#also i did a lot of effort for something i drew while very tired be proud of me

[infernaltenor]

loved the three separate chapters we had dedicated to the mitsukou date

[colourstreakgryffin]

Ok, hi I'm here with a weird request that will probably get denied, but here we go!

Father!muzan and father!akaza (seperate please) with a daughter (around middle school age) who's in volleyball, and one day comes home in tears, crying about how a girl on the team yelled at her for missing a shot, and you can see how hard she tried, face flushed, body covered in sweat, redness from where she hit the ball, even a red patch on her face from where she took a ball to the face. She's really upset and comes home, mumbling a weak hello while choking on tears.

Ok that's just been in my head for a while sorry if it's odd or unable to be written 😭 have a great dayyy!!

Father Akaza?! That’s soooo cool! I definitely wanna try this! I assume this is also a modern/Kimetsu Academy-like AU! I’ve been doing a lot of those lately

Kibutsuji Muzan

Muzan drew away the hot ceramic rim of the coffee mug as he noticed the way his precious little daughter, you stomped into the room, dropping your school bag helplessly as tired tears flooded your poor puffy eyes, stains of dark red strain over your inner forearms and one big spot over your forehead, and a layer of sweat draped your skin. You looked as if you ran several laps at the Olympics and you felt tired enough to faint, your day was awful

All of it indicated your intense efforts but it was truly a waste at the end of the day

Sitting up from the dinner table besides the kitchen, Muzan ignored his half-drunken coffee on his spot at the table to approach his beloved babygirl. Gently sobbing under your breath and hiccuping a bit louder, your head raised up when Muzan begun to pat through your hair to do his best to comfort you, his free arm circling around your back to pull you into his chest for a warm cuddly embrace your dear father was very well known for in your household. He will always protect you

As you choked through a helpless sob and felt your father’s gentle hands comb over your swollen cheeks, you managed to force out a weak and saddened “hello”. Muzan gently pulled you to the room’s comfy elegant couch and in the most empathetic voice he could possibly manage, he asked you what the problem was. Had you been kicked out? Have you been held responsible for something that broke? For so long, you have absolutely loves Volleyball and if you have been wronged, Muzan will simply flip

“I am so sorry, my darling. I am here to look after you and support you. I will talk to your coach about that horrible team yelling at you for just a shot”

Soyama Hakuji [Akaza]

Hakuji pressed his throbbing beefy leg down with a heavy sigh as he ran a hand through his dark pink hair, his wooden pane floor scattered with clouds of shew cotton and the training bag before him was tainted with big holes from each kick and punch he threw at it. His attention was averted from controlling his heavy breathing to the alarming swing of his house’s front doors. He hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to his beloved daughter ever since she left and he was looking forward to hearing about her club practice

Hakuji was so excited to see his precious volleyball champion again after school

Stopping in place, his eyes wanted to erase the image it was showing him. His precious daughter, you, stumbling into the warm familiar household and throwing your schoolbag on the floor carelessly, your cheeks are bright red alongside a dark patch on your forehead and long patches of your inner forearms. Your face was drenched in puffiness and thick heartbroken tears

What happened? He rushed to you as you clutched your fists to your chest like your heart was trying to jump out. He knew well that some kids in your school were mean, did you get bullied? Hakuji needed to know as he gently takes your balled shivering grippers and pressed a kiss over the knuckles one by one, his own heart cracking at each loud sob and choke on a hiccup that you let out. He will never let anything hurt you anymore as he softly asks you what the problem is

“The team yelled at you for a mistake? That’s simply cruel… I’m so sorry, my angel. I’ll fix this, I promise. Just come here and hug me, I love you so much my baby”

[yurki-posts]

Just some midnight vent art. Some context down below because I need this out of my chest.

Big warning tho, it's a lot of text and if you're going through some hard stuff, I highly recommend not to read it. There's nothing motivating there, just venting

In 2021 I got hospitalized for Anemia. Anemia is caused by a lack of iron in the body, and because of my very strong food selectivity, I dislike a lot of food, including almost all fruits and no vegetables (except potatoes). This is a part of my autism, but I didn't knew that at the moment.

Because of this, I slowly lost all my iron. A normal person would feel very dizzy and probably faint over any kind of physical activity and even have a heart attack if pushed too far (and also if their anemic state is very bad), but I was asymptomatic, which means I didn't had any symptoms of it, which made it impossible for my parents and doctors to tell something was wrong with me. This is why my Anemia wasn't noticed for 4 months, and yes it was bad back then.

On January, me and my family went to a far away place to watch some waterfalls. We had to walk a lot, and I mean A LOT. I remember feeling really tired and that the air was heavy, but I couldn't do anything really. Doctors said my heart should not have resisted the physical effort and I should've got a heart attack, but for some reason I didn't, and I just kept going.

Then, we skip all the way to 4 days before I got hospitalized, on March.

I was in gym class. We were doing some running from cone 1 to cone 2 and so on. We could take a break for a couple seconds after getting to cone 2 and then we should get back to cone 1. Gotta say, we also had other activities before that one, but I only remember this one honestly, but have that in mind because I was already tired from before.

It was my and other 4 childrens' turn to run to the cones. I, ofc, was the last one to get there, and I while running my stomach was hurting really bad because of my breathing. My sweat was cold and my lungs could not hold for much longer (or at least that's how it felt). I finally got to the cone. I usually would not lay down because I was embarrased to do it in front of my classmates, but I was so tired I didn't cared about that and just layed on the grass.

I close my eyes. I breath. I feel the warm sun hitting me and the noise surrounding me disappeared. All I could hear were the birds. I opened my eyes and saw them in the sky. I felt very calm, for once. It felt like I spent a lot of time just looking at the sky, but it really were just some seconds.

After I got hospitalized and I was saved (all while I was concious and awake), the doctor, red haired woman, came to me amd my mom, and told me with a straight face:

"I don't know how are you here. You did gymnastics on Thursday, your heart should had not be able to handle it"

I remembered that moment in gym class again. That would had been the perfect moment for me to die. Why I didn't die? Why my body refused to die? How? How it managed to survive without ANY iron for 4 months straight without even a symptom until the very end?

Funny, butt this reminds me of that line Mike says on Fnaf Sister Location:

"I should be dead, but i'm not"

I should be dead too, and now I have been trying to....end, what the anemia started. It's really hard rn, I don't want to go to school tomorrow, I don't want to wake up tomorrow.

All I want is wake up in that place. The olace i've drew myself in before. Where the birds fly without a care. I want to be like those birds, but life isn't fair ig.

oh and about the drawings, if something shows up in the drawings that I didn't mentioned here it's probably because my emotions were drawing at that moment, like, idk how to explain it but I just draw it without too much thought?, it feels so weird

[nullshocked]

HELLO ALPHABET SOUP TIME!! WOOHOOO!! (answer as many/however u want 🧡)

A, E, J, K, Q, U, V, X, Z!!

and ima throw in a 6 and 13 and 22 just for no reason dnjksnfdsa!!

OC Alphabet Soup / Questions About Your Durge I ASSUME THE NUMBERS ARE FOR THE DURGE QUESTIONS???

Going under a cut for obvious reasons:

A - Aodh'a Nbolo

One of my miqo'te boys! A kind of reserved, blunt, and grumpy conjurer who runs a clinic in Gridania where he treats people at little to no cost. He is a deeply caring person who is extremely bad at expressing himself and full of anxiety bees. Also has like four kids now (three he gave birth to, one he adopted as his own that's the daughter of his mate/partner by another mother) and the youngest two are twins and he is so tired all the fucking time for real.

E - Eyes

Not much to say because it's an OC I had when I was like 14 that I mostly just drew art of. I don't think there was anything I ever really like... did with him outside of that? He started with silver hair but I ended up making it bright blue later. I think he was blind maybe and the name was ironic??

J - Josef Hamilton

Dumb werewolf whose twin sister was a vampire, and he was pretty relentlessly cruel to her about that. Also just depraved bisexual vibes. I don't remember much beyond that about either of them, except that his sister was married to a rockstar AND had a girlfriend/wife (not legally married) and I think Josef was kind of pissed she got to be happy with her partners and their shared children.

K - Kaenea Dawnstar

Blood elf paladin I played for actual years. She was a war veteran involved in the Third War and the Northrend campaign, both of which profoundly scarred her emotionally as well as physically. She was a bit of a complicated mess determined to do the right thing in a world that... made that very difficult, a lot of the time. I love her.

Q, U - Nothing for these, unfortunately.

V - Vanessa Harley

Originally started as a Silent Hill OC with a split personality and got reworked. Her other personality just became her twin sister instead named Valerie. Vanessa is a violinist with a love of music and a quiet, soft personality contrasting with her twin's fiery passion. They also share a telepathic and empathic bond with one another. So that's neat.

X - None for this one either.

Z - Zion Tobias

Used to be a doctor, then he died and went to hell and became the side piece/personal manservant to Lucifer. Don't worry about how that works. I think he later got with a nurse if I recall? I dunno, he was. A guy.

AND NOW FOR THE DURGE QUESTIONS

6. How does your Dark Urge react to waking up with memory loss?

Jack wakes up with no memory and kind of not a lot of personality to start, which is eerie to the people he meets because he just seems so emotionally detached from everything around him. (He snaps out of it later and starts to kind of revert to some of his more benign tendencies pre-tadpole.) Overall he actually reacts quite calmly, but that's probably more to do with shock and the whole like... we're gunna crash if we don't do something about this ship crashing thing. Practicality.

He does spend a lot of time muttering "my name is Jack" to himself over and over again in some effort to like... make sure he doesn't lose the one piece of himself he remembers. This is also kind of weird to everyone he meets, before they realize what's up.

13. How does your Dark Urge feel about killing?

Pre-tadpole? He's good at it, but for him it's more practical and clinical than something he takes joy in. He kills for his father's approval, not because he enjoys the act of killing anyone. Post-tadpole, the ease with which he kills people (and doing while not in control of himself) is something that deeply frightens him, to the point that he actively avoids doing so if he doesn't have to.

22. What first impression does your Dark Urge give off to strangers?

"Sad wet cat man. Are we sure he's the Chosen of Bhaal? I mean look at him, he's got anxiety and he keeps clutching the pale one like a fucking freak."

[eralea-art]

found some old sketchbooks

[artwork made by any other teenager] "this is great! I love your attention to detail!" [artwork made by my teenage self] "what is this trash toss it and never draw again"

normally I have to put in a lot more effort to overcome this extremely unreasonable take, but these were drawn so long ago that I actually feel a bit disconnected from the version of me who drew them.

back then I usually drew on loose leaf paper and threw them out when I got tired of them (I still do this), so I didn't think I had any drawings older than a few years until I dug these books out from the back of a cabinet

(using the pencil in lieu of a signature, not that anyone would steal these)

there was a fan artist I followed who could draw in (what seemed to be) every style in the world, so my younger self decided that being able to draw everything in every style in the world was obviously the pinnacle of artistic skill

I stopped caring about developing my own style and went through a phase of just practising other people's styles for a few months

it's all very wonky and the lines are unconfident and there are smudges everywhere and I have a bad habit of drawing on both sides of the paper(I still do this)

but I feel like the young artist who did this was making a genuine attempt at learning how to draw everything

ok, a mostly-genuine attempt at learning how to draw cute cartoon animals and not much else

there's also an alarming amount of 90s shoujo-style doodles here that I'm not putting online

bonus ponysona

idr her name (Feather-something) but I remember she sculpts clouds to sleep on (she contributes nothing of value to pony society)

I stopped watching mlp after Twilight became a princess so this has to be from before that. was that really 2012? what year is it??

even though I neglected developing it, there is still a style that I call "my" style - it's the one that I find easiest to draw.

These are more recent, maybe 2016-2017? 2017 is recent, right? omg what year is it???

maybe it's because of the recent discourse about genAI vs human art that I've become more charitable towards amateur work, including my own. (it helps that while I know I drew these, I don't remember the process of drawing them, so it feels like I'm looking at someone else's work and I don't have the immediate gut reaction to trash it)

it's certainly more effort than what the genAI frauds are doing.

I don't think there's anything wrong with mimicking a style you like - styles can't be copyrighted, so if you have the skill to replicate it then it's fine.

Prompting "in the style of [artist name]"/img2img "to the style of [artist name]" is different because it's a cheating shortcut - you didn't earn that ability. You didn't put in the work. You're nothing like the max skill fan artist who could draw in every style.

New Year is in a few days

I'm going to ditch the perfectionism. My work is fine. My work from 10+ years ago is fine. Everything I do has more soul than the frauds using their plagiarism machines. I want to upload more often again.

[fantasy-so-far]

Day 11 - Alone Together

The numbness Adrionne had felt the night she took the Grimm twins into her care remained for weeks. As she spoke with wood wailer and adventurers about the events, she relayed the information with very little emotion, causing more than a few people to comment on her state. After it was determined that there were no survivors in the wreckage, an estate executor began to shadow her. He was kind and patient, but also seemed to think that if he just kept telling her the same thing over and over, he could break the spell.

The house and all the land were hers.

The gil and armory were hers.

There was a lot to manage, and she should consider staff and advisors.

Adrionne didn’t even have the energy to scream at him. Her heart was broken and, on the inside, she just wanted to crawl back into the crater she left behind and let the earth swallow her as it had her parents, siblings, cousins, and uncles.

But she couldn’t.

Violetta and Valerian tossed fitfully on the bed as Adrionne awaited the healer’s returnl. While she was simultaneously numb and overwhelmed, the twins were simply ill. They had cried for two full days, calling to their parents, and then they had fallen silent and listless. They ate very little and were often sick right after a meal. While Adrionne had cared for her younger siblings and cousins when family was in need, she had never had to nurse a child through a long-term illness.

“Miss Mohisant?” The healer’s assistant inquired gently.

The voice drew Adrionne’s tired eyes, but she was too exhausted to do more than nod in acknowledgement.

“Mistress Croseaux has asked that we step out of the room to discuss your charges. Here, let me help you.”

The healer’s assistant, Oberon, looked nervous as he reached out to offer his arm to Adrionne. Although she might have, at one time, thought that his comment was ridiculous, as if he were implying she was infirm, she did feel weak and tired. She took his arm and leaned against him as he lead her out in the hall.

The healer, Mistress Croseaux, stood in stark contrast to her kindly scribe. Her smile was gone, the one she had worn when she chatted with Adrionne on her arrival, but she still had a cocky, dismissive air about her.

“They are very ill,” she started gruffly. “Whatever it is, it is resistant to my strongest magics. It is something dark and it isn’t biological. It isn’t even natural.”

“Mistress…”

Oberon had tensed at Adrionne’s side while the woman gave her pseudo diagnosis. His voice was firmer when he spoke to the elder healer, but his effort was met with a hand wave.

“She should know it as we know it,” she huffed. “I don’t think you are in any condition to care for these children. It is my advice that they be brought to the Guild and put in the care of an appropriate institution.”

The numbness fell away all at once, as though the vacuum opened around her and displaced her emptiness and made way for all the fury and anguish that had been waiting at the fringes of her mind.

“No.” She replied resolutely.

“What? Oh, dear girl, you are not thinking clearly. I am telling you, those two…children will die if you refuse. You are a fool to think you can do more for them than I can,” the woman huffed as she turned and picked up a quill and handwritten note. “Just sign this. It is the right thing to do.”

Adrionne looked at the paper but the red seeping into her vision made it hard to read.

“It is a contract that signs custody of your charges over to Mistress—”

“I will never!” Adrionne snarled, wrenching her arm from Oberon’s gentle hold. “Get out!”

The elder healer laughed darkly and shook her head.

“If I leave, I will not return. Those twins will wither and decay, and it will be on you. I will offer one last time, sign them over to me, and I will see that they are healed and raised properly.”

“No!” Adrionne roared. “They are my wards! They are all I have left to make sense of what has happened. I am their auntie! The only one that can tell them about their parents! Get out.”

“You are quite mad, aren’t you? Perhaps I should just have the wood wailers come and take them by force,” the cruel woman sneered. “Maybe commit you as well. You’re a bit older than the Sisters of—”

“That’s enough.”

Oberon’s voice boomed beside Adrionne and both women looked at him in shock.

“This is a clear violation of our oaths, Cala,” he continued. “If we can heal these children, then we are charged with doing so. We do not bargain with lives in this way.”

