled his tongue ring around your clit. 

You had already started shaking before he plunged that third finger into you, and then you were gone. You shoved your own fist into your teeth, and panted as you bucked against Sanji’s face, coming on his tongue. 

He licked you up like he was dying of thirst, while his three fingers kept prepping you. 

He looked up at you, face glistening in the small light. 

“You taste divine, my sweet.”

You moaned as his fingers kept working you. 

“It’s probably time for me to prep for lunch, darling.”

You whined, grinding on his fingers. 

He groaned, then checked his watch. 

“Please Sanji. We’ll have so many more times to play for longer. Please fuck me against the wall right now. I know how much your perverted mind wants you to.”

You moaned as Sanji’s hand twitched inside you, his head falling back as he moaned. 

“Please Sanji, I know you’ll take good care of me. Please, please fuck me now. I know you’d love it if someone caught us.”

He fell forward, mouth hanging open as his face pressed against your hip. 

He was still taking too long. 

You gripped your fingers into his hair, and pulled his face to yours. 

“Sanji, are you going to make me beg?”

You watched his eyes harden, and cried out as his long fingers worked you with even more strength. 

“A lady always gets what she wants in my kitchen.”

You moaned his name as he stood, kissing his way up your neck.

His fingers left you, and you clung to the wall as you watched him free his cock from his slacks before dragging the condom and lube down his length. 

He came toward you, and lifted your leg so that your foot rested on a low shelf. His hands trailed along your neck, then your thighs. Your back arched as he teased his shaft along your entrance, the size of him so warm against you. 

“I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

His whispers against your cheek while he dragged his tip along your clit made you shiver for him. 

“To have such an exquisite beauty, coming on my face in the pantry.”

You cried out, clawing at his shoulders. 

He slapped his thick cock against your entrance a few times while you moaned for him. 

“To have such a gorgeous pussy, aching for me to fill it.”

“Fuck, Sanji, please!”

“Of course, darling.”

Biting your lip, your head fell back as you felt him against your center. Not even pressed into you, and your body was readying. 

“That’s good, angel. Breathe for me. You know I’ll take care of you.”

You moaned for him, scratching your nails down his striped shirt as he pushed into you, so slowly. 

“Gods, Sanji-”

“Shh, darling. Just breathe, and take me, baby. I know you can, you’re so perfect for me.”

Your pussy clenched around him, and he thrust the rest of the way in as he moaned. 

“Sweetheart, you okay?”

“Y-Yes, Sanji.”

“Good girl… So perfect.”

As Sanji’s thick cock started pumping into you, slowly, then faster and faster, you forgot where you were, who you were. Just the sharp pain and pleasure of him inside you, and his endless, delectable words were all that held you to reality. His breath was hot on your face and neck as he panted his praise along your skin.

“Y/N, your pussy is fucking heavenly, baby. Fuck. Just like that, I feel you squeezing me so hard. You want my cock inside you, don’t you angel. You want me to make you feel so good, to take care of my perfect girl.”

“Yes, Sanji. Please take care of me.”

He moaned at that, shoving into you, thrusts becoming staggered. He reached down, massaging your clit while you gasped.

“So soft, so good for me…There you go darling- fuck, yes Y/N, milk my cock like a good girl- fuck-”

Sanji came into you with whimpered moans while you shattered around him. He had to hold your slumped body up, gingerly removing himself from you while you cried out. 

You whimpered as he pressed soft kisses to your face, before reaching for your panties on the floor. He gave you a satisfied smile as he used them to wipe you clean, before using them to clean himself off after removing that very full condom. 

You moaned while you watched him rub your panties on his cock, his eyes heavy lidded even after what you’d just done. 

“You’re gonna need to buy me some new panties if you keep taking all of mine.”

His breath came out heavy as he smiled.

“Oh I plan on buying you so many special gifts, my sweet.”

Miraculously, you made it out of the pantry with time to spare, even rushing for a quick shower before heading back to lunch. 

Even though it was Sanji’s day, it looked like meals were going to stay a shared time. You sighed as you leaned against Zoro, dampening his shirt with your still wet hair. 

“Y/N, do you know if we still have any yarrow? I remember you said it can be used to staunch bleeding, and I’d like to keep some on hand if we run out of our other supplies.”

“Y-Yes Chopper. I believe we do, but I’ll check after lunch.”

I really should get back to work at some point. 

But with Zoro’s warmth at your side, and Sanji’s wink while he started on dishes, you weren't sure how you were going to do that. 

Especially when you met Robin’s deep blue eyes, and saw her lips curve in that teasing smile. 

Who knows the next time we’ll be in danger again? I should enjoy this bliss for as long as I can.

Your selfish little smile at that thought felt oh so good. 

I guess I really am Needy after all. 

Thank you for reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

Part 10

Tag List: @astheni-a | @ferns-fics | @heilee | @iamn1ya | @ghostfacefricker6969

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think about where things have landed! I know I've been posting daily updates, but I'm visiting family for the next few days so it might be a couple days until the next one. Unless I get bored, I will be bringing a tablet and keyboard with me 😅

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

[specialagentartemis]

Black Women writing SFF

The post about Octavia Butler also made me think about the injustice we do both Butler, SFF readers, and Black women SFF writers by holding her up as the one Black Woman Writing Sci-Fi. She occupies an important place in the genre, for her creativity, the beauty and impact of her writing, and her prolific work... but she's still just one writer, and no one writer works for everybody.

So whether you liked Octavia Butler's books or didn't, here are some of the (many!!! this list is just the authors I've read and liked, or been recommended and been wanting to read) other Black women writing speculative fiction aimed at adults, who might be writing something within your interest:

N. K. Jemisin - a prolific powerhouse of modern sff. Will probably have something you'll like. Won three Hugo awards in a row for her Broken Earth trilogy. I’ve only read her book of short stories, How Long ‘Til Black Future Month? and it is absolutely story after story of bangers. Creative, chilling, beautifully written, make you think. They’re so good and I highly recommend the collection. Several of her novels have spun out of premises she first explored through these short stories, most recently “The City Born Great” giving rise to her novel The City We Became. Leans more fantasy than sci-fi, but has a lot of both, in various permutations. 

Nisi Shawl - EDIT: I have been informed that Nisi Shawl identifies as genderfluid, not as a woman. They primarily write short stories that lean literary. Their one novel that I’ve read, Everfair, is an alternate-history 19th century that asks, what if the Congo had fought off European colonization and became a free and independent African state? Told in vignettes spanning decades of political organization, political movements, war tactics, and social development, among an ensemble of local African people, Black Americans coming to the new country, white and mixed-race Brits, and Chinese immigrants who came as British laborers.

Nnedi Okorafor - American-Nigerian writer of Africanfuturism, sci-fi stories emphasizing life in present, future, and alternate-magical Africa. She has range! From Binti, a trilogy of novellas about a teenage girl in Namibia encountering aliens and balancing her newfound connection to space with expectations of her family; to Akata Witch, a middle-grade series about a Nigerian-American girl moving to Nigeria and learning to use magic powers she didn’t know she had; to Who Fears Death, a brutal depiction of magical-realism in a futuristic, post-war Sudan; to short stories like "Africanfuturism 419", about that poor Nigerian prince who’s desperately sending out those emails looking for help (but with a sci-fi twist), and "Mother of Invention" about a smart house taking care of its human and her baby… she’s done a little bit of everything, but always emphasizes the future, the science, and the magic of (usually western) Africa.

Karen Lord - an Afro-Caribbean author.  I actually didn’t particularly like the one novel by her I’ve read, The Best of All Possible Worlds, but Martha Wells did, so. Lord has more novels set in this world—a Star Trek-esque multicultural, multispecies spacefuture set on a planet that has welcomed immigrants and refugees for a long time, and become a vibrant multicultural planet. I find her stories rooted in near-future Caribbean socio-climatic concerns like "Haven" and "Cities of the Sun" and her folktale-fantasy style Redemption in Indigo more compelling.  And more short stories here.

Bethany C. Morrow - only has one novella (short novel?) for adults, Mem, but it was creative and fascinating and good and I’d be remiss not to shout it out. In an alternate-history 1920s Toronto, scientists have discovered how to extract specific memories from a person—but then those memories are embodied as physical, cloned manifestations of the person at the moment the memory was made. The main character is one such “Mem,” struggling to determine who she is if she was created from and defined by one single traumatic memory that her original-self wanted to remove. It’s mostly quiet, contemplative, and very interesting.  (Morrow has some YA novels too. I read one of them and thought it was okay.)

Rebecca Roanhorse - Afro-Indigenous, Black and "Spanish Indian" and married into Diné (Navajo). I’ve read her ongoing post-apocalyptic fantasy series starting with Trail of Lightning, and am liking it a lot; after a climate catastrophe, the spirits and magic of the Diné awakened to protect Dinetah (the Navajo Nation) from the onslaught; and now magic and monsters are part of life in this fundamentally changed world. Coyote is there and he is only sometimes helpful. She also has a more traditional second-world epic high fantasy, Black Sun, an elaborate fantasy world with quests and prophecies and seafaring adventure that draws inspiration from Indigenous cultures of the US and Mexico rather than Europe. She also has bitingly satirical and very incisive short stories like “Welcome to Your Authentic Indian Experience” about virtual reality and cultural tourism, and the fantasy-horror "Harvest."

Micaiah Johnson - her multiverse-hopping novel The Space Between Worlds plays with alternate universes and alternate selves in a continuously creative and interesting way! The setup doesn’t take the easy premise that one universe is our own recognizable one that opens up onto strange alternate universes—even the main character’s home universe is wildly different in speculative ways, with the MC coming from a Mad Max-esque desert community abandoned to the elements, while working for the universe-travel company within the climate-controlled walled city where the rich and well-connected live and work. Also, it’s unabashedly gay. 