“Know your place, scribe. I have been doing this far longer than you,” the woman replied angrily. She stuffed the contract into her bag and stowed the quill away. “But fine. If that is the way you think that you want this to go, I will go to the leadership now and tell them about this foolish woman, her twisted wards, and your bewitched dedication to causes you do not even understand. I also consider this your resignation from the Guild. Surely the staff will have your things packed by the time you return.”

With that, the elder healer shoved by Adrionne and stormed out into the foyer. The woman said something scathing to the house staff in the room and then slammed the door, leaving the manor house eerily quiet in the aftermath.

“Allow me to apologize on behalf of the Guild for her outlandish behavior, Miss Mohisant,” Oberon managed after a moment. His voice was still tight with anger.

“On behalf of the Guild?’ The Guild that would punish you for this?” Adrionne asked bitterly.

“If they release me from my oaths, it will not change my path. I will accept their judgment, but not before I bring that woman down for what she did here today,” he stated, reining in his anger further.

“I wish that were reassuring,” Adrionne replied weakly. “I fear she might be right, though, if it is as dire as she reported. If the Guild will send no healers, how can I help them?”

She turned and moved tiredly toward the room again. Oberon’s hand on her shoulder brought her to a pause just at the threshold.

“She is right. None of our magic made a difference, but I suspect there will be ways to manage their illness until it either passes or we can find a cure.”

“Who is we? You and who else?” Adrionne asked sharply, shrugging his hand from her shoulder. “I have no faith left in your ilk.”

“I understand, but that won’t discourage me,” Oberon pressed. “I am going to leave today, because I must ensure Mistress Croseaux does not file false reports against you. However, I will leave you with some things to consider. First, I will return. It will take me a bit of time, but I intend to consult our resources and return with action plans to stabilize them. That is my priority. Stabilize them so that we can progress into treatments. Second, I need you to rest. I have already given a parcel of teas and herbs to your housekeeper. They won’t make you sleep, but they will help you relax so that you might find sleep when you are ready. Finally, in the parcel, I have included two recipes for medicated bone broths. I would like all three of you to take it at least three times a day. It is going to help you all keep your strength. When I return, I will have a better plan for progressing.”

He spoke firmly and persisted even as Adrionne tried to interrupt him several times. When he finished, she found she had no words left. It was hard to fight with a man who seemed so genuine. She did, though, have one demand to issue before she’d let him leave.

“If you do this, if you give me hope in this, and you fail us, you will be killing us all. Can you truly carry that weight?”

He thought about it a moment, sincerely considering it and not merely hesitating. “Let me ask you something before I answer that. What makes you love children that are not your own?”

The word “love” took Adrionne aback. She hadn’t yet used such a word for her relationship to the twins, so how could he use it so casually?

“I.. Have a duty to them. They are only children.”

Oberon nodded and smiled faintly.

“And I have a duty to them as well. To you. If I fail in my duty, and the worst should happen, I will, in fact, always carry that failure in my heart. However, I do not expect to fail, and even I could see such a thing in the future, I would not allow you to walk that path alone. Duty binds us but it doesn’t define us, Adrionne.”

With those words sinking into the fuzzy depths of the young woman’s mind, Oberon offered a shallow bow and took up his bag. He exited quietly, leaving Adrionne to ponder his words. She moved tiredly to the bedside of her charges and sank onto the edge. She looked at the two as they slumbered, still fitful and pale. At one time, during the dark days since they had come into her care, she had wondered if Lily had bewitched her. Made her care by somehow binding her fate to the children. Now, though, as she tucked the blanket up around Valerian’s cool, ashen chin, she realized that her compassion for them was more selfish than that. She needed them with her or she would be alone.

It was better to be alone together.

[Master Post]

[kaidenshenandoahknapp]

this was an absurd amount of effort for what was ultimately an offhanded-joke but i needed to procrasinate lmao

if you watched @henrykathman's "Melody of Moominvalley" stream, (hi, hello, i made the thumbnail art, that was a cool surprise to see in my sub-box lol) Kathman made a comment about being glad no one has made him into a Moomintroll (or Snorktroll, i guess) because he thinks he would look like Snork

i had two thoughts in reply to this VOD:

that's probably because i would assume most video-essayist are on the spectrum of Hemulans (oversimplification: academics) to Teety-Woo/Woodies (oversimplification: big fans, arguably obsessive). you're probably more of a Hemulan? based on how you present yourself in videos? idk, i dont know you in your personal life lmao Hemulan just seems likely considering the hobby being so analytical (and also is easier for me to look at the different styles of since Woodies seem to have less general rules towards their appearance. and Teety-Woo is the only one of its kind that i know of, idk what is Teety-Woo's species and what is Teety-Woo's individuality there. but, like, that's not nearly as fun as my bullshit quiz lmao)

fucking bet

*: assets in not-gif form below Read More

(psa: please do forgive me for misspellings. i am dyslexic and will probably edit this repeatedly for quite some time, but im tired atm so Now It Is Posted)

anyway, i whipped all these up in about 2 or 3 days? idk, my chronic health issues have been a monster lately, its hard to keep track of days rn

but i made:

comics Moomintroll/Snorktroll

90s Moomintroll/Snorktroll and Hemulan

Tales From Moominvalley inspired illustration art of Hemulan where it has those lifeless "bug eyes with tiny pupils" style i love (but that i also understand why Jansson went back and gave them bigger pupils after a certain edition, and drew with more expressive eyes after a while)

why did i do three different styles + 3 different species? because i was torn on which to do and ended up pulling a classic Kaiden-Shenandoah and going "ill do more work and let them choose which one they like best". something something anxiety, i dont know what to tell you, im trying to learn self-acceptance lmao besides, it was fun to do a quicker shuft through style changes than the usual heavier studying i make Google Images help me do

speaking of, i dont often share my references because i worry about clutter, but i want to include it today and i also used less ref than usual, so you get clutter lol

(i learned last time that Tove Jansson doesn' often draw mugs; so i did my best guesses based on the references here + the result of my references the last time i drew in Jansson' style, which was more so her later novel-illustrations, if i remember right, as opposed to today. lots of best guesses today.)

first of all, i guessed on Kathman's eye-color based on zooming in and it was too pixelated to tell for sure even with the eyedropped tool. secondly, very fun tying in the blue hair dye since 90s Snork has a pink edge to his hair and Mr Hemulan has a green edge to his. last of all: i made them with (and without) a light beard/stubble, since i saw Kathman has one now. but also that was enirely guesswork on my part: Tove Jansson drew heavy-duty moustaches/beards or completely facially-hairless characters, no in-between. so i used educated guesses on how to adapt that. and i feel a bit like i did the male version of that one Snorkmaiden lipstick comic for my efforts lmao but hey! i tried!

my only thing is idk which set to upload to instagram, bc doing all the assets of with/out facial hair feels oddly excessive and maybe goes past instagram's images-per-post limit, idk, ill upload these there someday i guess. really wish instagram would let me post a gif but idk how to do that. c'est la vie

you also may notice one of the Hemulan sets includes a magnifying glass. i just thought it was thematically appropriate for someone analytical, especially since one of my references above did have it available for me to also reference lol

as a fun detail, i did a more Police Inspector color palette for the 90s Hemulan design, and a more Moominpappa palette for the 90s Moomintroll/Snorktroll designs. hence why those colors aren't the same

and the last thing is that i made the comic assets yellow-y to reflect the aging of paper and the quality of the photo references i have. (Henry Kathman, if you want to edit them to be white for the aesthetic of something, feel totally free)

here's all the assets i made in total. the gif version felt the most succint but yeah. also, Henry Kathman, if you are reading this: same rules apply. feel free to use these in anything you want, credit would be nice. (also, very sweet that you saw my name change away from my childhood nickname, i appreciate that 🫶). credit in the future can be to either here or my instagram (which i changed to match this hyphen-less url, since tumblr terminated my last blog for unknown reasons) i hope you are not upset that i went against your wishes of gratitude that nobody had drawn you as a Moomintroll/Snorktroll, but i hope the fact that i think you don't look like Snork even as a Moomintroll/Snorktroll helps. i hope you also dont mind the Hemulan additions lmao. but yeah, i wont blame you if you prefer the more human (or arguably Mymble? idk species) style i did beforehand in the last batch and don't use these. that one has way more references with lots of drafts and this is more of me messing around and finalizing the first draft i made each time around lol but i think they came out fun! very silly distraction, thanks for the idea lmao

thanks to Henry Kathman for the fun VOD and the much-(un)needed procrastination excuse. it was a good distraction from a pretty bad flare-up in my disability and a full plte of things to do that i needed an escape from. hope youre having a great day!

[bingoboingobongo]

easy

Pairing: Rue Bennett (Euphoria) x Reader

Type: Fluff

Summary: Rue notices you in her pre-calculus class, and she realizes that she can't live without you.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions of drugs and addiction

A/N: hii, this fic is written in second person rather than third person like my last fic, i did this because 1. i was requested to, and 2. it keeps it more gender neutral and it would have been kinda confusing to use feminine pronouns for both rue and the reader. i'm still trying to develop my writing style, (you can probably tell i like metaphors and lists of three lol), but it's still in the works, so if you have a preference for third person or second person please tell me! also apologies if the ending dialogue is weird, it's late and i don't have much practice writing confessions. as always, likes/reblogs and constructive criticism are always welcome, thank you for reading :)

Masterlist

Rue couldn’t exactly say that she “liked” doing drugs. She relished the relief they gave her, the escape. They provided a quiet moment for her, a moment where she could be free from the things that constantly plagued her thoughts, self-doubts about her place in the world, anxiety about her future, the fear of forgetting her dad. To her, drugs were like a ship, strong, sturdy, and secure, keeping her safe from the cacophony of the chaotic waves of her life that constantly threatened to crash onto her safe deck. But that didn’t mean she “liked” doing drugs.

Rue did drugs because she had to, not because she necessarily wanted to. Quite the opposite in fact, Rue wanted more than anything to be completely sober, to be free from the strangling grasp that narcotics had on her, to finally appease the little voice in her mind that chastised her everytime she lit a joint or swallowed some pills. But like everything else in her life, it was hard to stop; it was so, so hard, and she was so, so tired, and at the end of the day, it was just so, so easy to give up, to give in, to stop trying. It was easy, and after everything she had been through, Rue thought she deserved something easy. 

Rue had noticed you a few times throughout high school, mostly just passing glances, cursory stares, polite hellos, but the first time Rue saw you, truely, genuinely, sincerely saw you, was on the first day of junior year in one of Rue’s least favorite classes, pre-calculus. 

Rue didn’t do very well in school, she was barely passing her classes and she didn’t have the willpower to actually make an effort to get her grades up. Besides, the idea of spending her time listening to her teacher drone on and on about trigonometric functions or parametric curves seemed trivial when compared to the idea of spending her time staring at you. You, who sat just one seat away from her. Close enough that she could listen to the way you sighed everytime you were faced with a particularly hard question, close enough that she could watch your jaw clench whenever the people around you were being especially loud, close enough that she could know you, but not close enough for you to know her, and she liked it like that, the security that the distance created. It allowed Rue to observe you, watch you, examine you, all without making herself known.

At first, Rue equated her obsession with you to just being simple curiosity. She told herself that what drew her to you was just inquisitiveness, that you were just a naturally intriguing person. She tried her best to ignore the way her heart fluttered whenever you walked by her desk on the way to yours, she tried to ignore the lopsided smile that always found its way onto her face when she thought about you, she tried to ignore the way her stomach erupted into butterflies everytime you briefly made eye contact with her. For the most part she was successful, and when she wasn’t, she could always trust her pills to quiet her mind.

After a while though, it started to get a lot harder to dismiss you. Rue felt like she was seeing you more and more; you were no longer the girl she saw for an hour during pre-calculus, you were the girl that she saw in the hallways, during lunch, at parties, even at Fezco's store. It had gotten to the point where she wasn’t sure if you had started going out more, or if she was just finally noticing you for the first time. You were like a disease, plaguing her every thought, infecting her daily routine, even contaminating the blissful peace that drugs typically brought her, and yet Rue had never been more happy to be sick.

It had been nearly a month of staring before Rue spoke to you. She was surprised when it happened; she hadn’t necessarily planned on ever talking to you, content to just spend her time watching you, listening to you, occasionally daydreaming about you. So when you walked up to her and asked her to be your partner for an assignment, Rue was pretty sure either one out of two things was happening, she was either daydreaming, or she had overdosed and was now in heaven. While Rue spent most of her time attending church sermons dozing off, she did know that doing drugs was not the kind of activity that got people into heaven, so she felt it was safe to assume that the former was the truth. It wasn’t until you repeated your question that she realized that everything was happening in the real world and not just in her head. And that truth excited her.

After Rue’s first interaction with you, the two of you were practically inseparable. She lived for the sound of your voice, the melody of your laughter, even the harmonies you would hum under your breath as you were doing busy work. You were intoxicating, exhilarating, addicting, and Rue was definitely an addict.

Rue wouldn’t consider herself a particularly religious person. Her mom definitely was, but Rue wouldn’t say the same about herself. If God was real, why did he kill her dad? Why did he get her addicted to drugs? Why did he have to make her life so hard? Why couldn’t he have introduced you to her sooner? Rue wasn’t a religious person, but it didn’t take a religious person to know you were a gift from God.

The hard thing about you however, was that you didn’t necessarily approve of Rue’s drug addiction. You understood why she did it, and it wasn’t hard to comprehend why it was so hard to stop, but you had made it known early on that you didn’t support her drug usage. She knew that you didn’t disapprove because of malice, or because you wanted her to suffer, you did it because you didn’t want her to hurt herself like she had in the past, she knew you did it because you wanted the best for her, you did it because you wanted her to be safe.

When she first started easing off the drugs, Rue thought it was going to be hell. Staying addicted to drugs was easy, and Rue loved easy, but she also loved you, even if she didn’t know it yet; and it was those unknown feelings that kept her motivated. The more and more time she spent with you, the less and less time she spent high. Rue was scared that you were going to leave her, and despite your constant reassurance that you were determined to stay, she couldn’t help but worry, after all, she felt like people were constantly abandoning her or letting her down, and she would be damned if you were one of them. 

When you were together, Rue liked to spend her time cataloging things she liked about you. She adored the way you would get invested in the crappy reality TV shows she watched, she admired the way you would bury your face in your hands when she complimented you, and she craved the way your body would rack with laughter when she would tell you what she considered to be the worst jokes ever, and noticing the little things was so, so much easier when she was sober.

It was this habit of hers, her constant cataloging of the things she liked about you that led her to where she was now. Sitting on her bed, with you at her side, and an old season of Love Island playing on the laptop on the foot of her bed. You had your eyes glued to the screen, conflicted as you watched your favorite character get with one of the most annoying contestants on the show. Unbeknownst to you, Rue was also dealing with her own inner conflict, but for different reasons, mainly because the reason was you.

Rue had tried to tell herself that you were just friends, that the excitement that she felt whenever she saw you was purely platonic. But now, seeing you next to her, Rue wasn’t so sure. Rue thought about all the things she liked about you, she thought about what life would be like without you, she thought about how you made her feel. She knew you made her feel happy, but it was more than that. You provided a relief, a bliss, a paradise not even drugs could supply. To her, drugs were a ship that kept her safe and protected from the choppy waves of her life, but you were better. You didn’t protect her from the waves, you calmed them. You added order to the violent, thrashing, sea that was her life. Rue couldn’t fathom living without you, you were a breath of fresh air in a polluted world, and she needed air like an asthmatic. The thought of losing you terrified her, but the thought of being able to call you hers exhilarated her. 

She was constantly fighting the little voice in her head that told her to stop, to not tread any further past where she already was, to be satisfied with just a friendship. But Rue was tired of fighting, she wanted more and she didn’t know what else she had left to lose when not having you hurt so bad. 

Until she made the mistake of looking back at you, because that was what was at stake, her prized possession that she couldn’t bear to lose, you. The idea of not having you hurt, but the mere prospect of losing you completely was a death sentence. She gazed at you longingly, trying to memorize everything about you in case she messed it up. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t even hear you talking to her.

“I mean, can you believe this? Literally, why would he pick her? She is the most annoying contestant on here!” you exclaimed annoyedly as you watched the show in front of you. “I mean look at this Rue, can you believe — Rue? Hello? Earth to Rue Bennet?”