And if you like audiobooks and audio fiction (I listened to The Space Between Worlds as an audiobook, it’s good), then Jordan Cobb is someone you should check out. She does sci-fi/horror/thriller audio drama. Her works include Janus Descending, a lyrical and eerie sci-fi horror about a small research expedition to a distant planet and how it went so, so wrong; and Descendants, the sequel about its aftermath. She also has Primordial Deep, about a research expedition to the deep undersea, to investigate the apparent re-emergence of a lot of extinct prehistoric sea creatures. She’s a writer/producer I like, and always follow her new releases. Her detailed prose, minimal casts  (especially in Janus Descending), good audio quality, and full-series supercuts make these welcoming to audiobook fans. 

-

Nalo Hopkinson - a writer who should be considered nearly as foundational as Octavia Butler, honestly. A novelist and short story writer with a wide variety of sci-fi, dystopian futures, fairy-tale horror, gods and epics, and space Carnival, drawing heavily from her Caribbean experiences and aesthetics.

Tananarive Due - fantastical/horror. Immortals, vampires, curses, altered reality, unnerving mystery. Also has written a lot of books.

Andrea Hairston - creative and otherworldly, weird and bisexual, with mindscapes and magic and aliens. 

Helen Oyeyemi - I haven’t read her work but she comes highly recommended by a friend. A novelist and short story writer, most of her work leans fairytale fantastical-horror. What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours is a collection of short fiction and recc’ed to me as her best work. White is for Witching is a well-regarded haunted house novel. 

Ashia Monet - indie author, writer of The Black Veins, pitched as “the no-love-interest, found family adventure you’ve been searching for.” Magic road trip! Possibly YA? I’m not positive. 

-

This also doesn’t include Black non-binary sff authors I’ve read and liked like An Owomoyela, C. L. Polk, and Rivers Solomon. And this is specifically about adult sff books, so I didn’t include Black women YA sff authors like Kalynn Bayron, Tomi Adeyemi, Tracy Deonn, Justina Ireland, or Alechia Dow, though they’re writing fantasy and sci-fi in the YA world too.

And a lot of short stories are out there in the online magazine world, where so many up and coming authors get their start, and established ones explore offbeat and new ideas.  Pick up an issue (or a subscription!) of FIYAH magazine for the most current Black speculative writing.

[doumadono]

Hiiiii! I am squeezing into your inbox to

1. Congratulate you on your achievement. You deserved it sweetheart and I am so happy for you (maybe even a lil jealous! Hihi). Keep up the wonderful work and keep bringing joy and comfort to other people!

2. To request something!

I want some Vanilla-Mango ice creams in a cup with Maple syrup.

All of this for my one and only bunny Mirko! 🐇🤍I love ya girl!

Stay awesome!

A/N: thank you so much, honeypot! Your support means everything. I hope you'll like this short piece, and please forgive me if the character isn't quite right — it's my first time writing for Bunny Hero Mirko! ♥

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST MY HERO ACADEMIA

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the city, painting the buildings with shades of gold and amber. You were walking through the park, lost in thought, when you spotted Mirko sitting on a bench, her prosthetic leg resting beside her. Her expression was distant, her eyes fixed on something far away.

Approaching her, you noticed the faint lines of pain etched on her face. You knew about her recent struggles with phantom pains, the cruel reminders of the limbs she had lost during the war. "Hey, Mirko," you greeted softly, taking a seat beside her.

She glanced at you, offering a small, weary smile. "Hey, Y/N," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion.

"Is everything alright?" you inquired, concern coloring your words as you noticed the faint lines of strain etched upon her face.

Mirko sighed, her gaze returning to the horizon. "Just another rough day, I guess," she admitted, her fingers tracing the contours of her prosthetic leg. "The phantom pains have been acting up again."

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Rumi. That sounds really tough."

She looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. "It is," she admitted. "It's like… I can still feel them, you know? My missing arm and leg. Sometimes, it's like they're still there, and it hurts so much…"

You squeezed her shoulder gently, offering your support. "I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must be for you. But I'm here for you, okay? You're not alone. You never were, sweetie."

Mirko's eyes softened, and she leaned into your touch, finding solace in your presence. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

You hurried to a nearby store to grab two bottles of water and some mochi. When you returned, you paused behind a large tree, watching Mirko.

She was someone you deeply admired, one of the few people who truly inspired you. Her toughness was unmatched, and secretly, you yearned to possess even a fraction of her spirit, to be as brave as she was. She was your role model.

You spent the rest of the afternoon with Mirko, talking, laughing, and sharing stories, sitting on that bench. You listened as she opened up about her fears and insecurities, her dreams and aspirations. And through it all, you were there for her, offering words of encouragement and comfort.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the park, Mirko turned to you, her eyes shining with gratitude. "You know," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "even on my darkest days, knowing that I have you by my side makes everything a little bit brighter."

You smiled, feeling your heart swell with warmth. "And you make everything brighter for me too, Mirko. You're strong, resilient, and incredibly brave. I admire you so much."

Mirko's smile widened, and she reached out, taking your hand in hers. "Thank you," she said softly. "That means the world to me. After Jaku and the war, things really shifted," she said, her brow creasing slightly. "It's not like it broke me, but I've been feeling more uncertain. About everything, really. Even my own abilities."

You met Mirko's gaze with a gentle smile. "Rumi," you began softly, squeezing her hand in reassurance, "you have no idea how many lives you've touched with your bravery. In the chaos of Jaku and the war, you were a beacon of hope for so many. Every leap you took, every punch you threw, they weren't just acts of courage — they were beacons of light in the darkness for all those who lost their hope. You saved countless lives with your unwavering determination and your indomitable spirit. Never doubt your abilities, my dear Rabbit Hero Mirko," you urged gently, your words a steadfast anchor amidst the uncertainty. "You are a hero in every sense of the word, and the world is a brighter place because of you. The echoes of your courage will never fade."

Mirko leaned into you, resting her head on your shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice tinged with emotion. "I think that's exactly what I needed to hear today."

[666writingcafe]

An Interview With Simeon

Part Six

Question One: How do you feel right now?

A little tired, but otherwise okay.

Question Two: Would you rather live in the city or in the woods?

I find a lot more inspiration in the woods, plus there aren't nearly as many people. MC says that I'm an introvert because I get my energy from being alone, and I think they might be right. Not that there's anything wrong with groups of people; they just can be draining at times.

Question Three: Do you believe in soulmates?

Absolutely. But I don't believe in exclusivity. There are many types of soulmates, not just the romantic kind. Like, Luke and I are familial soulmates. I was meant to be his guardian, and he was meant to be my kid. *pauses* Don't tell Luke I said that. He hates it when I call him that.

Question Four: Who is the first person you call when you are happy or sad?

When I want to express good news, I call Raphael. He and I have grown fairly close since the war. But he's what I would call a fair-weather friend. He's made it clear that he doesn't want to hear about my struggles, and I've made peace with that. (So who do you call when you need to vent about something?) It depends on what it is. If I just want to gossip, then I reach out to Solomon, but if it's deeper and more existential, I call either MC or Mammon. MC is a great listener, and Mammon's been through a lot of the same things I have. Plus, he's actually willing to share his emotions with me, unlike a certain dark-haired demon I know.

Question Five: What makes you smile on bad days?

Luke and MC doing something together. They're quite cute.

Question Six: How would you feel if your daydreams became real?

In some ways, they already have. Unfortunately, I can't reveal much more than that, or I'd be in a lot of trouble.

Question Seven: What are you proud of right now?

I recently overcame a really bad case of writer's block.

Question Eight: What are you scared about not accomplishing in life?

Contentment.

Question Nine: What do you think about casual relationships and long-term relationships?

I think it's important to communicate those kind of boundaries upfront and check back in frequently to see if they need to change. Otherwise, the relationship isn't going to last, and one or both parties are going to be unhappy.

Question Ten: What do people say about you that you like?

Do you mind if I go on a bit of a tangent? (Does it pertain to the question?) Yes. (Then go ahead.) So, MC gives the best compliments. They have a way of looking deep inside someone's soul and saying what they need to hear. It can get very specific. (Give me an example.) MC once told me that the words I write rival the greatest pieces of art in the human world. They were reading a short story I wrote about nature, except nature was a metaphor for something--or rather, someone else. *pauses* Just thinking about it is making it hard for me to focus on this interview, and I'm sure you have more questions to ask, so we should move on.

Question Eleven: How would you define love?

What an...interesting question. *clears throat* I'd say love consumes you. You can feel it from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet, but its pull is strongest inside your heart. (Have you felt that way about someone before?) I feel that way about someone now, but to reveal who it is would cause an uproar. (Do they at least know how you feel?) Yes, and they've agreed to keep it private.

Question Twelve: How much value do you place on other people’s appreciation?

A lot more than I should. I'm not supposed to care too much about people's opinion of me, because my relationship with Father is suppose to supersede all of that.

Question Thirteen: Have you broken someone’s heart?

Yes.

Question Fourteen: What do you think about “love at first sight?”

I've seen it happen once. A bunch of us did, actually. (Was it during the initial exchange program?) *smiles* It was.

Question Fifteen: If you woke up tomorrow as a person of the opposite gender, what would you do?

The same stuff that I do now. I know, not very exciting. Technically, I could change my physical form to a person of the opposite gender if I wanted to. We only look this way as to not scare off humans. But I like my current appearance. I feel it matches how I feel on the inside.

Question Sixteen: What is the most ridiculous thing you have ever bought for yourself?

A 200 pack of glitter gel pens.

Question Seventeen: What was your last Doogle search?

As soon as I say it, you'll know exactly why I searched for it: "how to put out a magically-induced fire".

Question Eighteen: What do you think attracts people to you?

I'm able to appear calm and peaceful. It doesn't always reflect what I'm feeling, but that's a whole other story.

Question Nineteen: What color is your aura?

A light shade of baby blue.

Question Twenty: If the world ended tomorrow, would you survive?

With help, yes. If I was by myself, however...I don't think I'd last very long.

Question Twenty-One: If your house was on fire, what is the first thing you're grabbing?

Luke. Objects can be replaced. He can't.

Question Twenty-Two: If you could take your favorite celebrity on a date, where would you go?

They enjoy late-night picnics at the park. (You say that as though you've already been on a date with your favorite celebrity.) That's because I have. Several times, as a matter of fact. Although, their fame is subjective. They're not nearly as famous where they come from as they are here in the Devildom.

Question Twenty-Three: If you could shapeshift into an animal, which one would you be?

A human world Arctic fox.

Question Twenty-Four: If you could do anything without any judgment, what would you do right now?

It would require a hotel room with a magical lock on it, soundproof walls, and lots of...shall we say, supplies.

Question Twenty-Five: Do you easily get scared?

Not anymore. I used to, and then the war happened.

Question Twenty-Six: Can you keep a secret?

Can you? *awkward silence* (We should wrap this up.) Good idea.

Question Twenty-Seven: Have you ever felt tongue-tied on a date?

Yes.

Question Twenty-Eight: Can you spend a whole night awake?

I have many times before, and I probably will do many more times in the future.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

[lurkingshan]

I've heard that non-Asian viewers sometimes are surprised by certain behaviours or thought processes (cultural differences) in Asian media when they first start watching Asian shows. Were there any ones that really jumped out at you?

Good question! The short answer is: absolutely, so many.

The long answer is that I think about this all the time and am still constantly learning. I discuss this very often with @waitmyturtles and @neuroticbookworm. I have a very Western mindset and am a fiercely independent person even by Western standards, so I have to constantly remind myself about the collectivist mindset in Asian countries and reframe my own reactions to a lot of the story and characterization choices in Asian media.

I'd say one that I personally struggle with most is the concept of filial piety and elevation of parental authority over one's own well-being. I have cut ties with an abusive biological parent and their toxic larger family, and I have zero guilt or shame about that. For me, it was the right thing to do and if that family ever comes knocking asking me for support they will be turned away without a second thought. But this decision, which felt so natural for me and is culturally acceptable where I live, would be unthinkable in many Asian countries. This came up for me a bunch when I was watching Go Ahead (an all-timer, if you haven't seen it yet run do not walk) and one of the best parts of that watch experience was getting to really feel and understand the vastly different cultural expectations put on a young person living through an analagous situation. Each time I got angry at the choices being forced on these characters, I had to step back and consider their cultural context, and then dig into what the story was trying to communicate about the damage those expectations can cause.

I also discussed this quite a bit with bookworm when we were recently watching I Promised You the Moon together. She is very rooted in an Eastern perspective on expression of emotion (she is more touched by restrained displays where you can tell characters are holding back where I tend to respond more to big emotional outbursts; she responds well to ambiguity in story resolutions where I like for things to feel more definitive), so we sometimes had opposite reactions to scenes and different aspects of the story touched us. We spent a lot of time unpacking it and now like to observe our different preferences when we watch stuff together and think through what it says about the social, spiritual, and broad cultural norms we were raised with on opposite sides of the world.

I have been watching Asian media for years and I still learn new things every day (right now I am watching a Taiwanese drama that is introducing me to an indigenous culture I had no prior familiarity with and I'm learning a bunch), and I try to approach these shows with curiosity first. I think being open to that kind of learning and maintaining willingness to step back from your instinctual reactions and adjust your perspective is especially crucial when you are engaging with media from outside your home culture.

[maxwellatoms]

Hello, I hope you are well. I look forward to the stream on Thursday.

I suppose first I should ask if you would rather me send asks through here or through Patreon. But anyway, here is something I have been wondering. I have quite a bit of a preface though:

I never actually grew up with Grim Adventures. I was a wee little tot when it was airing, so if I was watching TV, I was watching one of those preschool shows. When I did get old enough to start watching shows geared towards older kids, I had just missed out on it. I only got around to watching Grim Adventures and Evil Con Carne rather recently.

But what I did grow up with was Chowder. I never remembered it well as I got older, but what did stick with me was "The Puckerberry Overloads." Child me struggled to comprehend the logic behind how Chowder could be in his own mouth. After rewatching the series recently, I was very surprised and excited to see you were credited as one of the writers and the storyboard artist for the episode. I even recognized your voice from one of the characters. I suppose you really were there all along.

So I wanted to ask, how did you end up doing some work for Chowder? Were you simply a guest of sorts? I also saw you credited as a writer and storyboard artist for another episode in another season, so how did that come to be? What I'm mostly curious about is how that factored all in with the Great Purge.

I would love to hear whatever you are willing to tell me. Thank you for reading.

Thank you for writing!

I'll still be around on here. I think the Patreon is probably a better place to ask questions if you really want an answer, since I'll try to answer every question on there. Here, I tend to cherry-pick and I've got a bit of a backlog.

Long story short, Billy & Mandy eventually wrapped, which left me to do Underfist and develop a couple of other properties for CN. My friend C.H. Greenblatt (creator and voice of Fred Fredburger, and writer of a number of memorable episodes) got his own series, "Chowder". They were having trouble finding a board artist to fill one of the slots, so I said I'd do a board. Greenblatt and I have always helped each other out when we can over the years. Just this year we got to produce Jellystone Season Two together, and it was the best time I've had on a series in a decade.

I did another board for Season Two, and that's about when "The Great Purge" happened. And there was no escaping that for anyone, really.

C.H. Greenblatt and I had a really fun Looney Tunes pitch we sold right before the pandemic hit. Like everything else during that time, it went into Deep Freeze. Maybe one day we can get back to it.

He'll definitely be making an appearance on "Billy & Mandy vs. The Entertainment Industry". More on that soon™!

[heyidkyay]

Blueberry Muffin |

Okay, haven't posted anything much like this before but I've been sick, bored out of my mind, and have recently gotten reacquainted with my love for The 1975. So here's a cringy and crappy short fic for all my Matty Healy fans:) Just a forewarning, this hasn't been edited.

Summary: London, its many strangers, and a whole lot of guessing..?

Mentions: anxiety, food

--

Fuck.

Fuck-fuck-fucking-fuck.

The grit of my teeth had long since begun to hurt my jaw as I ground them together, but I paid it no mind and just continued to aimlessly tap away at my upper thigh. Questioning, once again, why I had forced myself into another one of these situations. Fucking London.

It wasn’t that I was some sort of recluse or anything like that, promise. It’s just that somedays my anxiety grew so intense it made me want to hide away from everything and anything. Even myself. 

But I’d had a somewhat decent nights sleep and woke up feeling alright, so I’d decided to venture out into the city to pick up some things I’d been putting off for a while now. December had come and gone, Christmas a bleary haze, and now that the January sales had finally died down, I figured that things might not be as hectic as they typically were so that I could just pop in and out. 

I really should’ve known better. 

London, even on the slowest of all days, was nothing if not polluted by people. And if there was one thing you could truly rely on, was that not a single one of them gave a shit about you. No, there was none of that Northern politeness here down south. And Central was the worst for it.

Still, it was home, and most days I liked the feeling of being nearly invisible. Because the city was also so incredibly easy to lose yourself in, you could blend seamlessly into the masses and nobody would be none the wiser. Yeah, there was a bump to the shoulder here, and the beep of an oncoming cab there. But no one remembered your face, or even the unhelpful apology that usually followed without a second glance.

Albeit saying that, here I was, stood on some random street corner, somewhere between Carnaby and Soho, outside a cafe or some other, struggling to resemble the simple act of appearing calm.

I was beyond ready to just head home, but knowing the underground like I did and the thought of having to sit within such a close proximity to a hundred other commuters was not something I felt like would help very much at this moment. So I’d ultimately decided to just head over to the nearest coffee shop and grab myself a brew. But yet, I was still stood here, agonising over the fact that to do exactly that, I would ultimately have to go inside and interact with even more people.

It seemed that my anxiety was winning the war this time around, because I just could not see myself doing it. So instead, I kept loitering, letting my eyes roam over the rest of the people that passed by me blissfully unaware. 

As mad as London was, it was also one of the best places to people-watch, there were thousands of people constantly bustling there way around and each of them wore some part of their story on their person. Whether it was a wine stained blouse, an exaggerated yawn, or a neon coloured mohawk peaking ten inches above an otherwise balding head.

So I found myself just idly watching as I took a moment to breathe, propping myself up against the nearest brick wall.

There were a bunch of school lads pissing about a little down the way, shoving and laughing amongst themselves whilst a couple of older women shook their heads in passing. I rolled my eyes and transferred my attention. I couldn’t help but chuckle under my breath at the grinning toddler who then blew past, a struggling parent staggering behind.

The wind today seemed gentle, although a tad bit cold, so I dragged the sleeves of my jumper down over my hands in an attempt to warm them slightly. It was then that a larger group caught my gaze. They had congregated just outside the tiny cafe I was stood beside, six or seven girls around my age, perhaps a little bit younger, all appeared to be clawing for the attention of some bloke they’d crowded around. I surveyed them a little in amusement- Oh, what most men would give, I thought with a soft snort.

I couldn’t see much of him, the man, just the top of his head really. A mass of dark curls. He appeared to be taking the sudden devotion in his stride though, talking back and forth animately, nodding along with enough enthusiasm that his hair sort of followed in a bounce of its own.

Another breeze hit then and as I shivered I wished that I’d remembered to grab my scarf on the way out this morning instead of just my headphones- which, were now almost completely dead. I was helplessly trying to save the last of their battery for the journey home, hoping they’d prove to be a welcomed distraction.