“Uh what? Yeah, yeah, you’re definitely right,” 

“Really?” you mused, “what am I right about then?”

“Um, the, the thing that you were talking about,” she stammered, hoping her answer would satisfy you. Unfortunately, it didn’t, because you looked at her with a suspicious stare and a devilish smirk on your face.

“Penny for your thoughts, Miss Rue Bennet?” you teased, “it looks like you got a lot on your mind.”

“Not really, I was just thinking about us, that’s all.”

“Yeah? Were you thinking about how I’m the best friend ever?” you joked, putting your hands on your chest in a dramatic display.

“Actually, I was thinking… I was thinking that…” Rue bit her lip nervously, loving you was a gamble, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to roll her dice. Rue took a deep breath, staring into your adoring eyes, and it was the way that you stared at her that convinced her to give up, to give in, to finally stop fighting the voice in her head.

“I think, I think I like you,” she whispered. Her stomach dropped as she watched your smile disappear. Ice filled her veins and her stomach twisted as she waited for your imminent rejection.

“Really?” you breathed, heart frozen in anticipation. Rue nodded, her hands fidgeting restlessly in her lap and her lips pressed together, “because I think I like you too,” you confessed.

This time it was Rue’s turn to be shocked, out of all the times she fantasized about confessing to you, she never actually thought you’d reciprocate her feelings. “You’re not messing with me are you?” Rue asked, still reluctant to accept the truth that she so desperately desired.

“No, are you?” you asked, suddenly petrified that Rue might have just been playing a sick joke on you. But all your fears are wiped away when Rue enthusiastically shakes her head, a smile forming on her lips.

Rue knew that she looked like an idiot, love-sick and foolish, as she sat on her bed staring at you with a dopey grin. But when you asked her to be your girlfriend, Rue thought her heart was about to explode right out of her chest. She vehemently agreed, because how could she not? You were the answer she had been waiting for her entire life, the solution that she needed to save herself from the pit of self-destruction she was trapped in, you were her new fix, and she was addicted.

Rue was no stranger to hardship, her dad passed away, she got addicted to drugs, she overdosed, the list goes on and on. Rue knew she deserved something easy, she was so, so tired, and drugs were so, so easy, but in the end, loving you was so, so much easier, and Rue loved easy.

[stoneworldsimp]

Can l request an senku x crybaby S/O? Where they are very sensitive to their own emotions and to theirs if they think senkus in a bad place they really try their best to make him feel better like sewing him a sweater, a handmade blanket and some maintenance since he doesnt take of himself from working very hard like a feet message.

Hi!! Oh my goodness thanks SO much for being patient. I appreciate it so much, anonymous messenger. I took a few liberties when making this, but.. I do hope you like it. :)

breathe,

senku x reader

warnings: crying, anxious thoughts, a kiss in the end

it was a good idea, no! a great idea. he’ll be sure to enjoy the gesture.

you reached the front of the lab, about to go in. making yourself known, you called out senku’s name. he called back to come in, and excitedly, you put your hand behind your back to hide the flowers. “i have a surprise for you, i found this huge meadow and—“

“hold on.”

“oh!” you suddenly realized that he was deep in thought, continuously jotting something down on the table. of course he was still busy. “i can wait, if that’s alright.”

he hummed in response.

minutes passed while you leaned against the wall of his lab, and it started to feel awkward. you waited for his okay to give him the small present you collected; a bundle of flowers from a field you came across just an hour or two before. you felt it was fitting to give some to him, he was always working hard, and though there was payoff from his finished projects, you always sensed that it never ended for him. just looking at the slight bags under his eyes made you tired; the heaviness reached your heart every time.

you also noticed how no one really gave him something in return, as a thank you or to even tell him he was appreciated. he wasn’t particularly a fan of flowers, you knew, but it was an on-the-fly decision.. and frankly, you just wanted to show him, not just tell him, that his knowledge means everything to you and the rest of the village.

for just a second, a split second, you saw him glance up from his work. you thought an eternity passed before he even acknowledged you again.

“…can you come later? i’m busy.”

“oh,”you drew yourself back into a corner. the strain on your arm became much more evident as you felt embarrassment sink in. was he mad? no, he’s probably tired. but he didn’t act like that around anyone else… no. he’s tired. he’s frustrated. i think, i think i saw some scribbles on his paperwork.

you placed the handful of flowers on the edge of the table, some smashed from your grip and some fallen to the ground, and walked away promptly. you kept yourself from saying good bye; you felt it’d make everything even more awkward. what if he really is mad at me for interrupting his work? he probably was in the zone.. and i ruined it. this was the worst way to tell him you appreciated everything.

a wipe to your face made your hand wet. it was hard to hold your anxious feelings in; sometimes even your anger turned into tears. silent crying became your super power after realizing how much worse it became when you made any noise. with a quiet sigh, you shook your head; you couldn’t get senku’s annoyed and dismissive expression out of your head. he’s sick of you, he’s sick of you, he’s totally sick of you and your horrible timing.

by the time you made it to your hut, your vision had become almost completely blurry. you flopped to your back and covered yourself with a blanket, finally letting a sob escape you. he works so hard, and that was how i repaid him? he’s probably pissed that i messed up his concentration. humiliation filled your chest the more you thought about the interaction. you tapped your forehead with your fingertips in an attempt to bring yourself back to earth; even you knew you had to take a moment to breathe. there was a way to fix it. another way to show him.

—

“can i come in?”

senku was met with silence; quite honestly, he was ready to wait outside your door for as long as it took for you to respond.

after you walked away in the lab, he knew he fucked up a little bit.

“i, i have something for you.”

the note he held started to feel gross in his hands, and so he sat down and slipped it under your door. to his relief, he heard shuffling around, and… did you give the note back? no, the paper was a different color. it was slightly bigger, too.

you both sat against each other, only the door to your hut separating you from touching. it was a safe barrier, you thought, and it helped you gain the courage to give him something.

it was less, even less than the fistful of plants from earlier. but, you decided, it was good to get the point straight across. no beating around the bush.

you heard him open the note.

YOU ARE APPRECIATED

a smile grew on his face; judging by the deep indent of your makeshift pencil on the paper and double underline of the message, you were very adamant to tell him this. suddenly your random visit and leave from earlier made sense. “were you trying to tell me this in the lab today?”

you didn’t respond; you only focused on how warm your face was when you opened his note.

you have my heart

he sighed before he continued. “i’m sorry for ignoring you like that, right when… you were attempting to tell me something that, that really means a lot to me.”

you leaned the back of your head against the door. “you deserve it. you work so hard that you don’t catch too many breaks. and nobody says anything, because, well.. they see how amazing your brain power is, but they don’t think of you as someone who can get exhausted.” you held his note to your chest. “after a while, they don’t thank you, either… it isn’t bad to forget sometimes. but i want to make an effort to remember. y’know..BLEGH, i should’ve waited until you weren’t busy—or, weren’t as busy—“

“no, i’m glad you came to the lab today.” looking down, senku held your note in his hand gently; he wanted to keep it in as pristine condition as he could. “thank you for the wake-up call.”

somewhat of a comfortable silence fell between you two. neither of you could see the other, but both of you shared the same warmth. it enveloped your insides, reaching your chest and cheeks and hands. you were sure you could feel his smile through the door.

“hey senku,” you said after a while, a smile on your face,”i like you.” you got up from your spot, brushing your legs off as you heard senku get up too.

senku laughed almost immediately after, and replied,”oh, really?”

you opened the door and saw him standing, smirk painted across his face. nodding your head gently moved the rest of your body; you closed your eyes right as you felt his hands take yours, notes still being held.

senku held them against his cheeks near the corners of his mouth; his head was dipped down slightly but his eyes were on your own lips. “i guess i like you too,”he mumbled.

you hummed fondly, opening your eyes; you wrapped your hands around his jaw and brought his face closer for a kiss. small and sweet, you both blushed when you broke away.

[fandomlit]

neutral, chap. 4 (dream smp x reader)

series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary after waking from a taunting nightmare, tommy expels some late night energy on some wandering mobs. you give him another lesson about taking care of himself, even when working hard, and tommy asks if you’ll teach him archery, which, of course, doesn’t go without entertainment.

warnings nightmares, mob killing

previous | series masterlist | next

gif cred belongs to @halcyoncraft

he was running again. he didn’t know where or from what, but his legs carried him far and strongly, weaving him through trees and grass and other obstacles along the way. he didn’t know how in danger he was, but he wasn’t going to stop and find out.

then he tripped.

when he flipped onto his back, it was that goddamn mask staring down at him, the lips just under it laughing, “you’re so weak, tommy! did you do anything while you were in neutral?” then his axe came down and tommy braced himself for the pain and release of death.

he woke up instead.

sweating under his covers, tommy sucked in a harsh breath as he sat up. he threw the soft cotton off of him, running a warm hand down his face. it was just a dream; he was safe in neutral.

looking out of the window next to him, he saw the moon still high in the sky, casting a cool light into his bedroom. dream’s words rang through his head like a bell, and he rubbed at his temples with a sigh. was he actually getting weak? was relaxing such a bad thing? at the very least, some part of him must have thought so to conjure a nightmare like that..

with another sigh, tommy lifted himself out of bed and flipped open the ender chest. he drew out his sword before heading to the main floor of the house.

when he reached the bottom of the stairs, a voice called out to him, “tommy?” his heart nearly stopped for a moment, before peeking into the kitchen and realizing it was just y/n. she sat in candlelight, writing in a small journal with a slice of half-eaten pumpkin pie next to her. “are you alright?”

“yeah,” he breathed, his voice still heavy with sleep. “just gonna go kill some mobs.”

she nodded. she looked tired, and a part of tommy felt bad knowing that she was most definitely going to wait for him to return. “okay. have at it, kid.”

he nodded, turning to leave the kitchen. before he did so, he pursed his lips and looked over his shoulder to y/n. “you should go to bed.”

she gave him a smile, scribbling something down in the small journal. “i will, tommy. just gotta finish this up..” his natural curiosity was drawn to the small book, and he almost asked y/n what she was writing. but then dream’s voice rang through his mind again, and tommy silently headed for the doors of the house.

the night air was refreshing on his warm skin, cool and still as the moon illuminated the frontal beauty of neutral territory. he took a deep, calming breath of that crisp air before focusing on the task at hand: proving to himself that dream was wrong. that dream is always wrong.

after about twenty zombies, ten spiders, countless creepers, and a few endermen, tommy finally felt the burn in his arms become nearly too much to bear. he panted as he struck down one last spider, turning and finally deciding to return back to the comfort of y/n’s home.

he sheathed his sword when he finally entered the house, going straight to the kitchen to see that y/n was still awake and writing in her small journal.

“ready to go to bed?” he asked gruffly.

she looked up slowly before nodding, placing her quill down and capping her ink. “any trouble out there?”

“no,” he spoke, shaking his head. “wrote everything you needed to?” y/n blew out her candle and went to join the boy in the doorway to the kitchen.

“as much as i could, anyway,” she shrugged, smiling lazily as they began to walk toward the stairs. “what was your nightmare about?”

tommy was slightly startled, but a little too tired to react drastically to y/n’s deduction. “how’d you know i had a nightmare?”

“i’ve had them before,” she said simply. “and it seemed natural that you’d expel some energy onto mobs after such a thing.”

“you’re smart,” tommy credited.

“thank you,” y/n yawned.

they continued to climb the stairs in silence as tommy considered his words. “i was being hunted by dream again, but this time you weren’t there to save me. he called me weak and killed me.”

“so you wanted to prove to yourself that despite allowing yourself peace, you didn’t have to sacrifice your strength to get there,” y/n summed.

the boy half-smiled. she was spot on, as always. “exactly,” tommy breathed. 

y/n was silent for a moment as she thought. they stopped at the hallway to tommy’s room and it then occurred to tommy’s tired mind that her room was downstairs; she was walking with him because she cared about him. 

“honestly, tommy, if this is a real concern for you, then there is no harm in taking time out of your day to work out and train,” y/n spoke. “but the most important thing is to recognize when enough is enough, and when enough becomes too much. you’ve allowed yourself peace and care for the last two weeks, and achieving such a state doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice fighting or training; it just means that you need to be more aware and in tune with yourself as you’re doing it.” tommy nodded.

“don’t overwork yourself, is the summary here,” she said, picking a cobweb off of his shirt. “let yourself do the things you want, but make sure it’s not wearing you down. that’s taking care of yourself.”

“alright,” tommy spoke quietly. “thank you, y/n.”

“of course, kid,” she smiled. “get some sleep, alright? if you have another nightmare you’re free to bother me.” tommy nodded again. “good night, tommy.”

“good night, y/n,” he yawned as she turned to head down to her room. he made sure he heard her door shut before finally heading to his own room.

...

“can you teach me archery?” tommy questioned the next morning at breakfast. it was a question that had bugged him since y/n had first revealed her skills just a few days prior, and since he was going to start training, he figured that might be a good place to start.

“sure,” she chuckled as she scooped some more fruit onto his nearly half-eaten plate of french toast.

“why the laugh?” he questioned through a mouthful of berries.

she shrugged to herself. “your curiosity is showing.”

“i’ve been wondering about it since you took out the mob,” tommy admitted. “if i want to get stronger.. i think this is a good way to.”

“perfecting a skill is the perfect way to get stronger,” y/n voiced. “of course i’ll teach you, kid.” she smiled and he turned back to his breakfast with his own grin. “finish up your food and meet me in the basement; we gotta get you a bow first.”

tommy hadn’t been in the basement of the house yet. he opened the heavy, dusty trapdoor and assumed y/n didn’t go down their often either. he slid down the ladder easily and was immediately hit with heat.

y/n had a welding station upstairs in her shop area, but the basement had a more broad and intense version of that area. several anvils, all cracked and rusted and adorned with different materials were scattered in a sort of pattern amongst the space, a fire burning high in a fireplace at the far side of the room. seeing no sign of y/n, tommy moved to the room to his left.

the next room held a large nether portal, as well as a small farm for netherwart. the dark room felt empty to him, and he had to remind himself that he was in fact in y/n’s house still. he remembered she had said that she didn’t like going to the nether.

“i’m in here, tommy!” she called out. he took another left into a small storage room, where y/n was rustling through a chest. “how tall are you, kid?”

“6’1”,” he answered.

y/n smiled. “you’re a lot taller than i’ll ever be.” she took out a pretty oak bow, slightly scratched and obviously old. “you’ll have to use this for now, until i can make you one that’s your size.” he took the bow from her hands, shrugging.

“it’s fine.”

“good,” she hummed, still shuffling through the chest as tommy took the time to look around the small room.

“what’re the dispensers for?” tommy asked, staring at the wall that held the three stone tools.

“im nothing if not prepared, tommy,” y/n spoke as she took out a quiver and began to fill it with arrows for him. “in case of emergency, those dispensers will set off flares to let others know that im in trouble or that neutral is in danger.”

tommy nodded, still looking at the obviously unused dispensers. “smart.”

“i hope so,” she sighed, handing him the quiver of arrows. he strapped it around himself as she continued, “let’s just hope i never have to use them, yeah?”

“yeah,” he chuckled. she gave him a smile, hoisting her bow higher in her grip.

“you ready to shoot some things?”

...

“relax your shoulders,” y/n reminded. tommy did so, his fingers still white with effort against the taut string of the bow. “don’t pull so hard, tommy. you’re shaking.” he sighed as he let the string and arrow go limp, lowering his bow as y/n approached him closer.

it was his second day of archery training, and he was still missing nearly every target. y/n was a calm and collected teacher, offering him advice that was pointed directly for him and reassured him that there was no rush in the learning process. but after missing fifteen or so shots in a row, tommy was getting frustrated.

and it didn’t help with sapnap and george staring at him through the kitchen windows.

“doin’ great, kid,” sapnap encouraged weakly, taking a drink of the lemonade y/n had lovingly prepared for the boys. just watching the older man sip made tommy’s mouth dry, but he was determined to make five shots in a row before taking a break.

tommy glared at the man before turning his gaze back to his mentor. “ignore him, tommy,” y/n spoke gently. “nick couldn’t hit a target if it was three paces away.”

“that’s a lie!”