But when I glanced back up, I found that the group had dispersed somewhat. The girls were now wandering further away, all of them adorning huge smiles as their excited eyes kept trailing back over their shoulders. The guy though, had seemed to sort of vanish. Probably having slipped back into the oncoming traffic of people, I supposed. It was then that I silently scolded myself when I noticed I’d been rubbing the back of my thumb over my teeth again. It was an anxious tick of sorts, one that sometimes left my hands raw, and something my mum wholeheartedly hated. 

I smiled slightly at the reminder of her, she’d have started swatting as soon as I’d started up. 

Should probably give her a call later, now that I thought about it, maybe on the way home if I still felt like crap. That woman was godawful when it came to talking, could chat about absolutely anything at the best of times, but always knew how to best cheer me up.

“You alright?” Came a sudden voice, startling me from my tangent of thoughts.

I snapped my head over to where a man now stood about a foot away, leaning casually against the same wall, with a cigarette hanging from his lower lip. He seemed ready to light it from the way he was cradling a lighter just by his chin, but had paused once he’d taken note of my presence.

“Uh,” I stumbled, slightly taken aback. I’d not even realised he’d been stood there, nor was I prepared for an actual conversation. “Yeah, you?” I forced out on instinct, confused by the sudden exchange but not bewildered enough to not give that typical greeting its usual half-arsed reply.

The guy hummed as he lit his cigarette, taking a quick drag before he let it hang loosely between his fingertips. My brow furrowed, certain that this was the same bloke I’d just seen, the one who’d suddenly disappeared from his swarm of adoring fans.

“It’s just,” The man begun again, blowing remnants of smoke out the side of his mouth. “You seem a little jumpy, like you’re waiting for something to happen. Wanted to know what I was getting myself into, standing here beside you. Not plotting nothing, are you?”

I choked a little on my next laugh, a bit disbelieving. “And if I was?” I found myself asking before I could think better of it. 

As the guy shrugged, his lip curled enough to make his nose twitch. The picture of indifference. 

Then he turned to me with a shit-eating grin, “So go on then, who’re you stalking? An old flame, the one who got away… A maths teacher who gave you a crappy mark?”

I quirked a brow. 

“Um,” Unable to stop myself from blowing out a quiet chuckle, “None of the above?” Phrasing it like a question.

“How boring.” The guy dragged out, letting his head fall against the brick work, his curls cushioning its landing. He looked at me then, and I could sort of make out where his eyes were from behind the dark shades he was wearing.

I hummed, feigning offence. “That hurts, coming from you- the guy wearing sunglasses on a day without sun.”

His mouth twitched as he took another drag. “It’s London, love. There’s never any sun.”

I shook my head at him and looked away in attempt to hide my smile.

It was quiet for a few moments after that, but he was still stood there so I figured that that had been the end of our short interaction. My anxiety had dulled somewhat but I couldn’t help the way I’d begun to play with the zip of my jacket, eyes scanning the crowds as my mind found a soft rhythm in the metal’s sound. 

My attention differed when I heard him move again and glanced over to find him stumping out his fag beneath the heel of his boot. When he met my gaze he held it for a slow second before he said, “Wait here, yeah.”

He wandered off then, too quickly for me to question him or utter a reply to that strange demand, he’d just left me to watch him round the corner. 

And so I frowned, staring into the space he’d just occupied, before a huffy laugh slipped out and I found myself shaking my head once again.

Living in London, you met the oddest sorts. Someone asking for something or other as they passed you by, another nutter off their head offering up their life story as you waited for the bus to come. But I’d never really had an exchange like that.

Wait here. I mulled the words over.

With nothing better to do, and not really sensing any immediate danger headed my way, I decided to take perch on the cobbled curb of the side street I’d been lingering on. If I was going to wait, then I’d sit and do so. I couldn’t much be arsed to stand about any longer. My legs were already stiff from standing for ages trying to pluck up enough courage to head into that stupid coffee shop, and the wind had decided then to pick up. 

Besides, the guy hadn’t been half-bad to look at, I could see why the girls had grown quite attached. 

So it was there that the stranger found me when he returned, lips pursed as he rounded the corner. When he noticed me sat there though his smile widened and he manoeuvred himself quite quickly onto the curb beside me, easily enough that he didn’t upset the cardboard tray he held in one hand and the bag he had in the other.

“Thought you’d wandered off for a second there.” He commented, dropping the bag between his folded legs to pluck a drink from the tray. He then handed the warm cup to me and I seemed to take it on impulse. “Good that you hadn’t though, would’ve gone to waste otherwise.” He added as he gestured with his head towards the steaming cup I now cradled confusedly. He was rummaging around for the bag again before I could even work up the words to question what was happening. He tossed it towards me. “That too.”

“Um…” I said, eyes flitting between the drink, the bag, and the man himself. 

“A thanks wouldn’t go amiss.” I heard him say, and finally looked back up to find him wearing an amused but cocky smirk.

“What?”

He gestured at the cup again and I peered down, taking note of the logo which I then realised belonged to small cafe sat beside us.

“This is for me?”

He just stared blankly back at me.

“Why?” I finally questioned, coming to my senses.

“Why not?” He retorted smartly, already sipping at his own drink.

I blinked whilst I tucked a small strand of hair behind my ear, unsure.

“It’s not poisoned.”

With a unhelpful snort I said, “Sounds promising. What is it then?”

“Was gonna grab you a coffee- figure, everyone likes coffee.” He started with an animated shrug. “But you seemed a bit jittery already, so went with tea instead. Oh,” He stopped to pull a couple of tiny pots from his coat pocket and dumped them onto the road between us. “Milk.”

“And if I liked sugar?” I found myself teasing as I opened the plastic lid, pouring in a good amount of milk into the dark brew. I blew at the rim to watch the steam whirl into the air before I took a small sip, my eyes found his, still hidden behind those dark glasses he wore.

“Then I’d tell you to go fuck yourself.”

“Fair enough.” I chuckled, liking his bluntness, then held up the cup as I added, “Thank you, though- for this.”

He simply waved me off. As though it was no big deal.

I set the tea down on the pavement beside me for a moment to peer into the bag he’d tossed my way. I tried to bite back a pleased grin when I turned to him. “We’re sharing this, by the way.”

His forehead wrinkled from over his cup.

“Bossy, I like it.” Was what he came out with, before he dipped his chin slightly in discouragement. “But no, you’re all good. Have it.”

I shook my head at him. “Come on, we can split it.” I said, already pulling the sweet treat he’d purchased halfway out of the paper bag. 

He quirked a brow. “How? It’s a muffin, just keep it.”

“It’s blueberry though.”

The guy just looked back at me, lost but somewhat curious. “What the fuck does it being blueberry have to do with it?”

“Everything. Blueberry muffins are the best sort.” I shrugged as though the answer had been obvious, pulling at the cake’s top to split it horizontally through the middle. I handed him his half then shook the crumbs off of my jacket sleeve. “I’m taking the top part though, sorry.” I added, already tearing into the dome shaped top.

He adverted his gaze between myself and the cased muffin’s bottom a few times. Almost like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

I hummed in appreciation at the sweet flavour that coated my tongue before peering back over at him, he seemed to be watching me but I couldn’t be sure.

“What?” I question, feeling a tad self-conscious under his gaze.

“Blueberry. You’re claiming that blueberry is the best of all the muffin flavours. That’s astounding to be frank. I’m actually baffled. I mean, blueberry… Really?”

I merely grinned.

“Really.”

He shook his head, holding his tongue between his front teeth to keep from smiling too.

He kicked a leg out then, sitting his drink on the gravel road to take a taste of the soft treat. He seemed to mull the flavour over a bit before he finally grunted, “It’s alright.”

“Alright? Just alright?” I retorted, almost offended on the muffin’s behalf. “This-“ I held up my segment, “is almost perfect.”

One word seemed to catch his attention though, he cocked a brow. “Almost?”

I hummed, not bothering with a reply as I broke off another chunk and tossed it into my mouth.

His tongue danced over his lower lip and left the topic be. I took the moment to grab my tea again, appreciating the warmth of it in my palms. That’s when I caught the name sharpied onto its side.

I snorted, “What’s with Frankenstein?”

His eyebrows lifted up over the rim of his glasses as he turned to face me, but he seemed to make sense of what I’d meant when he caught me cradling the cup. He laughed but didn’t comment any further.

I couldn’t help my smile by this point, “Come on. What’s your real name then?”

He smirked. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

“Um, so I can thank you properly?” I suggested, but immediately wished I hadn’t.

“Properly, hm?” He parroted back, that cocky smile of his was back in full beam. “I can think of a hundred different ways you could thank me properly without even needing to know my name.”

His grin only grew wider when he saw the mostly disgusted look plastered on my face. I scoffed playfully.

“I might’ve just been stood on a street corner, but I can promise you now that that’s not happening.”

A sharp bark erupted from him, but it didn’t seem to garner any attention from anyone else, as though we’d created our own little bubble. “I like it. But we’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes but decided to move on. “You’re really not going to give me your name then?”

He acted as though he was mulling it over. “What do I get in return?” He asked with a small jerk of his chin, then seeing my unimpressed stare, he added, “I’m just messing about, darling. How about- you guess it.”

“You’re not being serious.” At his nod, I all but groaned, “How am I supposed to guess your name? Do you know how long we could be sat here?”

He shrugged a shoulder and went in for another bite of the blueberry muffin. “Don’t know, but you’re the one who’s guessing so I’d get started.”

I thinned my lips. “At least give me a clue then.”

He eyed me for a moment, then wiped at his mouth before he ultimately dipped his head. “Alright. But this is your only one, yeah?”

I thought about it briefly then nodded unhappily, it was probably the best offer I was going to get out of him. 

He grinned as though he’d won some sort of prize, but before I could snark back he was prattling away again. “Okay. It’s common, I’ll give you that. But that's all you’re getting.”