“im kidding,” y/n laughed, placing a hand on tommy’s shoulder and turning him away from the distraction that was sapnap. “but seriously, there’s almost always going to be someone watching when you shoot. the more you can tune them out, the better. just focus on your aim--and make sure your grip is looser. you’re gonna snap that string in no time otherwise.”

“loose grip, focus on aim,” tommy breathed and she patted his shoulder as he turned back to the target ahead of him. he hoisted the bow up slowly and pulled the string back just enough that it wasn’t fully taut. he made sure his aim was a little higher than his target, and released the whizzing arrow. the arrow pierced just outside of the center ring.

“perfect,” y/n smiled. “now, do it again.” and he did, taking another deep breath and allowing himself to focus in on the feel of the rough wood on his fingertips, and the tight string he was pulling. the arrow hit just beside his last. she nodded encouragingly. “keep going.”

tommy could feel his heart start to thump in his chest from the excitement of his accurate aim. he took another calming breath and watched as the arrow lodged closer to the center.

“great aim,” she complimented and he grinned as he pulled another one back, trying to contain his shaking as he aimed. the arrow shot lower than his previous, but on the target nonetheless. “still a good shot. one more?”

“yeah,” tommy nodded, licking his dry lips as he retrieved another arrow from his quiver. heart still thumping with utter excitement and pride at y/n complimentary words, he quickly released the arrow and his smile dropped as the arrow lodged into the ground before the target.

“hey, that’s fine!” y/n assured as tommy groaned and dropped his head. “four in a row is an amazing improvement, tommy. you should take a break and reward yourself.”

tommy sighed, looking to the shameful arrow. “yeah. alright.” he dropped the bow to the ground along with his quiver. he looked to his slightly splintered fingers. “im gonna go.. wash up.”

“alright,” y/n smiled as tommy scampered away. she entered into the open kitchen, smiling at her guests. “you boys doing alright?”

they nodded. “when did you take up parenting, y/n?” george giggled. she rolled her eyes as she went to pour her and tommy their own glasses of lemonade. “no, seriously! you care for that kid a lot, it-it’s not a bad thing!”

she sighed, leaning against her counter as she sipped at her lemonade. “i know you two haven’t always agreed with him in the past, but i think tommy’s a good kid. i like his ethic, and i think he has a lot of potential. but that being said..” she shook her head. “he’s so young.” the boys nodded. “he’s been thrown into such a life of chaos and destruction, and im not saying he’s at all innocent, but.. i think it’s good for him to learn that there’s more to this world than just war and enemies. there’s...”

“neutral,” sapnap finished for her. she let out a laugh.

“yeah, neutral,” she agreed, tapping her fingers against her cold glass. “but, yeah, if teaching him peace and self care is motherly of me..” she shrugged. “then i guess im alright with being a parent.”

“that’s sweet,” sapnap nodded. “i hate it.” the three of them laughed, y/n laying a light slap on the man’s arm before tommy’s voice called out to her.

“y/n! can i have some help?”

“im coming!” she called back, setting down her glass of lemonade.

“go help your poor son,” george teased, resting his head in his hand as he gazed at y/n amusedly. she rolled her eyes.

“behave, you two,” she laughed before leaving the kitchen.

there was a moment of silence before george spoke, “i do think it’s quite sweet how y/n’s taken tommy in. i think it’s good for both of them.”

“you say that now,” sapnap sighed, leaning back in his chair. “but just wait until tommy’s back to feeling 100% and y/n’s going around saying “pog” all the time.”

tag list!! @vanhakirja @victory-is-here @inkyynki @airiour @sylum @kiritokunuwu @221bee-slytherin @bllatrixcarpnter @soullesstaco @stxrryb1tch @amibismexy @keiarma @akaichi-blog @runningoffofcaffeine @nonetookind @aquilla-favonia @feverish-dove @izuruamme @weeb-bb @bialin @justachillbisexual @kiritokunuwu @natalie-is-a-wall comment below or message me if you would like to be added <3

[sehunniepotwrites]

puppy love | l.jn

synopsis: in which a new chance at love crashes into you when you least expect it to genre: dog park!au, strangers to lovers!au, fluff pairing: lee jeno x gn!reader word count: 1,392

author’s note: happy jeno day, czennies! i hope you’ll find this drabble as sweet as the birthday boy! (this is unedited, i’ll look back at it later!)

Tired of seeing sulk about being lonely, your friends suggested something that sounded great at the time. 

Get a dog, they said.

It’ll be a lot of fun, they said.

You always dreamed about having a pet. 

Well, they forgot to mention how much work having a dog was. Terriers were mostly known to be low maintenance dogs that were moderately energetic--your pup did not fit into the norm. 

Though small and compact, Nana was a hyperactive dog. A morning trip to the dog park often tired her out during the day, allowing her to sleep the majority of the time you were away at work. Playing with her granted you the exercise you desperately needed and while fun, you tired out very easily. There were times you wished for Nana to have a canine companion. You wished for it as much as you hoped to find a companion of your own. 

Your friends and family also played with the idea of meeting someone and their pet at the dog park-- kill two birds with one stone--but that storyline was damn near impossible. The only other regulars you saw at the park were either coupled off or just not in your age range.

Nana began to whine as you drew closer to the gate, the dog insistently tugging against your hold. “Hold on, baby, we’re almost there,” you said groggily. Looking around the area, you noticed that none of the regulars were there that morning.  Maybe it was because you came thirty minutes later than your usual time. 

“Seems like your friends aren’t here today, Nana,” you said dejectedly as you opened the gate. That meant you had to play with her--your morning fix of coffee didn’t hit you yet and you hope you did soon. You couldn’t keep up with her when she was like this. Your dog rushed in, her paws scurrying from the paved sidewalk to the grass covered in morning dew. Her feet impatiently stomped as you slammed the gate shut, waiting for you to release her from her leash. 

Hearing a loud bark, your head shot up to see a tall person in a hoodie running after a fluffy Samoyed that was heading your way. “Chief, wait!” 

Just as you unbuckled Nana from her leash, the larger dog leaped in your direction, almost bulldozing over your smaller pet and straight into you. The unexpected impact was too much for you, sending you back into the wet grass. Large pants and a heavy weight kept you from getting up and you glanced to see that beautiful Samoyed hovering on top of you. Its tongue stuck out, tail wagging rapidly as it stared down at you before nudging your hand for some love. You laughed in astonishment before carding your fingers through its soft fur.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” the owner profusely apologized as he reached you, “Chief still isn’t used to how large he is.” His voice was charming just as it was deep and once you caught his eye, your breath caught in your throat. If this dog was beautiful, then its owner was absolutely divine in the early morning light. His hood slid down to reveal more of his face, allowing you to see the man’s kind eyes, sharp features, and clear skin. His black hair was styled messily due to the hood but the look still suited him. 

One rough pat to the Samoyed’s side was enough to nudge him away from you. “Let me help you up,” the handsome stranger said, offering his large hand out to you. You tentatively slid your hand into his hold before he pulled you back to your feet with little to no effort. “Thank you,” you said in reply to his kind action. You hoped he didn’t notice the embarrassed expression on your face. 

“It’s no problem,” he smiled back, his eye scrunching into the cutest curves. He looked like the dog that just knocked you over. How was that even possible?

Dusting yourself off, you noted that Nana was no longer at your side. Just as you were about to shout for her, you found her playing happily with the Samoyed. “Oh good, I was afraid that she wouldn’t have a playmate during this time,” you let out a sigh of relief. Finding a need to explain yourself, you added, “I usually come earlier in the morning.”

“Decided to sleep in today?” the man asked with a teasing chuckle.

“Yeah, pretty sure I pressed my snooze button a couple of times,” you giggled.

“I usually come around this time but no one’s here,” he said, “It’s nice to see someone else at the park for a change.”

Before you knew what you were doing, you shot back with, “Maybe you should start coming earlier.”

With the same tone, he answered, “Or maybe you can keep hitting that snooze button.” You brought up your hand to cover your smile and mute the laugh that slipped through your lips.

Grinning at your positive response, the man extended a hand out to you. “I’m Jeno,” he started off. “And that, over there,” he gestured off to his Samoyed playing with Nana, “is Chief.”

Placing your hand in his rougher one again, you introduced yourself with a shy smile. “That little one is Nana.”

Jeno let out a loud snort and laugh before covering his lips. His shoulders shook as he tried to calm down. Shocked, you looked at him. There wasn’t anything wrong with that name, was there? You thought it to be quite adorable. 

“Oh no, sorry for laughing. I’m not laughing at you, I swear,” he waved his hands to reassure you. “It’s just that my best friend’s nickname is Nana. His real name is Na Jaemin.”

Tugging his phone out of his pocket, Jeno lit up his home screen to show you a picture of him, another handsome man, and Chief smiling at the camera. “Cute,” you commented with a smile.

“Who-- Nana?”

His sudden question flustered you. “N-no, I mean, yes? I mean--”

“Damn, I was hoping you were referring to me,” he said, the grin on his face growing larger.

“Well, I mean, um--” Oh, this was so going well. A cute guy with a dog talks to you and you can’t even form a full sentence. Why were you like this?

“Hey, no. It’s okay. I was kidding.” He lightly patted your shoulder as you took a swig out of your water bottle. ‘Not going to lie, though, I was hoping you would say I was cute.”

You barely missed choking on your drink. “Oh my god, it’s too early for this,” you muttered under your breath. “I need more coffee.”

“Sorry, am I coming off too strong?” Jeno chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been a while since I’ve tried to flirt with someone.”

“So you admit that you’re flirting?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Yup,” you turned away to watch the two canines chase each other’s tails. “Definitely need more coffee.”

As if they knew you wanted to leave the park, your dogs charged towards you at full speed. Unlike before, Chief stopped right before your feet, tongue dipping into a bowl filled with water. He made space for your tinier dog to drink from the bowl as well, the two acting like best friends even though they just met thirty minutes prior. Tugging treats from your jacket pocket, you commanded them to do a couple of tricks before rewarding them as Jeno watching fondly in the background. 

“Hey,” Jeno called, drawing your attention to the two dogs nosing your hand.

“Yeah?”

“You said you needed coffee, right? Wanna grab some with me? I know a good cafe down the road from here,” he offered a bit timidly, his ears turning a bright shade of pink. “It seems like the two little ones want to hang out more. I think they like each other, I’ve never seen Chief act this way with another dog before.”

You heard a couple of yelps and quickly shifted to see Chief and Nana playing tug of war with a tree branch.

“Must be puppy love, then. And yeah, I’d really like that.”

When Jeno smiled at you, you swore he shone brighter than the sun. “I’d really like that, too.”

© sehunniepotwrites, 2021

[attllhak]

@tortilla-of-courage I flipped one of my Fancy coins and got heads, so here’s the one about Wild! (And Twilight and Time and Malon.)

This is also the first fic I wrote, so there’s also a lot of worldbuilding details here too. Regardless, enjoy!

------------------

Twilight really shouldn’t be surprised by things like this anymore.

He had managed to befriend a trench mer about a year ago, and after all the drama that came from that he really should be used to weird shit just, happening to him.

But, here he was, surprised.

In his defence, usually he didn’t run into other mer when out swimming.

His family’s farm was along the coastline, and there weren’t any pods native to the area (outside of the trench mer that lived in the trench a few miles out to open sea), so the only mer that Twilight had ever run into were friends of his father’s who’d come to visit.

This was not a friend of his father’s.

The most obvious detail that this was something new was that all of Time’s friends were deep sea merfolk, and this individual was very much a tropical mer.

Well, maybe a mer. Twilight had never been good at telling the difference between merrow and mer, and that was made harder by the fact that he’d never seen a tropical mer before. This person could be mer or merrow and Twilight would never have been able to tell.

The second detail that said this was a new circumstance was all the blood.

That was actually what drew Twilight over. Large amounts of blood drew sharks, and though they were mostly kept away from the shores by the local zora, it was still better to avoid large blood pools in the water regardless.

Upon approaching, Twilight had noticed that the blood was fresh, and was coming from a merfolk that was definitely new to the area.

This tropical mer had been horribly injured, the entire left side of their body leaking blood into the water around them. Long, tangled blonde hair floated around their head, and their pale blue fins were tattered and damaged, and a few on their left side were just gone altogether.

Twilight initially thought they were dead until he got a bit closer, and their eyes moved to look at him.

Twilight had jerked back in surprise, eyes wide as he took in the expression on the mystery mer’s face, which had gone from defeated to hopeful.

Twilight had to fight to remember to breathe with his gills and not his throat for a moment.

He swallowed, and slowly tried to remember how to speak with his skin.

‘Who, what, why,’ he floundered for a bit. ‘Who are you?’

The mystery mer just watched him lazily, as though they didn’t have the strength to do anything more.

After a long, long moment, and what seemed like quite a bit of effort and pain, they managed to flash ‘help’ at him.

Twilight didn’t even hesitate, moving as quickly as he could without tripping over his fins to the mystery mer’s side, gently scooping them into his arms. Once he had a decent grip on them, he looked around to orient himself, and then took off towards the shoreline where he knew his parents would be.

He didn’t know if the mystery mer had issues with humans, but he couldn’t think of any other way to help them. The trench mer really couldn’t be trusted with delicate matters like this, as much as he loved Midna, so his parents were the only option he had.

He just hoped it wouldn’t make things worse by accident.

His head broke the surface not far from the shore line, where Time was sitting in his human form with Malon.

“Dad!” He shouted, struggling a bit more to keep his passenger steady as the water became more and more shallow. “Dad!”

Time looked up, noticed Twilight trailing blood, and was on his feet immediately.

He met Twilight halfway, which is when he noticed the mystery mer.

“Twilight, what,”

“I found them a ways out,” Twilight gasped out, letting Time help him carry them further onto shore. “They’re really badly hurt, and I couldn’t just leave them, so,”

“Malon!” Time shouted. “Red potions! Hurry!”

Malon nodded and ran up to the house as quickly as she could.

Time and Twilight hauled the mystery mer up onto the shoreline, though still in the water, and Twilight crawled up to the skirt that he and Time both had to pin around their hips to shift back to his human form, since clothes and mer don’t usually mix.

Twilight hurried back over as quickly as he could, stilling pinning fabric in place as he crouched down.

Fortunately it seemed like breathing straight air seemed less painful for the mystery mer, who had taken to clinging to Time’s shirt with his good hand.

Time carefully brushed back their hair, exposing the injuries on their head. Time frowned deeply.

“Can we help them?” Twilight asked, ringing his hands with worry.

“We can,” Time confirmed, and Twilight let out a full body sigh. “He’ll end up with some serious scarring, but he’ll live. What I’m more concerned about is the nature of these injuries,”

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked, frowning as he looked over the injuries himself.

Malon came back, three bottles of red potion in her arms as she dropped to her knees next to Time. She handed him one of the bottles.

Time nodded, mouthing ‘thank you’ to her, and opened the bottle. “Twilight, support his head,”

Twilight reached out, lifting up the mystery mer’s head so that Time could tip the bottle back and they could drink without choking.

“Dad, what did you mean about the injuries?” Twilight tried asking again once the bottle was empty and they were waiting the few seconds needed to see how well the potion worked so they could gage how many they would need.

Time frowned, but eventually pointed to the parts of the mystery mer’s tail where the fins were missing. “Here, the injuries imply his fins were sawed off by netting,”

“Netting?” Twilight asked, not really following. He knew he was rather sheltered for merfolk, since he grew up on land, but he couldn’t think why someone could end up missing fins from netting.

Time nodded gravely. “Poachers use a specific kind of netting that can cause serious injuries if you struggle too much,”

“Poachers?” Twilight echoed. He wasn’t so naive that he didn’t know people tried to poach merfolk, but poachers never got near zora controlled waters, which was where he’d found the mystery mer. “What are poachers doing here?”

“I don’t know,” Time said, popping open another bottle to offer to the injured mer.

Twilight accepted the other bottle as his mother got up to go and get more.

They spent well over an hour there, crouching in the shallows with this mystery mer as they slowly fed them red potions.

After a long while, Time declared that was enough, and they sat back.

The blood had stopped, but the entire left side of the mer was red and raw still, a collection of marks that would scar pretty badly. But they’d live.

Time sighed, letting the mer cling to his shirt with no small amount of relief.

“He’ll probably need to relearn how to swim with the missing fins, but he’ll be alright,” Time said, and both his wife and son sighed. Time looked up at Twilight. “You did good, bringing him back here. You probably saved his life,”

Twilight smiled. “I was just trying to help,” he shrugged.