“Common.” I thought about it as I brought a knee up to my chest to rest my chin against. “So are we talking Bible sort of common, or just British?”

“Ah, ah, ah. That’s cheating. Only the one clue, remember.”

I exhaled huffily before chewing on the inside of my cheek. 

“Jack.” I guessed.

He shook his head.

“John?”

He snorted, “No.”

“James? Jacob!”

“Fuck me, what’s with all the J’s?”

“So it doesn’t start with a J.” I smiled triumphantly but my victory was rapidly swept away when he hit back with, “Never said that.”

Even with his denial, I switched it up a bit and took the time to carefully observe him. He definitely seemed like someone who owned his name. Meaning, that he wasn’t a Tom who looked a lot more like a Harry. 

Immediately I removed those two names from the mental list I was rapidly curating, deciding that they didn’t much suit him.

I was almost unaware of myself as I looked at him, taking in the small details he offered to the world. The hollow of his cheeks, the scruff on his chin, the wrinkles dotted around his mouth and hairline. I wished for a moment to see the colour of his eyes then, believing that they might share a few more of his secrets.

“Oli?” I tried, then instantly decided against it, “How about George?”

He shook his head again at the first, and laughed a little harder at the second. I chewed at my lip. 

“This is difficult.”

He hummed, obviously finding amusement in my struggle as he sipped at his drink again.

I tapped away at my knee before kicking my leg out in mild frustration, not thinking too hard about the way my boot had lightly nicked his extended leg.

“Um,” I drawled out in dwindling thought. “William, but you keep it short… So, Will?”

“Nope.” 

“Christopher?”

“Look, you’re close with the length.” He mentioned. 

I grinned at him in complete surprise and he grunted unhappily when the realisation hit him that he’d just offered me up another clue.

“Nicholas? I think you could be a Nick-” I paused, tilting my head one way, then another. “No wait, actually no.” I grimaced at the thought, then sighed. “I have zero clue here.”

“Ah, come on, love. You can’t give up just as you’re getting close.” He encouraged, I pulled a face at him, hating the fact that he was finding this whole charade entertaining.

“Just tell me.” I pleaded.

“Nah.”

“Come on. Why not?”

He shook his head, smiling all the while. “‘Cause.”

I narrowed my eyes.

Taking another aggressive bite out of my muffin, I let my gaze roam over his attire, taking in the dark oversized pilots jacket he had layered over a slightly longer linen shirt, which was a few shades lighter than that of his trousers. The trousers were crumpled from the way he’d chosen to sit but otherwise seemed to fit him well, a beige sort of colour that led straight into a pair of heavy black docs.

A few more names lingered on the tip of my tongue but ultimately I decided on, “Matthew.”

His face perked up upon hearing it and I was celebrating before he could even confirm it for me. 

“Fucking dragged that out.” He said with false fatigue, to which I swatted his arm for, but he leant away, chuckling all the while. 

When I relented he made a show out of repositioning himself- somewhat closer now than he had originally been, which I vaguely noticed but chose not to comment on. He rubbed at the tip of his nose briefly then, before he finally- finally- tugged off those godawful glasses he wore, making a home for them in his nest of curls.

I quietened down.

Brown. His eyes were brown. And they were bright and earnest and wrinkled by his smile.

I couldn’t not grin right back at him. 

“Matthew.” I practically declared, happy to have won. 

He shook his head in laughter, “Now, before you go getting ahead of yourself, it’s actually Matty.”

Hm, yeah, that sounded more like him. 

“Matty.” I couldn’t help but repeat, somewhat quieter than before.

We shared a look then that seemed to last a century and yet a second. I blinked. 

“Am I gonna have to guess yours now? Payback and all that.” Matty queried, and had somehow procured a pack of cigarettes in his hands. He lit one.  

“Oo, should I?” I ask, half tempted, and finished off the dregs of my muffin, wiping away what little remained. “Feel like we’d be here all day then.”

Matty offered up the lit cigarette. He’d already taken a slow drag, and I wasn’t much of a smoker, but it had honestly been a day, so I accepted, watching him as I inhaled.

“Is it something cool?” He quizzed, palms splayed out now across the pavement behind us as he relaxed further. I frowned at him, not catching what he meant. “Your name.” He chuckled.

“Oh, I dunno really. Bit uncool to say your name’s cool though, ain’t it?”

“Depends on whether your name’s actually cool or not.” Matty commented, and I couldn’t not laugh as he continued on, “If you’ve got a generic fucking name like- I don’t know- Andy, and think it’s proper cool then that’s just a bit sad. I mean, Andy. Really? How bland can you be? But you come out with something like Megatron, then…” He shrugged, “You’re sort of set for life. Kids will think your sick, and you’d be in there the second you mention it when you’re out trying to pull.”

“I fucking doubt that.”

“Ah, come on! You mean to tell me you wouldn’t shag a bloke called Ezekiel or some crap like that?” Matty demanded, seemingly in disbelief.

“Ezekiel- where the fuck have you just pulled that name from?” I couldn’t not ask.

“Hebrew, ain't it?” Matty brushed over, before continuing on with his argument. I just sat there and listened, chiming in here and there to wind him up further, but was mostly entertained by his take on the topic.

“Fuck!” He all but shouted with a strangled sort of laugh— in the time he’d been ranting, he’d already lit two more cigarettes and downed the last of his coffee. “Why’d you let me ramble on? I was meant to be getting your name!”

I smiled and moved to sit in a more comfortable position, crossing my legs. “You can talk for England, you. Not my fault you don’t know when to shut up.”

Matty didn’t seem to mind the jeering, he snorted as he sidled closer on the curb. “So go on, your name.” He prompted, brown eyes teasing and bright under the afternoon sun.

I rolled my own before letting them stray to the left, up and over to where people still seemed to be bustling past the side street, unaware of us, or just uncaring.

“Y/n.” I relented, turning my head back towards Matty.

He stared long and hard at me for a second, appearing to rest my name between the cusp of his teeth, right there on the tip of his tongue. And then he spoke, “Y/n. Suits you.” 

I quirked a brow, “Oh, yeah?”

Matty hummed with a smile. “Yeah. Reckon I could’ve guessed it easily.”

I couldn’t help the god awful snort I released as I shook my head in exasperation, hair brushing against the shoulders of my jacket as it fell forward. “You’re a twat.”

But he didn’t seem to mind it.

[mysteria157]

hello hello mystie 🩷 bon has decided to visit you once again.

i am recently going through quite some turbulence with my writing. i have been working on a aot reiner piece for quite some time but it's been feeling rather... unfulfilling? i guess i just want to open up a bit.

as a black woman, i've seen a number of posts on here of other woc having takes about how we should 'embrace our blackness' and write our fics in a way that reflects that. i always understood that this is a valid opinion, as we are often pushed by society to 'calm' ourselves down and water down our personalities and our way of speaking (often not to fall subject to a number of disheartening stereotypes.)

but i've come to a more different, personal conclusion over the past few months. i am a black south african girl who grew up watching british cartoons in order to learn english. my mother took me to a catholic school where english was the language of instruction and we had a similar education system as most british schools (colonisation has a role in this system but that's a discussion for another day.)

i've always been called 'whitewashed' as i am fluent in the language. there's still heavy racial tension where i'm from, so ever since i was little i was compared to speaking as a white person. a 'coconut' if we want to go that far, lol.

besides this, we've become more westernised and my peers around me began to see the struggle of african americans as our own (since we're all experiencing the same biases and discrimination as poc.) now for some reason, seeing the takes of other woc made me feel as if the way i write and speak was incorrect. i felt like a phony, like someone who was dodging away from racism by writing like a 'white person' to stay unattacked.

to cut this short (as this has already been quite long), your writing put things into perspective for me. it might not be 'that deep' but seeing another black woman write and speak similar to myself has healed a small part of me. not only is your writing excellent, but it makes me feel as if that i don't have to pretend to be the stereotypical black writer all the time.

that my way of writing does not make me any less 'black'. i now know exactly how i want to create stories and write them down, as i always could've done.

thank you for being the talented individual that you are. love you lots.

-Bonnie 🩷

Hello my beautiful, Bonnie 💕

I apologize for the delay, I’ve been traveling for work so my activity on Tumblr has been low recently.

It’s a weird sensation of fate to read your post, because I resonate with your thoughts deeply. Growing up as a military child, I moved frequently, so I never really had a “home” like others. The friends that I had were all military children too and made up a melting pot of race, diversity, and background. I did not have a primarily black friend group and because of this, others often made fun of me for not being “black” enough. The way I spoke, wrote, dressed, and my mannerisms were all representative of a “whitewashed” version of a black woman. The concept of whitewashed is a topic for another day 😒

I’ve dealt with being called an “inside out Oreo”and constantly heard the annoying micro-aggression of “talking really well for someone like myself.” And for years it bothered me more that I wanted to feel and act like others, instead of embracing myself. Thankfully, I got over that.

Joining Tumblr and finding a community of black writers has been a great experience, and I definitely agree that we should ‘embrace our blackness’, but embrace it in a way that represents YOU. Not everyone else.

For myself, I embrace with what I write about, not necessarily how I write. Because I write how I think and talk, but I try to share plot and experiences that normally resonate with who I am as a black woman. Cookouts, extended family mannerisms and traditions, how I do my hair and take care of my skin, etc.

You are not a phony and you are not ‘whitewashed’. You’re Bonnie, and Bonnie writes how Bonnie speaks, acts, and feels. Period.

In my opinion, trying to write a certain way to appeal to someone else only takes away from your own authenticity. This isn’t to invalidate someone else’s experience, but you shouldn’t have to pretend to embrace your ‘blackness’. Being able to overcome this feeling is such a strength that you should continue to hold close 💕

Girl, look at me rambling LMFAO. THE POINT IS, I’m so happy that I was able to help you embrace more of who you are. I’m happy that you enjoy my words. I’m happy that you have the strength to create how you want. And I’m just…really happy for meeting you 🥹

Create your stories however you want. As long as Bonnie is happy and Bonnie is enjoying it and Bonnie is not intentionally hurting others, that’s all that should matter.

Love you lots as well. Thank you for being the beautiful mootie that you are 💕😘

[ofliterarynature]

AUGUST 2024 WRAP UP

[loved liked ok nope DNF (bookclub) reread*]

True Grit • A Sorceress Comes to Call • (Fit for the Gods) • A Short Walk Through a Wide World • The Chestnut King* • Where the Drowned Girls Go • The Hollow Boy* • The Philosopher's Flight • The Whispering Skull* • Death by Silver • Grandma Gatewood's Walk • Across the Green Grass Fields • Tales from the Hinterland • The Screaming Staircase* • Ascension • Running Close to the Wind • August Kitko and the Mechas from Space

* * * * * *

Lockwood & Co - time for a reread! I really like the idea of ghost books but struggle to find ones that I like, but these are perfect! The worldbuilding and story structure is somehow just what I want - just enough rules to give them the confidence to be bad ass AND tension for when they royally screw up, and a fantastic, case-book type narrative where the characters are going about their lives, fighting ghosts, and not actually getting to the titular case until halfway through the book. Love it! I need more like that actually. (I recommend The Angel of the Crows)

Tales from the Hinterland -since I finally read The Language of Thorns I figured I should get around to this too. I didn't like the related novels all that much but WAS interested in the stories, but it's been so long I've mostly forgotten their context. I didn't mind it, and I think Albert has a better grasp on the language and form of fairy tales than Bardugo, but the inescapable grimness of the stories quickly became repetitive and boring.

Across the Green Grass Fields - it took me a bit to warm up to this one, but once we went through the door I had a good time! I think this is probably my favorite of the individual door stories so far. On the other hand, I usually like the ensemble books, but Where the Drowned Girls Go didn't quite work for me this time, but it might be one that just needs a second read.

Grandma Gatewood's Walk - I've seen this one around (most recently at a Hocking Hills gift shop) and finally picked it up since my library had it on audiobook. Unfortunately it was doing a lot of things that annoy me about certain nonfiction and while it was readable and interesting, I wouldn't say I enjoyed it or would recommend it.

Death by Silver - a gaslamp mystery/gay romance that was fun! If you like a mystery that is, the "romance" coasts along on the "old school friends/hookup buddies" line and doesn't really get any development (or steaminess), but things do keep moving and it was a nice enough read that I'd maybe try some of the author's other work (but maybe not the sequel)

The Philosopher's Flight - I don't even know. It *was* a good read that moved along well, BUT... I don't want to lay everything at the feet of "it was written by a man," but it definitely had its effects. Stories about girls and women going into a man's world and showing them all up are pretty common and catnip to me (Keladry my beloved), but something about a man doing it in a women's organization that exists in a patriarchal society WITH a heavy political-unrest plot going on as well, and despite the abundance of female characters none of them are well developed? And the main character is just a bland-ass dude? It really didn't sit well with me, and I do not want to read the sequel.

The Chestnut King - I'm glad to be done with this series reread. They're honesty just a perfectly middling MG fantasy series, slightly dated but charmingly midwestern in many ways. Kids would probably enjoy it more, but there's not much for an older reader.

A Short Walk Through a Wide World - going in I knew this was being pitched as sort of cozy, and being comp'd to Addie Larue (which I didn't like in execution). Fairly accurate on both counts tbh, and I thought the curse in this one worked much better - the problem with Addie was that the inability for anyone to remember her didn't allow for any connections to make things interesting, whereas A Short Walk's not being able to stay longer than a few days or ever return offers *just* enough to be heartbreaking. Unfortunately there just wasn't much of a shape to the overall story and I was so bored I almost DNF'd. If you're more into the books being marketed as "cozy fantasy" you might have a better time of it than me.

Fit for the Gods - aka "Greek Mythology Reimagined," which feels self explanatory. Anthologies are always a bit of a mixed bag, but I really liked this! Especially compared to the previous anthology (Sword Stone Table), there was only one story I didn't really like, but otherwise really vibed with everything else! I also learned that most of my myth knowledge that's stuck around is from Percy Jackson, lol. (Not to mention the reincarnation story that mentioned Percy Jackson! I cackled XD)

A Sorceress Comes to Call - LOVED!!! Regency house party, magic, murder, mystery is so so SO up my alley. I've seen people call this a stressful book, and I get it, the mother is awful and things are definitely tense, but something was telling me that things would turn out ok for the main characters and I was able to enjoy myself lol. It also helped that it became quickly obvious that the mother was very full of herself and overconfident, even if she was terrifying. I think this is tied with Thornhedge for my favorite Kingfisher so far, though I might rate this a little lower on quality. If you liked this I really recommend checking out the Greenwing & Dart series by Victoria Goddard!

True Grit - meh. Picked this up through a combination of podcast rec/book sale find/needed to read another classic. The kid's got spunk, but that's all I've really got to say. Came very close to dnf'ing, but at least it was short.

DNF

Ascension - 25%. I was really looking forward to making a "if I had a nickle for every book about a mountain mysteriously appearing somewhere it shouldn't, I'd have two nickles" joke, but alas. This started off pretty good, going with the classic "I found these papers among my brother's affects after a long mysterious life" that I was REALLY excited about. Then we actually got to the story and the main character was just Most Special Genius Science Boy, and the way his ex-wife was being written was absolutely bleh. I looked a bit closer at the reviews and decided to dump it. (Other mountain book is My Volcano and you should read it!!!! It's so weird!!)

Running Close to the Wind - 11%. Was this funny? Yes. Was this super horny? Yes. Was this funny and super horny? Super yes. I can really appreciate what was happening here, it's just unfortunately not a style I can consume in anything larger than small bites. I decided to part ways before my feelings really soured.

August Kitko and the Mechas from Space - 41%. I honestly did like what I read, it just wasn't speaking to me? I can see this being a great book for someone, I just had other things I wanted to read more.

[gilbirda]

for the ask game: Danny Arkham Security Guard?

I've been curious where you're at with that for a while (I assumed the muse has fled and/or you're too busy with other fics), so had to pick that one when I saw it on the list 👀

From this WIP ask game

Haha! I knew someone would ask about it!

Honestly I have struggled a lot with picking this bad boy up... When I finally did a few months ago, the last edit was July 2022 😭

Long story short, summer 2022 was the time I really went down the spiral with Hardcover ship and literally every idea I had was for those two. I think what happened was that I realized there was an untapped potential and market for romance and all the classic romance tropes in DP fandom (I understood why that was the case, but still I was frustrated because I hadn't seen a single fic that made me crazy about any ship in DP) and it left me wanting.

Then I wrote Arkham Guard Danny and I did the bit where Jazz almost shoots Jason, and then I liked the dynamics between him and the siblings and I literally said in the AN if I ended up shipping him, I was debating between Jazz and Danny. *laughs in irony*

So basically I went "what if I write every romance story trope but Jazz/Jason?" and the rest is history.

And every damn time I went back to Arkham Guard Danny, I re read it and realized.... Is just so bad. I saw flaws everywhere. I saw bad characterization. I saw "angry robin Jason" and a bunch of things I don't stand by anymore and I felt like there was no way I could continue that fic and the difference wouldn't be felt. Was I too harsh with myself? Absolutely, but we are our worst critic.

Also? I felt the project running away from me. I started developing worldbuilding and ideas and I got mad because Arkham Guard is supposed to be simple. It used to be the "simple fic" I did while I focused on my magnum opus for DP fandom (Eldritch Ghost King Danny AU - "You and me and our best friend makes three"). If it got complicated I didn't want to write it anymore. And then it did and I dropped it.

Recently I went through a really bad situation and it kind of killed any want to write for dpxdc. I thought - why not go back to the basics? Revisit what really made me start in the fandom, what made me get a bunch of comments like "i got into dpxdc because of this fic". Took me back to when I started, how simple it felt to just write a fic and drop it to the ether and not worry about the things that made me want to stop forever.

So I did. Feels good to pick this up again!

I could go on forever but I won't continue rambling about this project (✿◡‿◡)

If you read up to this point, here's a little bit of what I have so far!

---

“Children,” Alfred stood from his seat, positioning himself between the brothers and their guest. “Let her breathe.”

“It’s okay, Mr. — uh…” She blushed as she realized she never asked for his name.

“Alfred,” the butler smiled, “Alfred Pennyworth.”

“Mr. Pennyworth,” she nodded politely. “I’m fine. I am aware that after that… theatrical spectacle, explanations are needed.”

“Indeed.” Batman cut in the conversation. “Proper explanations are in order. After I deliver the Joker to Arkham.”

“You can’t be serious!” Did the old man go crazy? Back to that wretched place?

Jazz frowned, seemingly sharing his thoughts. She leaned closer to the microphone and spoke in a controlled voice. “Where are you delivering him? In the hospital.”

Bruce took way too long to answer, so Tim did it for him. “Through the front door?”

Jazz didn’t find it funny. “Wait for me.”

“What?”

“I said, wait for me.” Jazz reached for her discarded jacket, eyeing the door to the elevator back to the manor. “Joker is my patient and I need to be there.”

“What for?”

She turned to look at Jason. “He doesn’t deserve to be left at the mercy of some of the people in the Asylum. They could—”

“He can rot for all I care.”

The vigilante walked up to her, getting in her way and using his height and build to scare her into submission. Jazz held his gaze, defiant, muscles tense and ready to throw down if needed.

“You don’t know that place like I do.”

Jason huffed. “Whatever the inmates want to do to him, he deserves it.”