“Thank you,”

Everyone froze, and let their eyes fall to the very tired mer in Time’s arms. Their voice croaked and was very quiet, but they all heard it clearly.

They all blinked at each other. Apparently no one expected them to speak a human language.

“Of course,” Twilight said softly, offering one of his hands, which the mer took with their bad hand. “I wasn’t just going to leave you there,”

They nodded, squeezing Twilight’s hand weakly and offering a smile.

“Darling,” Malon asked gently, drawing attention up to her. “Do you mind if we ask your name?”

The mer said nothing, frowning softly.

“Do you have a name?” Twilight tried. Midna had told him that not everyone in the trench had names, and he knew nothing about tropical merfolk. Maybe they had Nameless too.

“I don’t know,” the mer finally said.

“You, don’t know?” Time echoed.

“I don’t remember much,” they admitted, curling in tighter towards Time’s chest. “The last thing I can think of is floating, and then he found me,” they pointed towards Twilight.

Time and Malon shared a look.

“You don’t remember anything?” Malon asked.

They shook their head lightly.

Time and Malon shared another look, and Twilight shifted uncomfortably, bringing his hand up to join the other, just so he had something to do with them. He knew his parents did this often, speaking silently through facial expressions, but he’d never been able to figure out what they were talking about.

“You aren’t going to send me back out to sea, are you?” The mer finally asked, looking more than a bit concerned. “I, I don’t want to go back out there alone,”

“Of course not, dear,” Malon promised them, reaching out to set her hands on the one Twilight had between his own hands. “We wouldn’t do that,”

“We will need to find a way to make sure he doesn’t dry out,” Time pointed out. “We do live on land,”

“We have an extra water trough,” Malon pointed out. “We could pull it inside and fill it up until we think of something better,”

Time hummed. “Would it be big enough?”

Malon frowned at him.

“Right, my mistake,” Time coughed, covering up an amused smile.

The mer finally turned to look at Twilight, marred up face twisted in confusion.

“My mother is human,” Twilight explained carefully. “Dad and I are merrow, but since we can live on land, and mom can’t live in the sea, we live on land. We can and will bring you home, but unless you happen to be merrow then we’ll need to find a container to fill with water for you,”

“I don’t remember if I’m merrow,” the mer said quietly.

“That’s okay,” Twilight smiled. “That’s why we’re talking about options,”

The mer nodded, and curled back into Time.

“Alright,” Time sighed. “Twilight, can you carry him up to the house? I’m going to run ahead with Malon to drag a spare trough into the house to fill up for him,”

“Sure,” Twilight nodded, readjusting how he was crouched to take the mer from his father.

Both his parents stood up and headed back to the ranch, and Twilight watched them go, then turned back to the mer. The mer had wrapped their arms around his neck to hold on, and was looking between the retreating forms of Time and Malon and back to Twilight.

“You don’t have gills,” they said.

Twilight tried to look down at his neck (unsuccessfully), and shrugged. “I do, but they’re closed up right now. I don’t need them in my human form,”

“Oh,” the mer said, then nodded. “That makes sense,”

Twilight stood up, grunting as he shifted how he was holding the mer, and began slowly walking up to the house. Slowly because he didn’t want to trip at all.

Sure enough, Malon and Time had set up a horse trough in the kitchen with a small amount of water in it, towels and other soft materials lining the edge. Twilight knelt down and set the mer in it, being careful to be mindful of the still only mostly healed injuries.

The trough was just a bit too small, the mer’s tail sticking out the one end even fully sitting up.

Twilight and the mer both looked at the arrangement, taking in the cramped conditions.

“Well, this is most certainly a temporary thing,” Time sighed, holding a bucket of water in his hands and frowning at the arrangement. “I’ll call Ruto and see if any of the zora have anything that can help tomorrow,”

“That would be good,” Twilight agreed, voicing the mer’s nod.

(---)

The zora did promise to help with better accommodations, but it would take a while. So the mer spent a week and a half in a repurposed horse trough.

They took the mer back out to the shore every day, and Time and Twilight tried to help him relearn how to swim with his injuries. A zora princess, Mipha, also often attended these lessons after Time had called Ruto and gotten the zora involved. Mipha was a healer, and Ruto had made it very clear that they would be looking into poaching in their waters as that was unacceptable, and wanted to make it up to the poor victim.

This worked well, as the mer took quite a liking to Mipha, and she to him.

Of course, this was also where Twilight and Time learned just how outgoing their new family member was.

Malon called him their ‘wild child’, and after a while ‘Wild’ just became his name.

It fit, if nothing else.

Even on land, Wild continually became more and more vocal and involved in day to day life. He had been very quiet and reserved when they first brought him home, probably a side effect of his memory loss, but as he got more comfortable with them he started coming out of his shell more.

He would sometimes remember random things, and sometimes they would be sad things and others would be happy, but it was never anything big, or that they could use to find his original pod.

Wild didn’t seem to mind that much. He mentioned more than once that he was happy where he was, and was glad Twilight had found him that day in the open water.

The day he called Twilight his brother was the day that Twilight decided he wasn’t going to easily let go of Wild. This was his little brother now and Wild was part of his pod. Time didn’t argue this declaration, just told Twilight to go make sure Wild didn’t hurt himself showing off for Mipha.

Wild did not get hurt showing off for Mipha. Barely.

Wild adapted rather well to the lack of fins, and eventually was swimming just as gracefully as Twilight. Which still wasn’t very graceful, but it was effective enough that he was swimming confidently.

Which is when they spotted the boat.

It was a marine research boat, Wild recognized it but didn’t know why. Marine researchers weren’t allowed in zora controlled waters, it was one of the things they did to crack down on poachers. Hard to pose as marine researchers when marine researchers weren’t allowed in the first place.

‘We should go find Mipha,’ Twilight flashed at Wild, watching the ship warily.

Wild said nothing and didn’t move, just looking at the ship.

‘Wild,’ Twilight grabbed his arm. ‘We should go,’

Wild turned and blinked at him. ‘I know this ship,’

That sent Twilight’s heart up into his throat. He couldn’t stop himself from eying Wild’s scars, a reminder of the poaching that he’d survived.

Twilight swallowed hard, reminding himself that if this was what he was worried about then he’d need to be the one to stay calm, and tightened his grip on Wild’s arm a tiny bit. ‘We need to go,’ he flashed again, trying to press more urgency this time.

Wild shook his head. ‘I know this ship,’ he repeated.

Twilight took a deep breath, glancing up at the ship and seeing people start looking over the side of the ship. That did not calm his nerves. ‘Wild, marine researchers aren’t allowed here. And,’ he trailed off, biting his lip as he struggled and failed to avoid looking at the scars.

Wild caught on and shook his head. ‘I have a good feeling about this ship. I think it’s a good thing,’

Twilight did his best to avoid the worry and panic building in his chest. ‘They still can’t be here. These are zora waters, marine researchers aren’t allowed here. We need to go tell Mipha and Ruto,’

Wild shrugged. ‘Go then, I’ll wait here,’

‘I am not leaving here without you,’ Twilight flashed.

People on the ship were pointing now, and a small boat was being loaded to lower.

Twilight was starting to really worry now, biting his lip and trying not to squeeze Wild’s arm any harder.

‘Wild, please,’

‘You’re really freaking out, aren’t you?’ Wild asked.

Twilight nodded, not bothering to hide it with how the smaller boat had all but hit the water already. They were basically already out of time.

‘Okay,’ Wild offered him, as though he was consoling a small child, which Twilight would be offended by in any other circumstance. ‘Let’s go find Mipha and Ruto and tell them there’s a boat here that shouldn’t be,’

Twilight relaxed just a bit. ‘Thank you,’

They turned to swim off just as the person in the small boat started shouting.

“LINK!”

Twilight startled, not sure how this person knew his real name, as he’d been named after his father and so they both had nicknames. Wild, however, froze.

“LINK!”

Twilight turned to look, seeing a blonde woman with short cut hair leaning over the edge of the small boat, the arm not balancing her switching between waving and cupping her mouth when she yelled.

“LINK!”

‘Wild?’ Twilight asked, shaking his shoulder slightly.

Wild snapped out of whatever daze he was in, twisting in the water to look at the woman.

“ZELDA?!” He shouted back, bubbles erupting from his mouth.

Twilight reared back. Wild never spoke out loud when underwater. Even in the big tank the zora installed for him in their house, he either flashed or surfaced to speak to them.

It didn’t even register that Wild knew the woman’s name until after Wild was already halfway to the surface.

Twilight panicked and followed.

Twilight made it to the surface slower than Wild, and very carefully peeked his eyes above the surface.

Wild had jumped up and had his arms hooked over the side of the boat, and was laughing alongside the woman.

“Oh, and who’s this?” ‘Zelda’ asked, spotting Twilight.

Twilight sunk just a bit further in the water, narrowing his eyes warily.

“Oh! That’s my brother, Twilight!” Wild waved him over, grinning. “Twi! This is Zelda! She’s a friend of mine!”

Twilight cautiously approached, trying to hide how his heart was still ramming in his chest. He poked the rest of his head out of the water.

“Hello Twilight,” Zelda smiled. “I didn’t realize Link had any siblings,”

“Hello,” Twilight said, voice carefully kept even, which was about as polite as he could manage. “You do realize your ship is illegally traveling through zora controlled waters, right?”

Zelda blinked at him, and Wild glowered. Twilight just waited.

“Well, no,” Zelda admitted. “My father had said he’d spoken to the zora here, and that we’d be able to pass through to look for Link. He went missing a while ago, and we’ve been very worried,”

“He was lying,” Twilight informed her bluntly. “If he really had spoken to the zora then he’d know that we’d found him already, and there’s no need to look,”

Both Wild and Zelda blinked at him.

“You’re certain?” Zelda asked.

Twilight lifted an arm to gesture at Wild. “How many merfolk do you know that would match his description?”

Zelda turned to look at Wild, who in turn blinked down at himself.

“You make a very good point,” Zelda conceded.

“You should probably get your boat out of here, before you get into a lot of trouble,” Twilight advised.

“Right, a very good idea. Thank you for warning me,” Zelda smiled, and Twilight could almost believe she was sincere, but he didn’t really want to do so, just in case.

“We won’t tell anyone about it,” Wild offered, and Twilight sent him a half-hearted glare. “So you don’t need to worry about getting in trouble,”

Twilight HAD planned to tell Time and Ruto about it.

“We will need to tell them that someone had lied about speaking to them about getting permission,” Twilight reminded Wild. “That could become a big problem in the future,”

“Oh,” Wild seemed to deflate.

“We don’t need to tell them who was here though,” Twilight offered hesitantly at Wild’s dejected look, not really caring about how worried Zelda was. “We can leave the ship and it’s crew anonymous,”

“Thank you,” Zelda gasped in relief again, smiling.

Twilight shrugged. “I will need your father’s name, though. For the report,”

“Oh, uh, right,” Zelda fumbled, but did provide a name.

“You should come visit!” Wild grinned. “I’d love to introduce you to the rest of the family!”

“The rest of your family?” Zelda asked.

Wild nodded. “Yeah, mom and dad,”

Zelda frowned. “Link, didn’t you tell me your parents had died in a wreck a few years ago?”

Wild blinked. “They did?”

Twilight looked between them. “You didn’t tell her about the amnesia, did you?”

“Amnesia?”

Wild slid off the side of the boat and sunk up to his nose under the water, his hair floating like spider legs around him.

Twilight sighed. “I found him a few weeks ago floating injured in the water here. I brought him home and my parents and I healed him, which is when we learned he had no memories of anything before I found him. We brought him home with us, since we didn’t want to just leave him alone in the sea. The parents he mentioned are my parents, since we adopted him into our pod after a week or so,”

“Oh,” Zelda blinked.

“I’ve been remembering things though!” Wild piped up. “It’s how I recognized you,”

“Well, I’m very glad to hear that,” Zelda smiled. “And, I’d love to visit your new family, if they’d let me,”

She and Wild both looked at Twilight.

Twilight shrugged. “Mom is human and Dad and I are merrow, so show up on land without the ship and we’d be happy to let you in. We have been trying to find Wild’s original pod,”

“Wild?” Zelda blinked.

“We didn’t know his name and he didn’t remember,” Twilight explained. “We’ve been calling him Wild,”

“Ah,” Zelda nodded. “That makes sense. Where do you live? We’ll turn the ship around and meet you over land,”

Wild happily provided her their address, and she signalled for her smaller boat to be lifted up, promising to visit over land.

They watched until the ship had fully turned and left, and then headed back home.

Wild swam up to swim in front of Twilight.

‘You won’t get her in trouble, will you?’

‘The only person I plan to get in trouble is her father,’ Twilight explained.

‘Thank you,’ Wild flashed back.

Twilight did get Zelda’s father in a lot of trouble. Ruto had blown up, and Time, despite being dimmer than a true mer, still managed to nearly blind them as he went off.

It ended with Time and Ruto swimming off, publicly and angrily plotting while off on a warpath. Time likely had the same thoughts Twilight had.

They didn’t even have time to explain that they should be expecting company.

So they surfaced, Wild slapping the water while Twilight pulled on his skirt, and then Twilight carried Wild back to the house.

They decided to start by telling Malon that they’d have company before getting to the bit about Zelda’s dad lying.

A few hours later and Time walked in, still dripping and wearing only his skirt from coming out of the water. He was cursing under his breath.

Which is when the knock on the door sounded.

Wild shot up over the top of his tank, excitedly asking if it was Zelda, which confused Time immensely. Malon went to explain, and Twilight opened the door.

Zelda was tucking a bit of hair behind one of her ears, whispering with one of the people with her when the door swung open. The talking stopped when they saw him, not unexpected considering he was a big guy made mostly of muscle before even taking in the claws or second eyelid that came from being merrow.

Three people stood around her, sheikah Twilight guessed, based on the pure white hair and reddish eyes. One of the women had a streak of red dyed in her hair, and the man had a rather absurd haircut. At least the last woman looked mostly normal. Er, at least in that sense that she was only dressed like she was some kind of ninja or something. A gerudo woman stood a few feet back, watching him closely.

Twilight just smiled, not bothering to hide his fangs since he knew Zelda was already aware he was merrow.

“Zelda! You made it! We’ve been pretty excited about you coming over,”

Zelda smiled back. “Twilight! I’m glad we got the right house. It’s a pleasure to see you,” she waved at her companions. “I hope you don’t mind, I brought a few more mutual friends of Link and I’s, since we’ve all been really worried about him. This is Impa, Purah and Robbie, and that’s Urbosa back there!”

Urbosa stepped up to the porch, eying Twilight. He got the impression she maybe didn’t know he was merrow.

“So, you’re the one who found and rescued Link,” Urbosa greeted.

Twilight nodded. “I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he offered his hand.

Urbosa accepted, eying the claws on his hand.

“Twilight?” Malon called, appearing behind him. “Is this the friend you and Wild mentioned?”

Twilight nodded, and stepped aside, inviting them all in.

Malon greeted them happily, waving them into the living room where Wild was mostly out of his tank.

Wild slipped when he went to wave, and Time reached up calmly to catch him. Time hadn’t bothered to change, but was wearing a towel around his shoulders and was no longer dripping.

“Careful,” Time warned. “You don’t want to fall out,” he said it seriously, but there was mirth in his eye.

Wild grinned sheepishly, but without shame, and slipped back into the tank.

Zelda ran right up to the tank, craning her head up to look at Wild, her companions following her.

“Link!”

Time swiveled his head to her, looking confused, and Twilight hid his snort behind his hand. Time eyed him as well.

“Zelda!” Wild grinned. “You came!”

Zelda scoffed. “Of course I came! And, I brought more friends of ours!” She waved at the others, who all echoed their own greetings.

“Twilight,” Time said slowly. “Did you know Wild was having friends over?”

“We tried to tell you when we reported the confused marine research ship,” Twilight explained. “But you and Ruto got so mad that we couldn’t find a spot to jump in, and then you both swam off. So we came home and told Ma,”

Time nodded, eying the group. “And, you’ve learned Wild’s real name?”

“Yes,” Twilight confirmed.

“And his name is Link?”

“Yes,”

Twilight’s grin never wavered, and Time just sighed. Malon burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Impa asked, eying the group.