“I wasn’t talking about the inmates.” Her teal eyes steeled with fury. “Arkham has a history of staff abusing their authority.”

[littleplasticrat]

Writer Interview Tag

I'm grateful to have been tagged by @tellmeallaboutit, @my-favourite-zhent and @beesht. Sorry it took so long for me to get around to. Honestly I am blown away that anyone would put me in a 'writer' bucket with the other word crabs

Tellmeallaboutit's interview

My-favourite-zhent's interview

Beesht's interview

My answers below the cut for some NSFW discussion

When did you start writing?

The most recent bout of writing started in December 2023 and was prompted by being insatiably horny for Gortash. This is the first time I've written fanfiction.

I wrote a short novel from 2012-2013 and would put that in the fantasy YA category about a magician who falls in love with a phoenix.

As a kid, I wrote a lot, up until around the age of 16 or so when I realised that I didn't want to live the life of a struggling artist and so set my sights on getting work with more consistent pay than writing books.

I actually do quite a lot of writing for my current job. It's industry-specific instructional writing but I feel that some of the meta-skills are applicable between the two genres.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I really only read horror short fiction recreationally, and I've only written one horror story - which I found super challenging and wouldn't really want to tackle again. Luckily, I'm able to excise the horrors by running TTRPG games and thus don't have to deal with the difficult challenge of making something sound scary.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I haven't been compared to any writers - I simply haven't written enough stuff that isn't solid filth XD

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

Up until I moved house last week, I had a dedicated home office with a large drawing tablet and my mother's boarding school desk from the 1960s. Until I can get an office set up in the guest bedroom of the new house (I'm in no rush), I'm on my laptop at the dining table downstairs or a local cafe.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I try to preach that a hobby should be treated like self-care and so not be a source of stress, but I have the heart of a procrastinator and the bones of a perfectionist; if I waited for the muse to strike me with creative stuff, I wouldn't get anything done.

So, if I'm feeling wigged out about life, I'm not going to force anything, but otherwise I have a 'smash it out' approach of breaking down the work as much as possible and going from there. Any writing I do therefore starts life as a series of bullet points of what exactly I want to happen and in what order, and I build out methodically from there.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

The thrill of fancying someone a lot? Horniness? Butt stuff? LOL

What is your reason for writing?

I want to be the freak I want to see in the world.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Any comment I get is like JAZZ HANDS. Seriously! It's so flattering to have someone slow down and look at my stuff, let alone acknowledge it.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I once read a shitty horror novel where the villain was able to destroy the protagonist's life, because she'd read all his books and so knew him. That rattled me so hard! There's no way I'm skillful enough to develop an authorial voice that isn't my own. So, like, don't think about what my disgusting fanfics say about who I am as a person please [jk]

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I'd say the action is pretty clear, and I can crack a joke at the right time. What more could a reader ask for?

How do you feel about your own writing?

I would like there to be more of it but my art will take priority for now <3

I think most people I know write on here have already been tagged several times, so I shall not tag further.

[queenofhyruleee]

Link/Reader Story

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

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

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

Again. 

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

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

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

Like he would probably do again after today. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you the potions-maker?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m Link.” 

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

“I could say the same about you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re joking, right?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think we’ll see him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Link’s eyes hardened. “And did he?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.” 

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

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

“It’s not my lunch, don’t worry.” 

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

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

“For me?”  For what felt like the millionth time that day, your chest swelled with gratitude for the blonde. 

“You know.. just in case.” 

It was both charming and upsetting. It was extremely sweet that Link was concerned and thinking about you. But it made your heart sink to think that Elis, someone who claimed to love you, couldn’t even be bothered. You tried your hardest to fight back the tears as you nodded and accepted the meal. 

Link seemed to let out a breath of relief, smiling gently as he watched you pull the bread out and nibble on the edge. 

“Please promise me you will take better care of yourself.” 

You just nodded, your mouth full of bread. He narrowed his eyes and leaned down, his face just inches away from yours. You froze, suddenly feeling nervous at his proximity. 

“Promise.” 

His face was once again serious, but his eyes were soft. Caring. 

You swallowed the bread you had been chewing and nodded again, genuine this time. “I promise, Link.” 

He continued to stare, unmoving. “You promise what?”

You groaned, making a face. “Really?”

But his stoic expression told you that he was not joking. 

“I promise that I will take better care of myself,” you muttered, feeling like a child who was being scolded. He still didn’t move for a few moments, however, continuing to search your eyes with an unreadable expression. Finally, he stood up and nodded once. 

“Good. I expect to see you eating every day from here on out. On your own,” he added. “Not waiting for a meal that will never show.” 

The meaning behind his words cut deep, and once again you were reminded that the one person who was supposed to care about you didn’t seem to. 

But at least you had Link. 

 A loud squeal brought you back to the present, where you hadn’t even realized you zoned out. 

“Oh here it comes!”

And sure enough, the royal carriage came into view, pulled by two gigantic horses. What little sunlight remained reflected beautifully off of the gold exterior, the different jewels that decorated it sparkling magnificently. The fabric top was not in place, giving the crowd an unobstructed view of the figure standing inside. 

Princess Zelda was the vision of beauty and grace as she smiled and waved to the crowd. Her blonde hair was pulled out of her slim face and back into an intricate braid that was adorned with flowers that matched the white and lavender dress she was wearing.  A small but genuine and warm smile graced her lips, and her eyes were sharp and alert as she scanned her surroundings and took in the sight of her subjects. She exuded a sense of strength and unity, which was something the people of Hyrule had desperately needed for so long. 

Once again, your train of thought was broken by an obnoxious squeal. 

“There he is! I told you! I told you we’d see him!” The girl next you jumped up and down, not even realizing that she bumped into you every time she did so. Her friend was leaning heavily over the side of the rope, trying to get the best view possible. You held your breath, feeling anxious all of the sudden for a reason you didn’t understand. 

His hair was the first thing you spotted, the navy cap contrasting heavily with the blonde locks that weren’t quite as well tamed as the rest of him. The pristine white trousers and navy and crimson tunic hugged his athletic figure generously, showcases the strength he had built over years of hard work and fighting. His sword was strapped to his back, ready to be pulled at a moment’s notice if needed. But what you noticed most about the knight was the way that he carried himself as he marched alongside the carriage. 

He held his chin high, shrouded with an air of confidence well earned from countless successful battles. Despite his tall and muscular frame, he was endlessly graceful, almost gliding along the ground. His bright blue eyes were alert and sharp, and he scanned the crowd continuously, making sure there were no imminent threats to the princess or otherwise. 

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him, suddenly finding yourself enamored with everything about him. Telma’s words from earlier came back to you as you continued to stare. 

A knight in shining armor. 

There was a phrase to describe Link if there ever was one. From his strength, to his courage, to his generosity, to his kindness. He was the embodiment of a true knight. 

Suddenly, you found yourself once again reliving the memory of the two of you in your shop, concern etched into his face as he stared down at you. 

“Please promise me you will take better care of yourself.” 

“I’m not worried about other people. I’m worried about you.”

An intense feeling of loneliness and longing washed over you, making it harder for you to breathe. You bit down on your lip as you fought to hold back the tears that suddenly welled up in your eyes. 

Whoever Link chooses will be the luckiest person in all of Hyrule. To have someone who cares so openly, someone with such a good heart.. Not someone who would continuously abandon plans and give half-hearted excuses for why he can’t come. 

But what you had told Telma was true. You were a nobody with no money to your name. You had nothing to offer anyone. Elis was rich and had status. For someone like him to be with someone like you was almost unheard of. It would be silly to get caught up on something as silly as feelings when you were being given more than what you deserved. 

It still hurt though. And the tears still came, spilling over and sliding down your cheeks. 

“He’s getting closer! Oh my goddesses, he’s almost right in front of us!!” The girl next to you grabbed her friend, shaking her with excitement. You watched from the corner of your eye as they quickly rushed to fix their hair and straighten out their dresses that had been ruffled in all the commotion. 

You found yourself annoyed at their behavior, but appreciated the heads up. With you being in the front, there was a very good chance that Link would see you. And he couldn’t see you crying. You turned away, trying to hide your face as you wiped frantically at the tears. But it seemed like the more you tried, the more the tears came. You began to panic, which only added to the strong emotions that you were feeling and made everything worse. 

You turned back around, planning to just sneak a quick peek to see how much time you had before he walked by. If he was too close, you planned to just turn around and stay turned around until he was well past you. Sure it would look funny, but he wouldn’t know that that was the back of your head in the crowd. 

But unfortunately, just like it had been for the entire day, luck was not on your side. As soon as you turned around, piercing blue eyes met your red and watery ones. 

You immediately straightened up, wiping frantically at your face and trying to plaster on a smile that was horribly unconvincing. Link’s eyes widened as he took in your appearance, and you could see that he was visibly struggling to keep his facial features calm.

“Annessa, he’s looking at you! I can’t believe it, he’s looking at you!!!”

The girl’s voices sounded far away as she screeched at the girl next to you, whose name was apparently Annessa. The only thing you could focus on was Link and the pained expression he worse on his face as he fought against whatever emotions he was currently feeling. 

Once again you tried to give him an unconvincing smile, but it was the ultimate failure as your lips quivered and you had to put your hand over your mouth to hide the sob that came out. 

Did he know? Did he know how pathetic you were? How you weren’t even worth your own partner’s time? Surely he had to know that, as someone who was one of the most popular men in the entire kingdom. He was only nice to you because that’s who he was. He was a nice person. 

You maintained eye contact with him for as long as you could, but eventually you had to turn away, embarrassed by your emotions and how unstable you appeared. When you brought your head back up, Link was no longer looking at you. He looked forward as he continued to march on. 

Exactly. He knew that you weren’t worth it. That you were an embarrassment. 