“Oh, I,” Malon coughed, trying to reign in her laughter enough to speak. “There’s three of you!”

Time sighed, and Twilight’s grin just grew.

“What does that mean?” Zelda asked.

“I’m Link Jr,” Twilight explained, pointing. “Dad is Link Sr,”

A few more voices join Malon’s in laughter.

Time sighed again.

“I’m going to go get dressed,” Time said, walking out of the room, flicking his towel up over his head and pointedly ignoring the rest of them.

Twilight finally broke and snorted.

The conversation went very well actually, and Urbosa relaxed quite a bit once it was explained to her what merrow were. She came from the desert, and so hadn’t ever encountered merrow before, which explained the weird looks she gave Twilight when he opened the door.

Zelda promised to visit more as well, and to bring more of their mutual friends in the future, and agreed to stay for supper when Malon offered.

“Oh, Wild,” she turned on their way out, looking a bit curious and confused. “I have a question,”

“Yeah?” Wild asked, leaning out of his tank and still grinning.

“Why are you in a tank and your brother and father aren’t?”

Wild blinked. “Because they have legs,” he said, like it was obvious.

“Well, yes,” Zelda agreed. “But, so do you,”

“What do you mean?” Wild asked.

“Wild, you do know that you’re merrow, and not mer, don’t you?”

“I’M WHAT?!?!”

[tamagochiie]

when the rumbling came; erwin smith

pairing. Erwin Smith x Fem!reader 

synopsis. You were tired of work, of people, and of life treating you poorly. You quickly came to the conclusion that if you were going to end your life, now would probably be a good time as any. 

word count. 3.36k

tags + warnings. TRIGGER WARNING! depression, attempted to attempt suicide, reader being completely dead inside (metaphorically), modern!au, office!au (just a pinch), angst, comfort/fluff, 

notes. I don’t romanticize depression or suicide. Writing is my way of coping and dealing with everything that’s going on right now; don’t worry, I’m okay, really I am. So, this one shot is more or less self indulgent. Please, if you you’re going through some hardships don’t hesitate to reach out for help. My inbox is also free, and I’m always willing to listen. 

You had alway built yourself in a firm foundation made of rocks, that nothing could ever shake you and even if it did, you’d snap back like an elastic band. But very recently, very, very recently, you’ve been living on a faultline and for a while now there’d be tremors - nothing strong enough to shake you, though. 

But your foundation soon turned into sand as the weeks came by and stress came to you in waves. The little tremors eventually turned into big ones. You found yourself swaying, crumbling, and now you were barely reaching the end of the week without falling to your knees and weeping, your pleas for mercy hung in the air, right in your face as if it were mocking you. 

The home you had built for yourself had fallen into rubble and nothing could protect you. 

Nothing could save you from all the wind and rain, and quite frankly, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to be saved. Being saved meant continuing on, meant trudging through the fight and you had no more fight left in you. 

So there you sat, on the very edge of the roof of your office building with your feet dangling. Night life in the city glimmered and glowed, completely ignorant to you suffering. But it looked nice and you found yourself thankful because at least life was kind enough to give you one last “good” view before you did the deed. 

I’d just have to scoot and I’d be on my way to the pavement, you thought idly. 

You weren’t even scared, and maybe that’s what scared you, that you were completely okay with ending it here. That you didn’t even bat an eye when the idea came into your head while you bought yourself a sandwich during your lunch break. 

It kinda felt easy like solving 1+1.

So maybe it was your calmness that scared you. Maybe it's the fact that once you had made up your mind, you had been set as if you were picking out clothes for the next day kind of set. 

You swung your feet, feeling yourself scooch closer to the edge and your heart didn’t even race - not even a flutter.

You craned your neck back to look at the sky, not a single star in sight. You heavily sighed and played with your hands while you teared up and eventually cried. All the burdens you carried, the responsibilities you shouldered, and the insecurities you kept close to your heart flooded out of you in one single, painstaking sob. 

Your chest heaved and your voice cracked as you screamed into a void, knowing you’d never be heard over all the honking and clamouring from the city beneath you. 

“I dunno who's listening,” You croak to the night, your throat dry from all the crying, “but if I’m not supposed to die tonight, can you give me a sign...or something? Like, send someone out here to do a handstand or something. If - If there’s like, any sliver of hope I have left or whatever...If I’m not supposed to end here, then just do that because I really dunno if I’m supposed to hang on anymore...” 

You never prayed a single prayer in your life, maybe just once when you were wavering in your ability to attain such a fine job as this, or when both your parents fell ill and you were left alone to fend for yourself. But other than that, you more or less suffered silently, cried to yourself when you needed to, and pulled yourself out of trouble. 

It was late into the night, so the prayer was already silly to begin with. Everyone had gone home and you made sure of it because you hid in the bathroom until the lights turned off and the floor of your office was completely silent. 

And the more you thought about it, as you imagined yourself hiding in that bathroom like a dumbass, you felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment. 

Well, it wasn’t like you were going to be alive to bear it into tomorrow morning anyway. 

You flinched at the sudden sound of the fire exit creaking open, the metal scratching against the pavement. You turned your head and squinted at the shadows and the little light provided by the exit sign. 

“Hello?” You called out to the shadows and flinched when you saw it move, heedlessly pulling yourself away from the edge as you leaned back to take a closer look. 

You gasped lowly as a familiar, rather burly figure emerged from the darkness. It was your boss, Mr. Smith, who had his eyes widen in surprise, as if he was shocked to have actually found someone on the roof. 

He narrowed his gaze on you and wore a tight lip as he studied you intently. He stayed near the fire exit, hand in the pocket of his clean cut slacks while the other hung by his side. 

You had sworn everyone had gone home. 

Not everyone, you supposed. 

“Can I help you?” You asked through your sniffling, but Mr. Smith kept quiet; the silence grew to be quite awkward the longer he stood there. 

After a few beats, he stepped forward, rolling up the sleeves of his button up shirt before he ran his fingers through his hair. A tremulous breath escaped his lips as he spun on the heels of his shoes, facing the wall. 

You cocked your head, blinking owlishly at him. And in one, fluid motion, with little to no effort, he bent down to lean onto his hands and kicked his feet up to the air, leaning against the wall for support. 

He did a handstand. 

What? 

You would be laughing if you weren’t in the state you were in. 

Mr. Smith was still looking directly at you as he stood on his hands, his clothes bunched up beneath his chin while his face burned red from the sudden rush of blood to his head.  

All you could do was leave your mouth hanging open, blinking at him in bewilderment. 

With a faint grunt, Mr. Smith brought his feet back to the ground and pushed himself off his hands. He brushed his hands together to dust away the dirt before he looked back to you as he ran his hands down the creases of his vest. 

“Before you say anything,” He spoke, his voice deep and velvety, “I have absolutely no idea why I did that, but there was a little voice in my head that told me to.” 

You licked your lips and stayed quiet, still taking in what had just happened. 

“But my question is,” He began, “are you okay?”

“Do I look like I’m okay?” You spat, but you bit your tongue and cleared your throat when you realized who you were talking to. “Sorry,” You quietly muttered, twisting yourself back to look at the building in front of you. 

You listened as the footsteps behind you drew closer, ultimately coming to a quiet halt. 

“Mind if I join you?” He dipped his head down to look at you and you glanced at him in the corner of your eye, shrugging your shoulders. 

Mr. Smith took the spot beside you and swung his feet over the ledge, mirroring the way you sat before digging his hand back into his pocket to pull out a packet of cigarettes. 

“You got a lighter?” He asked, sticking a cigarette between his lips. You shook your head, amazed at his nonchalant demeanor. “That’s okay, I’ve got one.” 

You watched him with a puzzled look as he lit his cigarette and blew a smoke. 

It was pretty obvious what you were trying to do; your eyes were red and looked sore, your cheeks stained with tears, and not to mention you were setting on the ledge of a build without your shoes on. 

How was he so calm?

“I’ve seen you around the office,” He recalled, blowing a few more smokes before he turned to you, “you look like a hard worker.” 

“Depends on how you define ‘hard worker’,” You mumbled. Mr. Smith brought the cigarette in front of you as if signaling you to take it. You do. “I’m more of a half-assed worker that’s just ebbing and flowing bullshit just to get the job done so I can go home and wallow in self-pity in silence.” 

He chuckled. It sounded sweet. 

“So why are you sitting on the ledge?” 

You drew out a smoke. 

“I don’t wanna live anymore.” You deadpanned. “I hate my life and I hate that it’s fucked me in the ass -” You blew another smoke before passing it back to Mr. Smith, your body a lot more calmer and your mind unfiltered, “ - without even my consent.” 

“I don’t blame you,” He said earnestly, and it shocked you. The golden boy who strolled up and down the office floors with his chest out, head held high, and a smile that made every woman’s knees go weak was agreeing with you. His eyes looked like it held all the hope and promise in the world, yet he was agreeing with you.“But are you sure you wanna do that? What if life gets better?” 

You snickered though no trace of amusement on your face. 

“I’ve been living on ‘what ifs’, Mr. Smith,” You pointed out plainly, “I’m not about to keep going. What’s the point of living on ‘what ifs’ when nothing happens? At the end of the day, I’m just an idiot that keeps thinking, ‘What if today’s better?’, ‘What if there’s a new flavor of ice cream that’s been released and it turns out to be my favorite?’ -- it’s stupid.” 

“What if your boss gives you a raise?” He smirked at you playfully but you only rolled your eyes. “What? It was worth a try.” 

“Your try was shit.” 

“What about if you tried a different approach?” 

“Look, Mr. Smith,” You sighed in annoyance and snatched the cigarette from his hand and propped it between your lips, “I don’t have a lot of fight left in me, okay? I’ve tried, I failed. That’s it. So, would you just leave me to do what I need to do? Please?” 

“If you wanted to kill yourself, you would’ve done it by now.” 

You threw him a sour look, offended that he didn’t think you could do it. 

But why would you be upset about that? 

“You don’t know me.” You muttered.

“I know well enough that if you wanted to call quits, you wouldn’t have sat here for nearly an hour, praying for a sign.” 

“You heard?” 

He nodded. 

“You lied!” You raised your voice and without giving it much thought, you punched him in the arm. “You said you didn’t know why you came up here!” 

“Oh, I didn’t,” He calmly argued. “Not completely, anyway. I saw you go up when I was on my way out. When I noticed you didn’t take your things, not even your phone, I had a gut feeling it was something bad.” 

“I waited for a little while,” He explained, “I thought that maybe you wanted some fresh air, but the longer I waited, the more worried I got. So I went up the steps just to check on you, and your voice...did you know your voice carries well in the stairwell? I heard your voice, small and completely detached from life. Even then, you were asking for help, and how could I refuse?”

“Do you make it a point to get into other people’s business?” 

“Only when they’re trying to take their life.”  

“And now what?” You sounded detached and uninterested, and he didn’t blame you for it. He never spoke to you outside of meetings or work, not even once. Of course his words wouldn’t have any impact. “Are you gonna tell me not to go through with it, talk me down or something? You gonna tell me ‘If you can’t live for yourself, then live for me’? That kinda dumb shit?” 

He shook his head, a faint pout on his lips. Despite your mocking tone, Mr. Smith remained calm and didn’t take it personally. Though you kinda wish he did, so he could leave you alone.

“No, nothing like that....” Mr. Smith weighed his options, choosing his next words and his next approach carefully.

He’s been here before and he falls into shallow thought, remembering all the things he didn’t do and see if he could do it now.  

“I - I’ve been both on both ends of the situation, I just -” Mr. Smith sighed heavily, as he rubbed his hands together, “- I didn’t do anything last time, so - so when I saw you I thought maybe I could somehow make up for it.” 

“That kinda sounds shitty,” You pointed out. 

It was indeed a shitty thing that you were somehow being used to clear a conscience, but you understood where his heart was at.  It was nice that he was trying - it was nice that someone had noticed. 

But that’s all that it was for you: it was just nice. 

“I’m just so fucking tired,” You admitted, your eyes stinging with fresh tears. You tilted your head back to keep it from spilling, but like all of your attempts at anything, you failed. “I’m so fucking tired of being tired, and nothing’s going right. I’ve tried different approaches, changing my mindset. I even did all these stupid Pinterest self-help boards, but that didn’t help either. I’m desperately grasping for straws and I’ve finally decided to just...stop.” 

You rolled your head, looking at your boss with lifeless eyes and it terrified him. He didn’t know what to say - not then and most certainly not now. But what does anyone say to a person who’s given up all hope and interest in living? 

You seemed to have made up your mind and Mr. Smith worried that he’d have another life in his hands. He didn’t want that and he found himself growing desperate. 

He liked you, whether it be a co-worker or something else, he liked seeing you around the office. You were smart and though you looked soft spoken, you most certainly weren’t. You never ceased to amaze him with the things you submitted, so he truly wondered why you felt so inadequate. 

Mr. Smith couldn’t help but blame himself for not paying attention.

“I say don’t die,” He said rather confidentiality, and you furrowed your brows at this. He was becoming persistent in his meddling. “I say wait it out another day or week, and then if you really wanna, fine. I’ll even leave the emergency exit unlocked for you.” 

You widened your eyes, your mouth parted but not a single sound came out. 

“Why should I wait when I can do it right now?” 

“Because of the ‘what ifs’.” 

You grunted. 

“I already told you --” 

“Yes, but what if I tried to help you?” 

“I’m not going to be your charity case, Mr. Smith,” You chastised. “I’d rather die than be your charity case.” 

“You won’t be,” He said rather calmly. A small smile crept across his lips and his eyes twinkled against the faint glow of the city lights. “You’ll be my friend and I, too, need a friend.” 

“Mr. Smith --” 

“Call me Erwin.” 

You cleared your throat. You felt embarrassed to say the least. You opened your mouth and found it weird when you spoke his name. You didn’t like it, but it was something you could get used to. 

“Why would you wanna be my friend?” 

“Because life’s fucked me in the ass without my consent, too.” It was weird hearing something so crass coming from the poster boy of perfection and all things pure. You almost thought you’d completely lost it and had imagined he ever said it. “And I heard that suffering with someone makes the experience a little less painful and a little more bearable. So, won’t you be my friend and suffer with me?” 

Mr. Smith noticed your hesitance, even more so when he held his left hand out for you to take. It felt formal like he was trying to close a business deal or something. It was a bit weird. 

“You’re not gonna be my reason for living,” You said, letting his hand awkwardly hang in the air. But he didn’t bother to retract it. “I’m not looking for a savior.” 

“You’re looking for your strength and so am I, so let’s just look together and see what we find, mm?” 

You looked at him, studied him. Why did he care so much, and why did you want to know? 

After all, you did ask for a sign, yet here you were being stubborn and pretending as if you hadn’t seen it at all. You didn’t believe in miracles or spectacular alignments of the universe, but when you took his hand, you felt a warmth of reassurance - a sense of peace. 

Suddenly, with a high pitch yelp from your lips, Mr. Smith quickly moved his left hand and wrapped it over you and pulled you down with him as he threw himself back onto the pavement behind you. His right hand cushioned your blow and he winced in pain when he caught you. 

You found yourself tightly gripping onto the material of his sleeve when you took a peak to check on Mr. Smith. He was looking down at you, a nervous smile plastered across his face. 

You shoved him off, muttering to yourself as you patted yourself down. 

“That was uncalled for.” You grumbled. 

“How would I know? You would’ve changed your mind for all I know.” 

“I took your hand!” You chided. “That was basically me saying, ‘Okay, I’ll be your friend’! What if you had thrown yourself forward instead!” 

“But I didn’t.” He replied calmly, a smile, one that irked you completely, pulled the corners of his lips. 

“Yeah, but what if you had?” 

“But I didn’t.”

He stood up from the floor and patted the dust and dirt of his pants before reaching down to help you up from the ground. 

“Thank you for being my friend,” Mr. Smith grinned. “I promise you won’t regret it.” 

You rolled your eyes as he kept his hold around your hand, shaking it. 

“Your promises don’t mean much to me.” 

 It had been months since your moment on the rooftop with Erwin. Though he had been keen, inviting you out for lunch, for dinner, and spared some time for small talk in passing, you were still walking on eggshells, especially because you worried that it might’ve looked unprofessional. 

But really, no one cared as much as you did. Everyone had just assumed Erwin was just being kind. But still, it gave you more stress than it did comfort you, and though you had spat a few unkind words his way, he never left. 