But what you weren’t expecting was for him to turn his head, glancing back over his shoulder to get one last look at you. You weakly waved, and he frowned before turning back around and continuing to look forward. 

“Did you see that?? He even looked back at you!! You made the Link do a double take!!!” 

The girls next to you jumped up and down in excitement, squealing on and on about Link and something about marriage and children. You weren’t sure because you tuned them out. You tuned everything out. That feeling of numbness returned, which you were grateful for, and you spent the rest of the procession staring at the ground, blissfully unaware of anything happening around you. 

Eventually the procession had ended and the crowd began to clear, excitement still in the air as the chatted about the day’s events to each other and made their way home or to the bars. It was nighttime now, so the party would likely continue for most of the adults, whether that was in the tavern or at private parties around the city. 

For you, you were just happy that you could finally make your way home. You did not want to party, you did not want to socialize. You wanted to crawl into your bed and never get out. You wanted to physically become one with the pillows. 

As you approached the shop, you had a stupid hope in your heart that maybe Elis would be there waiting for you. That he had come late to the bar to meet you, and when he couldn’t find you in the crowd he decided to wait for you at your shop. But, of course, you were met with disappointment and darkness when you arrived home. Nobody was waiting for you at the door, and there were no explanations about why he never showed. 

You entered the shop and barely remembered to lock the door behind you before dragging yourself upstairs to your bedroom. Master Shido was out of town, traveling to who-knows-where for some rare ingredients, so you did not have to worry about the noise you made as you collapsed on to your bed. 

Today was awful, and you wanted absolutely nothing more than for it to be over. You lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, but sleep never came. Instead, your mind whirled continuously about Elis. 

What was he doing at the moment? Was he with another woman? Did he even feel any remorse for standing you up? How would you confront him? Should you even confront him? What would you say if- 

Thud. 

Your froze, your racing thoughts stopped by a loud, muffled noise downstairs. You held your breath as you waited, in the silence and in the darkness, for more noise to come. But it never did. 

You were starting to believe you had simply imagined it when it came again.

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

Someone was knocking on the front door of the store.

[scribe-of-stories]

Get to Know Your Moots Writeblr Interview

Was poked by the wonderful co-writers of Sunset @sunset-a-story and @touloserlautrec. Go read their posts here and here!

On the Tumblr Writing Community

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr? A short eternity (first post is mid 2022)

What led you to create it? Was very bored at work and wanted to share some recent stories. Also I had never tried social media before, it this looked like the most interesting place to try it.

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community? Getting to see other people's imagination unfiltered. I've read plenty of great works before, but it was definitely an entertaining first to see the author later publicly say "this is my favorite little guy, can't wait till the next time he suffers."

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you? I constantly feel like I'm bothering people and or feel self conscious when talking about me/my stuff, so bare with me hah.

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash? Just some really unhinged stuff about y'alls stories. I want to open my phone and see someone discussing the seven major heresies dictated by some cabal of priests only to later realize "oh, this is someone's fever dream, not a history lesson".

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today? Interact more, take up the offer of "open tags" on other people's posts. Also throw your ideas onto the table for other's to look at, we all seem to love just watching someone go off about something they love.

WIP it Good

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately? Been in a bit of a writing drought. Lexical is always getting worked on, more so the TTRPG stuff than any story right now though. I've had a few projects pop into my mind and leave over the past while. Have a cluster of characters I can't get out of my head, but no narrative or setting to properly put them into. A god of violence and the man that cut her out of himself, a cultish vampire philosopher and his favorite little guy (little guy has a knife). Surely something will come of this, or they'll continue to just exist in one-off stories in my own head. Amber Hill, specifically The Lawman, is still somewhere in here but it's been struggling to come out for a while. Been trying to find Lars' voice as a POV character.

How long have you been working on them? I've been working on something based in Lexical since mid 2022 (huh, exactly around I first posted here); the other guys are new and only a few months old at most.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started? Lexical is a can of worms. The short answer is that my irl DnD group wanted to play something more free form and creative leaning than what our 5e campaign was allowing, so I said fuck it and started homebrewing a system based in a world I have vague ideas about. The long answer is that Lexical is a sequel to a Pathfinder campaign titled "Demis", which was about fantasy super heroes. It was heavily inspired by My Hero, Worm, and inescapably Homestuck. So when it came time to make a whole new system for these same players I took some concepts that worked in Demis, applied some occult-adjacent philosophy I was/am into, and ended up with my years long passion project. Atem and Sadaf were born out of my growing need to explore violence as a concept, philosophy, and inescapable existential crisis. The Vampire and his thrall Ish spawned out of a desire to have a toxic romance to think about. And AmberHill was inspired by a desire to create something cozy and occulty. Ended up being SCP adjacent but maintained the idea of a small community that cares about itself.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them? Lexical- not enough, I'm lucky I have at least some productive thoughts throughout the day. Atem- too much, his tired ass sat down in my head and I've been too polite to ask him to leave.

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say? "Urban Fantasy with science fiction elements"

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)? "My dissertation on the semi-real building blocks of both physical and social reality, also wizards punching people."

Let’s Rotate Blorbos

Name any characters you created. We've got the original Lexical boy Samuel Smith, Atem and Sadaf who you've already heard of, Lars DuPont from Amberhill.

Who’s the most unhinged? Sadaf.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write? For whatever reason Samuel's self-loathing PI perspective just comes very natural and is maybe someone I should write more about.

Do you ever cringe at them? Nah

How much control do you feel you have over your characters? Depends, my mind does not wonder so much that I don't feel like I am ever not in control. But who I am able to focus on tends to be a matter of debate.

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? Yes absolutely. Characters, worlds, magic systems; I'll rant about any of them given the chance.

On Writeblr Engagement

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account? A combination of preferred genre (urban fantasy), shared interest (books/games/table top). Also if they have Scribe as part of their name it's just an auto follow.

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle? There's a few. The telepaths from Sunset and their many ways of being terrifying are the first that come to mind. Since I already mentioned the scribes I'll go ahead and tag @scribe-cas , @covenscribe and leave the rest of the tag open. Here is an empty template

[thebearthatreads]

Writeblr Intro

Hi, so I've been a part of tumblr for quite some time but I've only really begun to be active again in the last month or so. I figured given my long absence perhaps it was time to introduce myself and open up to connecting with other writers here.

So who am I?

My name is Sasha Hanton (She/Her), I'm the author of It's All Magic To Me which was originally released in May 2022 (Re-releasing as Polishing Magic in May 2025). For a long time, I struggled with openly describing myself as a person of colour, coming from a mixed-race background it's always been a bit strange figuring out how to define myself. However I now feel more confident in how I describe and define myself.

I'm Australian but I have Eurasian heritage, meaning my family come from a combination of Asian and European backgrounds. I know some people don't like the term Eurasian, and that's perfectly fine you don't have to label yourself with something you don't identify with but for me, I'm proud to call myself Eurasian. My family have identified as Eurasian for more than three generations now, and we've always been proud of our mixed ancestry (feel free to ask me more about this if you're interested).

Coming from a mixed background I like to bring that mix into my writing, injecting influences from a variety of cultures and mythologies. Whilst I'm a cis, heterosexual, neurotypical woman I try my best to be an ally and am always happy to bring more diversity into my writing and to read more diverse stories (if you know any good books by diverse authors please send me your recommendations I'm always happy to build up my tbr).

My writing

Currently, I'm in the limbo of waiting for feedback on projects and I generally try to stick to having one WIP on the go at a time (as otherwise I'm prone to overwhelm) . Predominately I write urban fantasy, generally with new adult-aged characters but written to be middle-grade and up friendly. Here's a quick breakdown of my works:

It's All Magic To Me - This is my novel, originally published under contract in 2022 but now out of contract and out of print but I will be re-releasing it in May 2025 under the new title Polishing Magic. It follows Willow, a university student, who discovers she has magical powers and goes on to be taught how to use them by Sphynx, a cat. Urban Fantasy inspired by the likes of Buffy, Charmed, Sailor Moon, and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Themes involve family, responsibilities, and friendship. Venatores de Mythos Trilogy - My major WIP at the moment, I've written drafts for all three books but am waiting on feedback for book 1 before continuing editing. Urban Fantasy, follows three different characters who are all recruited by a mysterious agency that hunts and tracks down mythological creatures and artifacts. Globetrotting features a mixture of languages (Arabic, French, and Spanish with the main composition being in English). The main characters are from varying cultural backgrounds, each wildly different from the other with their own reasons for agreeing to join the agency. Percy Jackson kind of vibes. Chimera - Currently in the process of writing the first draft. Inspired by a short story I wrote for a recent competition following a mixed race, mixed species, witch and her family who are being hunted for parts. Dark Urban fantasy based in Australia, will feature lots of mythological influences. Adult because there's body horror, probably going to be some explicit sex scenes (not sure yet), and just generally dealing with heavier/darker themes. The Short Story Press Collection - A collection of short stories, currently available as an e-book on Amazon or in print (the print edition is newer and contains more stories than the e-book). Stories cover a range of genres from sci-fi, fantasy, gothic horror and more. Customerpocalypse - My first novel, currently available as an e-book on Amazon. Post-apocalyptic fantasy, written during a time when I was struggling with my mental health and it shows. If you've ever wondered why in post-apocalyptic video games there are NPCs who work in what's basically customer service then this might be for you.

Please shoot me an ask if you'd like to know more about any of my writing projects or about me. I'm hoping to share more on my WIPs here and to engage more, so please feel free to tag me in tag games!

You'll also see plenty of shares from fandoms I'm part of here, I have no intention of segmenting my Tumblr into two separate accounts so my apologies if you get spammed with Fairy Tail posts or DnD stuff (or anything else).

If you'd like to follow me on other social media or want to find my books here's a link you can follow for all of that: https://bit.ly/m/SashaHanton-Links