He always came back with a bright smile and offerings, whether it were candies or actual food. 

Eventually, you eased in and you were no longer agitated. You found yourself looking forward to Erwin’s occasional visits to your desk or when he’d ask you out for some coffee. 

At the end of every day Erwin would never miss a beat and would ask you how you were doing, and it never felt performative or forced. He was warm and genuine, and he’d share his burdens with you, too. 

And you found yourself realizing that he was right, that struggling with someone made things a little less painful and a little more bearable. That despite the struggle, knowing someone so patient and understanding, would be there to catch you. 

“Hey,” You spoke over the rim of your freshly brewed tea as you sat across the little round table of the coffee shop. Erwin’s eyes flicked up at you as he took a bite of his muffin. “Thanks,” 

He raised a brow and cocked his head to the side, “What for?” He asked, his words muffled by his stuffed mouth. 

“Thanks for being my friend.” 

He smiled, a few crumbs falling from his lips and onto his plate. 

“Thank you for being mine.” 

[corpsentry]

january: an art retrospective

i did some stuff last month (but it’s a lot of stuff and there’s a photodump + some Serious Fucking Reflection, so it’s all below the cut)

so ok, let’s start with this. here are some heads. each head has a red arrow. that red arrow is what i call the red line of the devil. it’s the slope of the face from the side of the eye to the cheekbone and then down towards the chin. up until like 2 weeks ago, i couldn’t draw it. i couldn’t fucking draw it. i would edit over that part of the face over and over again until i was frustrated and tired and i had a raging homosexual headache and it still never looked right. notice that each head is different. notice that each head looks wrong.

at the start of 2021 i finally admitted to myself, as per the image above, that i was deeply, deeply unhappy with my art. what was the problem? i dunno. but i decided i was going to fix it and i was going to do so via another one scribble a day event wherein for every day of january i would find a photo of a human head, and i would draw it.

january 1st, 2021. i was embarrassed to tweet this even on my private account where like 5 friends and a rock would see it. in retrospect, you can also see all of my bad habits emerging like dicks from a hole in the ground. it’s disproportionate. the brows look flat. the eyes are slanting upwards. the entire drawing looks flat, like this isn’t a 3d person but a caricature of one.

january 2nd, 3rd, 4th:

on the 2nd i decided to start a separate thread for doodles and applied learning. here’s the first set of tests

the rest of the week is kind of uneventful so we’re going to skip those. fast forward to january 11th

this one is especially bad. i am acutely aware, suddenly, that i am not changing anything at all. i’m stressed and miserable about it because i’m still trying to see people as people and trying to draw people that look attractive and proportionate and hot. my friend, leny, reminds me that i need to think about faces in terms of planes. i have a moment. my other friend masha sends me some links to anatomy tutorials. i have another moment.

january 11th. applied sketch

january 13th is when i start the troubleshooting process. the link above drives me mad because i’m pretty happy with the face but then i realize that there’s something very fucking wrong with the shape of the head LOL and then i realize that i’ve never had any idea what the proportion of the face to the rest of the skull is so i grit my teeth and i open a new canvas and i

bald studies. it seemed like the right thing to do. can’t draw heads? ok draw some heads. look at some photographs. i traced each photo but tried to stick to straight lines so that i could replicate the shapes more easily. i broke each face down into shapes. i thought about airplanes

i got really excited. i started doing studies, then applied studies, then stylized studies.

sketches. i’m not sure what’s going on (as always) and it’s very rough, but they look different from the sketches i did on january 2nd. that’s a start

january 16th’s daily study. looks more like a person now. juuuuuust a bit

more applied studies

on the 18th i take a break and go stare at some lips because i don’t understand how the fuck they work. again, i focus on shapes, on volume, on the fact that these things exist in 3d. holy fuck lips exist in 3d. holy fuck we are real

january 19th. i’m working on it.

january 22nd. some sketches + a daily study. it has finally occurred to me that heads can tilt up and down and that things look different accordingly. yes i was not aware of this before. yes i have been drawing for over a decade.

january 23rd. by this point after doing my daily sketch i almost always go back and do an applied study which is basically to say i drew a lot of fucking links. this one looks kind of okay. i’m kind of proud

january 25th. links. trying to make sense of everything i’ve learned

26th, 27th, 28th. daily studies

january 1st. january 31st

The End Of The Photo Dump (dab)

ok NOW i get to talk about what i discovered while studying the shit out of human beings

FIRST OF ALL, there is something precious and magical about drawing shit without the explicit knowledge that you’re going to tweet that shit out to 45 people later. it takes the burden of perception off your shoulders and that does something to you, or at least that’s my theory. i told myself i wouldn’t post any of this stuff until the end of the month (if i wanted to post it at all) and kept everything off my public social media accounts and that meant i could draw ugly as hell without worrying about who would point and laugh, which i absolutely fucking did. a lot of these are fucking trainwrecks. most of these are fucking trainwrecks. why do they look like that?? why??? this doesn’t look like the work of someone who’s allegedly been drawing since they were in kindergarten, does it?????

here’s why: because that person took a huge motherfucking swing at everything they’d ever known about art and spent a month building something new in its place. the abstract explanation is that i grew up on shoujo and weird old anime and my understanding of anatomy was unironically kamichama karin and while i love kamichama karin, when kamichama karin is your rule even if you try to break it, you’re going to end up going nowhere. “you have to know the rules to break them”, yeah? well i didn’t know shit. the abstract explanation is i’ve been miserable about my art for a few years now because i saw other people doing things effortlessly which i couldn’t and instead of going back to the basics, i tried to do what they did (not plagiarism, mind you, i mean i literally tried to copy the red line of the devil i mentioned above because i couldn’t even make that happen) and then i fucking failed.

the simple explanation is this. i had to unlearn everything, and relearn it again (like some kind of new renaissance clown, what the fuck is this?)

take this for example. all my life i’ve drawn faces in the order: eyes, nose, mouth, face shape, head. this works for some people, im aware, but it was something central to how i had always drawn, so i decentralized it. i said fuck you to the old me and changed the order up. now i start with the nose, then the eyes, mouth, the chin line, and the sides of the face. now i force myself to think about the human head as a series of parts interacting with each other instead of a bunch of disparate features which i want to look pretty.

or let’s use this zelda from last year. something about this looked wrong last october, the way something about all of my drawings looked wrong, but i couldn’t pinpoint it for hell the way i couldn’t articulate Any of my feelings about the visual arts. now, looking back, here’s what i see. that nose is sticking out far too much given how she’s not really facing very far away from the camera. that ear at the back shouldn’t be there. her forehead is too big. she doesn’t have a forehead. what the fuck is up with the shape of her head?

so apparently reject modernity embrace tradition has its roots in alt-right terminology and i’m not very horny for the alt-right (you understand), but the spirit survives here. you know sometimes you have to admit that you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing and draw people for 31 days. i’ve spent my whole life drawing stylized people and while again there are artists who have no issue with this, i veered off the track of the Good and the Holy and couldn’t get back on. i had no point of reference because i’d never thought about what an actual human being looks like, so i had no way to fix what i knew in my gut looked wrong but wouldn’t come out better.

this was hard. this was like oikawa tooru swallowing his worthless pride and admitting that ushijima wakatoshi had gotten the best of him for the last time in his high school career, but in haikyuu!! by furudate haruichi oikawa tooru fucks off to argentina and then joins the argentinean national team, and you know what, i think i’ve made it to argentina (not the team just the country). as per the golden rule of dont fucking move until you’re at least two thirds of the way through the month, i only started trying to draw Shit shit on like the 22nd or something, but i was happy with that i created. i am happy with what i’ve done. i’ve posted like 2 things this month that involve people with what i now call ~applied Knowledge~~ and they’re, like, not perfect obviously (perfection is an unattainable ideal), but i’m fucking proud of them. i didn’t spend 5 hours hunched over my laptop adjusting the red line of the devil because it’s not a devil’s line anymore. because i finally sorta get how people work. because i sat down and i said ‘we are not going to fuck with this misery shit anymore’ and then i did that. it’s just a line now.

here are 2 collages tracking my painstakingly carved out progress from january 2nd to february 2nd because i’m a slut for collages

and here’s what i’ve done to my art! the same person drew these but also Not Really! you know! for the first time in a year i don’t immediately hate what i’ve drawn. you know what guys? art is fucking fun. zelda’s forehead doesn’t scare me anymore because i know how foreheads fucking work now, and i don’t know everything, and i’m going to keep troubleshooting stuff as i go (i want to draw a skeleton. like a. i want to draw a goddamn skeleton guys) but i’m honestly and genuinely proud of what i’ve done in the span of a month, and i’m also in disbelief. i started this month-long challenge out as a last ditch effort to make peace with my art because i’ve been tired for a long time and i was ready to kick the bucket on drawing people altogether. i didn’t think anything would happen. nothing’s happened for years. i’ve been miserable for years.

this was the caption for january 1st, 2021. i was super, super fucking embarrassed and it looks like super fucking shit, but you know what, i think i did in fact triumph over the bullshit. surprisingly enough, when you put in consistent effort into something, You Will See Results. didn’t see that coming, did you? i know i didn’t.

this isn’t a success story. it’s a happiness story. i never gave a shit damn about the institute of art or whatever, i was just mad at myself because what i saw in my head didn’t match up with what was on the canvas. and now it’s getting better. now i’m calibrating the compass. now drawing not just backgrounds but also people is exciting to me, and i can stick my links in your face and tell you ‘they hot’. i’m going to keep doing that. i’m going to keep going until i drop off the side of the earth and then spiral towards mars like some kind of fairy, and then i’m going to create something beautiful.

thanks for reading. here’s a pr department link for sticking around until the end

[hes-writer]

To You (4)

Summary: harry dates y/n to get closer to her best friend

Warnings: mild angst (what else lol), not a lot of dialogue for this one, and a bit of fluff

Word Count: 2775 words

A/N: I've had the worst writer's block for this series but then inspiration struck me at 2 am and I had the chance to write a lil sumthin sumthin for the next part :D

Read the full series in my masterlist (bio)

As I mentioned before, this story kind of goes backwards.

____

As self-deprecating as it is, Y/N couldn’t help but feel her guard lower with each fleeting glance at her phone. She didn’t mean to, really. It wasn’t as if she was bored out of her mind because she was the opposite of that. 

Going on her phone and tapping on Instagram was more of a distraction from studying if anything. She was hounded by piles of homework and pages of readings to do by the end of next week. It seemed that her brain was working in constant overdrive to try to remember the endless concepts and theories that were catapulted at her with no signs of stopping. Her eyes were straining from the constant stimulation from her laptop screen, and from trying to read the small letters plastered on the computer. 

Y/N was studying on her designated studying days, as usual. She was quite proud of sticking to the schedule, except for the few weeks that she opted to coddle herself in the confines of her warm blanket because that was around the time that she found out her boyfriend, Harry, was only using her to get close to her best friend, Louise. 

——

In retrospect, Y/N should have seen all the signs blaring right in front of her face all along. She gave herself facepalms more than she could count by the way she was—quite literally—blinded by love to realize that Harry’s feelings were nothing but a façade. That Y/N was nothing but a pawn in his game; a character to manipulate, disposable in order for him to get the woman he actually wanted. And Y/N had no doubts that her ex-boyfriend was treating Louise like a queen. 

Y/N wore red-tinted glasses while she was with Harry and she didn’t see the red flags rising every time he shaped their evening around Louise’s schedule. She thought that Harry was making such a good effort in getting to know the people close to Y/N’s life that he insisted on having Louise around whenever they hung out with her friends. 

Harry asked endless questions about Louise; from where she worked to what she was interested in—to which Y/N had foolishly answered, believing that she had found the perfect man to share her life with. But she should have known when he didn’t do the same for her other friends. Hell, he didn’t even do the same to her!

___

When Harry and Y/N were just friends, he didn’t bother getting to know her as thoroughly and comprehensively as he did with Louise. In fact, it could be argued that Harry hated Y/N when they were first introduced by—and this was ironic—Louise! 

Louise spoked highly and excitedly of ‘my friend, Y/N’ and with Harry being the loved-up simp that he was—wanted to please Louise by appearing interested in her friend. He guessed that he was probably too good of an actor (not to toot his own horn) because that meet up turned into a set-up. 

Louise had planned a date for her friends, Y/N was indifferent to it; she was even a little excited because she thought that Harry was sort of nice. Despite the fact that he was indirectly rude to her in their first meeting, Y/N didn’t hold grudges on people for their first impressions. She believed that anybody could have a bad day and that might just be the time when Harry was dragged by the arm to be introduced to her. 

Y/N understood if that was the case. She was not too keen on acting nice and friendly after a stressful day at work, or a hard study session at the library. So even if Harry was practically snarling at every word she said from his seat around the rounded booth table of the bar—she agreed to go on a first date with him. 

——

Harry was in shambles.

He got himself into quite an intricate mess trying to attain the woman of his dreams. He was such a pleaser that he was now contemplating inside his car, outside of Y/N’s address. Was this all worth it? Of course, it was. As much as Harry would like to say that this was part of his plan to make Louise his girlfriend, it really wasn’t. 

But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t use it to his advantage. 

It was a good thing that he was early—about twenty minutes or so. That was only because he was huffing the whole time Harry was buttoning the clutches of his dress shirt, shaking his head at the bathroom mirror and reprimanding himself for letting his lovesickness to get him deeper than he would like. But hey, the sooner Harry got to Y/N’s place, the sooner this ‘date’ would be over. 

So here he was, hidden in the shadows of the night sky and shielded by the heavy tint of his Range Rover. Palms were pressed on the lush leather steering wheel as Harry formulated how he could turn this around in his favour. He was already in Louise’s good books for even agreeing to this in the first place—why not make Y/N his own personal wingman?

Granted, that she didn’t actually know Harry well enough but maybe this date could reach Louise’s ears about how much of a romantic, perfect, and chivalrous gentleman Harry could be. That would surely make Louise like him, right?

Wrong. Absolutely wrong.

It was safe to say that Harry was feeling guilty the moment he decided to use Y/N in order to get to her best friend, but that ship sailed long ago when anger and frustration took over. Why in the hell was he so perfect to Y/N’s eyes that she had gushed about him to her best friend minutes after he had dropped her off?

Why did Harry have to knock on her door with a single-stemmed rose clutched in his fingers, doing a little bow to add humour when she opened the door? And what in God’s name possessed him to say that she looked beautiful that night in her pretty, deep green dress that he thought was absolutely gorgeous on her—but his heart was with another woman—fully knowing that it would look better on Louise?

“Why. . . just why,” Harry asked himself as he sat at a table with Y/N, Louise and her boyfriend, Dylan. 

That was what being romantic got him. That was where declaring Y/N as his unofficial wingman ended him upon. A double date with the woman he wanted with Y/N looking at him as if they’ve been together for years, when in fact, they had only known each other for a few weeks. 

Harry’s pride was too big to admit that this time; he couldn’t get the girl. And so, his bruised ego declared that this date was just another unplanned situation that would benefit him—somehow, someway—in the future. 

Wrong again. 

Because a month later,  Y/N was running off to her lecture with a bag strapped over her shoulder, leaving Harry a passionate kiss on the lips. He was quite ashamed to say that he enjoyed the affection, but not enough to ignore the throbbing of his heart

Harry wasn’t all in with his relationship with Y/N and he knew exactly why. For months, he had been pining for Louise and well, he ended up with her best friend, Y/N. Now that was just super unlucky for him. And he wasn’t usually a mean person, but Harry was very annoyed with fate (or destiny) for leaving with an ultimatum. 

First, leaving Y/N risking her tattling to Louise about him breaking her heart was a no-no. Second, staying with Y/N until she realizes that both of them were no good together. The latter was a much more pleasant choice, except the fact that it could take months for Y/N to acknowledge that she and Harry were both too different for each other. 

—— 

It was another four months later when Harry drew upon an epiphany very similar yet completely different from the ultimatum he had presided. 

Y/N was sure of her feelings more than ever, even dropping the ‘L’ word during a drunken stupor of wine and bubbly champagne. Harry was sure that she hadn’t remembered her confession the next morning because she never brought it up. However, those words that escaped her lips were enough for Harry to overthink each night one or the other slept over. 

Sometimes Y/N’s snores would serve as background noise to his serene imagination, wondering why the images of Louise and him doing couple-y stuff were now replaced with Y/N’s figure instead. 

He also pondered if his memory was so impeccable that he could hear Y/N’s laugh fluttering in his ears while she was sound asleep beside him or was it just because she released a chuckle every time he made a horrible joke?

(It was true. Y/N never left Harry hanging in the air with a questionable punchline of a head-scratching joke. Both of them knew that her giggles were pity laughs. Harry was thankful for it and Y/N just couldn’t resist painting a genuine smile on Harry’s face, looking so proud that he had made her laugh.) 

Harry was certain that his feelings for Y/N wouldn’t quite reach the threshold that he held her for now. But it seemed that he was getting a lot of his sworn predictions wrong lately. Sure, their first encounter (and the second, and the third. . .) were purely for satisfaction’s sake. A mere plot for Harry to build his boyfriend resumé for Louise. 

Harry wasn’t sure when his feelings shifted from civil and friendly to an ever-evoking, lovesick puppy. 

Maybe it was the way Y/N walked, straight into his heart and stole it, keeping it safe in her tender hands when she pressed a lingering kiss on his lip while she ran off to catch the bus. The way Harry would pout when Y/N forgot the routine she had set, resulting in him whining her name and sometimes chasing after her to get his much-needed kiss. He even started calling it his ‘good-luck charm’ because it seemed like without it; Harry came home more drained and tired than usual because nothing went right that day. 

Or maybe it was the way she giggled while reading something on her phone, laptop, or a book—even if it was for school purposes. How absolutely pleased he was to hear her melody of giggles, straining his ear to listen more closely and wanting to do nothing more than to hear it again because it was music to Harry. It usually ends with Y/N’s heaving breaths, begging him to stop tickling her. 

Was it because she was the most adorable little thing while she was asleep? No, it couldn’t be, Harry thought, even though the admiration in his eyes cannot be described as anything other than glazed over with love and affection with the way he stared at Y/N’s sleeping face. 

But why can’t he stop thinking about her when she wasn’t around? Harry felt like he was missing a part of himself as soon as he shut the door to his house because Y/N had to go to her own place. 

Why did a smile splinter his lips visualizing Y/N studying at her kitchen table with a topknot wobbling on her head and a pair of her thick-rimmed glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose? Harry still remembers the first time she asked him to redo the bun on her head, complaining that it was loosening and that she couldn’t focus when strands were haywire. 

Harry made sure to be extra careful as to not accidentally pull on her scalp, stretching the hairband around his fingers. 

Now, he only had a minute experience in hair styling, reminiscing to his long-haired days were he slipped his hair into a neat ball in a few seconds or less. But this was Y/N, his girlfriend, who had an adorable pout on her face. The finch between her brows deepening when she tried to understand the concepts written on the screen yet she would giggle when Harry would ask her, ‘Am I hurting you?’ and shake her head ‘no’. 

——-

So it was a bit questionable when Harry jumped at the chance to kiss Louise when the time came. 

She had just broken up with her boyfriend and called Y/N for comfort. However, Y/N was about to leave for an exam worth half of her grade and she couldn’t just not attend it. She may love her best friend with all of her heart, but not enough to waste thousands of dollars to redo a course because she missed the final exam. 

Hence, why Harry was sent in place of Y/N instead. And that was also how his plump lips managed to lock itself with Louise’s’ glossy ones. He should’ve felt guilt stab him right away when he tasted wet, salty tears on his tongue when he battled for dominance with Louise. 

Harry should have pulled away when his phone buzzed in his pocket; a message from girlfriend that she had just finished her exam and was ready to be picked up now so that she could give love and comfort to her best friend. 

Harry’s subconscious must have reminded him that this was the woman whom he had spent months pining on; desperately trying to make her his yet failing. And now that he had the chance to, he couldn’t stop. 

Instead of doing everything his conscience had practically yelled at him to do, Harry’s brain had buffered—his body numbed every nerve except the ones controlling his mouth because their persisting kiss was captured by a photographer hidden amongst barricades that Harry had failed to take notice of. 

Harry was sure that his presence was hidden to the best of his abilities, but he guessed that Louise’s hands had pulled his hoodie off in the midst of their make-out session, revealing his side profile and the unruly curls on his head. 

And that was how Y/N identified the image on her phone the time she felt her heart being ripped out and crushed into pieces. That, and the fact that Harry wore the same clothes she had seen him in before she left. 

____ 

And now, as Y/N paused her thumb from scrolling away from the image on her screen, the same pain and heartbreak still throbbed in her chest. 

She couldn’t seem to forget, as a lot of people say, what Harry did to her. Despite the fact that he was spotted outside her door, leaving boxed gifts of chocolate and flower bouquets a few minutes ago—Y/N simply didn’t have the capacity to sweep everything under the rug. 

The wound was still fresh—feeling air was enough to have her hissing, aiming to cover the cut in fear that it would become too painful to even ignore. For weeks, Y/N had to wallow in agonizing self-pity to remind herself that Harry didn’t deserve her or her love for him and now she was somehow ready to run back into his arms? 

She absolutely despised the way her hands twitched to send him a text. To leave him a voicemail or to simply tap his contact just to hear him speak to her again. Y/N was ashamed to admit that he thought about knocking on his front door just for another chance at seeing him again. An opportunity to ask him if he was happier with her (ex) best-friend—if Harry loved Louise more than he did with her. Or—and most of all—if Harry ever did love Y/N during their short relationship. Was everything just a game to him? 

She was doing good so far; she was strong enough to withhold from the urges of communicating with an ex. However, Y/N knew it was only a matter of time before Harry took extreme measures to speak to her, unlocking her door with the spare key she had given him. One day she would be met with his figure in the hallway with a sad smile on his face and three long-stemmed sunflowers in his hand and Y/N wouldn’t be able to resist him. 

Y/N hated herself for being so weak whenever Harry was involved. He was her Kryptonite; getting too close to him was what ripped her to shreds. 

___

Let me know what you thought!

____

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[someonestolemyshoes]

The Keeper’s Introduction

Here is my fic for @levihan-drabbles Fluff Friday! 

Prompt: "I know I just broke into your apartment in the middle of the night but there are some bad people after my special power over alternate universes and I've decided to put all my faith on you to save everything."

They looked oddly at home, expertly navigating his kitchen. As though they had been there before. They grabbed the honeypot from another cupboard, and found a spoon in one of the drawers.

"Oi," Levi said. "How'd you know where I keep all my shit?"

The stranger waved their hand flippantly, "Oh, I'm well acquainted with your layout. It never really changes, wherever you are."

**

Levi had just settled in for the night when a loud echoing crack sounded in the street below.

It was well past midnight, far too late for such a racket. The sudden violence of it was almost enough to make him spill his tea. He waited with his breath held, his heart shamefully hammering in his chest. Levi prided himself on being the type who doesn't scare so easily—but one can't be blamed for being alarmed by an unexpected noise in the dead of night, can they?

The world remained mercifully still and quiet. Levi approached the open window slowly (carefully, not frightfully; there is no indignity in being cautious) and peered out into the night. The sky outside was almost full dark, saved from the pressing black by only a smattering of stars and the moon, a papery sliver of a thing hooked high over the distant rooftops. The window, open only an inch, gave entry to a gentle breeze, still balmy despite the lateness of the hour. The town was drowsy, dozing; only the occasional candle flickered in the darkness, and no sound, prior to or following the thunderous clap, could be heard.

The street, three stories below, was empty. Levi scanned the road, but found nothing unusual. The strangest thing, perhaps, was that his face was the only one peering out. None of his neighbours had deemed the explosion worth investigating.

It was, for all the world, a night as perfectly normal as any other. Levi had seen no reason to expect anything out of the ordinary might occur.

He blew out a breath. Maybe he had imagined it. He had been quite engrossed in his novel, and it was well past time for him to be sleeping. It isn't unreasonable to assume that the sound of a cat, perhaps, rattling the bins in the alley had startled his tired, occupied mind. Resolving to finish his chapter and go straight to bed, Levi gave the street one last cursory glance, and turned away from the window.

He had just settled back into his chair and picked up his tea cup and his book, when the doorbell rang.

The chime in itself was yet another oddity, for Levi received visitors only very rarely, and never at an hour so late as this.

He set down his drink and lowered the book to his lap with a frown. Better, he thought, not to answer straight away. Then they might leave without causing him any trouble—and if they rang a second time, and even a third, Levi would suppose it might be something urgent and might finally be pressed to receive his unwanted guest.

Much to his pleasure, the bell did not sound a second time. Levi waited, poised to stand, but minutes passed by with no sound at all, and eventually, mildly disgruntled now by the persistent interruptions, he settled back and tried, once again, to read.

He turned the page. Picked up his now lukewarm tea, and took a sip. Sunk down more comfortably into the plush armchair. He felt himself begin to settle. The peculiarities of the night drifted from his thoughts as he read, mind too engaged with the story in his hands to think too deeply over the strange events that had occurred.

And then, without any warning at all, a godawful shriek rent the air as Levi's window was wrenched open from the outside, the wood frame protesting with a violent screech. Levi jerked in his seat, book falling from his hands and his tea cup shattering as it struck the stone floor.

There was a person, making no efforts at all to be quiet, unashamedly clambering in through his window. Levi watched, too shocked to move, while they pulled themself over the sill and crumpled in a heap to the floor.

Levi could do nothing but stare as the intruder heaved themself up. They unfurled long limbs, straightening to their full height, and turned quickly to poke their head out of the open window. They looked left, then right, down, and most peculiarly, up, before pulling themself back inside and slamming the window closed. They drew the curtains shut, and turned to look into the room, casting their eyes about the place as though inspecting it.

They walked with a relaxed gate, seemingly unbothered by their rude intrusion. Levi couldn't be sure if they had noticed his presence, for they made no show of knowing he was even there, and Levi was still too stunned to announce it. He watched the stranger rotate in a slow circle, looking everywhere from the ceiling down to the floor. Satisfied, they slapped their hands to their hips and nodded once, and then their gaze fell on Levi, still sitting stiff as a board in his chair. The light from Levi's lamp cast half their face in shadow, glinting off the lenses of their glasses. Their mouth stretched in a wide, manic grin.

Levi swallowed hard. His courage returned to him swiftly, urging him to his feet. He faced the stranger head on with his face twisted in a scowl.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The intruder's grin only widened.

"Oh, Mike was right after all!"

They crossed to him quickly in two great strides. Levi twisted his head this way and that to watch them as they circled him. This close, Levi could better see the sharp hook of their nose, the angle of their jaw and the whiskey colour of their eyes, with strange, dark markings around their irises, like the face of a clock. He could also see the fingerprint smudges on their lenses. They wore all black, from their muddy boots up to the overlarge hood draped over their shoulders like a small cloak.

"Shitty four-eyes, answer me."

They let out a gleeful laugh.

"Oh, Mike my friend, you are a genius!" They said. And then, to Levi, they added, "Mike can sniff out you Guardians half a universe away, I swear."

Levi had no idea who Mike was, or what a Guardian was, and frankly, he didn't care. He levelled his home invader with a sharp glare. When he spoke again, it was through gritted teeth. "I said, what the hell are you doing climbing through my window? How? I’m three stories up!"

The stranger's smile finally faltered. They tilted their head. "I did try the doorbell."

"Why did you want to be in my house?"  

"Ah, well, you see—that's kind of a long story." They turned on their heel and strode into the kitchenette. Levi watched on, incredulous, as they filled his kettle with water and set it on the stove to boil. With one hand, they reached into the cupboard above the sink and rifled through the boxes until they found Levi's stash of chamomile tea, and with the other they reached for the draining board, and plucked up two clean cups by their handles. All of this, while they watched the water begin to simmer in the pot.

They looked oddly at home expertly navigating his kitchen. As though they had been there before. They grabbed the honeypot from another cupboard, and found a spoon in one of the drawers.

"Oi," Levi said. "How'd you know where I keep all my shit?"

The stranger waved their hand flippantly, "Oh, I'm well acquainted with your layout. It never really changes, wherever you are."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean, shitty glasses?" Levi tried to inject an air of disinterested anger into his tone, but the stranger’s words, said so plainly, raised goosebumps on his skin.

They chuckled. "I can't tell you how many times we've had this conversation. I'm Hange, by the way."

Hange brought the tea over to where Levi stood, and held one cup out for Levi to take. He clenched his fists by his sides instead. The tea, upsettingly, smelled perfect; brewed at the right temperature, for the right time, and sweetened with just a drop of honey. When he didn't take the cup, Hange shrugged and set it on the little table by the armchair. They spied the broken china on the floor and smirked, "you never have much luck with that one."

"Excuse me?"

"That cup. It's the one with the gold rim, right? And all the little forget-me-nots around the outside?"

Levi said nothing. Hange, irritatingly and unexplainably, for the cup was in many pieces now and the lighting was too poor to see it in any great detail, was absolutely right.

"You still haven't answered my question," he said.

"Right, right. Like I said, it's a long story. Do you want the unabridged version or are you happy with the footnotes?"

"A summary is fine."

Hange took a great slurp of their tea. "Long story short, I pissed off some very bad people, and now they are after me for my, ah—abilities."

"But why my house?"

"Mike told me where you'd be. And boy, am I glad he did! I barely made it in time. I was aiming to land right in your sitting room, but I guess my calculations were a little off…" they trailed away with a frown. Levi watched their lips work quickly, as though they were running numbers in their head. Then they stopped, and shook themselves off. "Doesn't matter now anyway. I didn't wake you, did I? World hopping can be pretty loud."  

That, at least, accounted for the sound Levi had heard outside. But...

"Hange," Levi said. "You've explained nothing."

"Give me a minute, Levi. It's complicated! There's a lot of history and I already know you don't want to hear any of it. Besides, we wouldn't have the time. We'll have to leave early in the morning."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Sure you are," Hange said. "I have to meet up with Erwin, and I need you to get me there."

"Where's there? Who the hell is Erwin?"

Again, Hange waved their hand at him. "Unimportant. Look, what matters is this: I might've messed with the timeline in another universe, and that may have caused some….upset, with some very important and very powerful people. I only changed a little bit!! I met this guy, Onyankopon—he's so cool, you know? Smart as hell. He had this idea that—well, it was the base model for an airplane."

"A what?"

"Well, see, that's the thing. Onyankopon asked the same question, and I just...told him. A little bit. I went a little too deep into the mechanics of it all, and he...well he might have developed a model that works. Two hundred years before it was supposed to exist in his universe. And now the Bureau is looking for me, but I’m not done with Erwin’s mission yet and so I am putting all my eggs in your basket. I need you to get me out of this in one piece.”

Hange looked more sheepish about this insane indiscretion than they had about breaking and entering.

"You're fucking insane," he said. Hange let out a bright laugh.

"So you've told me, more times than I can count."

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He felt a headache coming on.

"You look stressed," Hange said, sounding almost sympathetic. "Drink the tea! It'll help, though it's probably a little cold by now."

"You're the reason I'm stressed, idiot."

"Sorry about that," they said, not sounding very sorry at all. "I know the circumstances aren't...ideal. I'd much rather have come to you another time and explained everything properly, but—well, I was kind of in a hurry, and Mike sniffed you out, said you were the nearest you to my location. I didn't have much of a choice."

"Who the hell is Mike? Some kind of mutt?"

"Sort of," Hange said with a grin. "He's a Seeker. It's his job to locate people like you—people like us—when the Bureau needs us. Fortunately for me, Mike isn't overly loyal to our dear overseers—his allegiance lies with Erwin, as does mine. And Erwin is decidedly less strict about most of the timelines."

Hange circled around Levi and set their hands on his shoulders. Something strange sparked there, a heat that sunk through skin and muscle and settled right in his bones. They had already ushered him into his chair by the time he shrugged them off.

"What does any of this batshit garbage you're spewing have to do with me?"

"You are a Guardian. It's your role to protect people like me from harm."

"The hell does that mean, people like you? I’m not fighting anyone to save your scrawny ass from anything. You fucked up, you deal with it. "

Hange stood up straight and puffed out their chest. "I am a Keeper. I'm supposed to keep order in the timelines. According to the Bureau, at least. Erwin has other ideas—but that's a story for another time. For now, we should rest. Like I said, we've got to leave early in the morning."

"To go where?"

"To Erwin!" Hange said brightly. "I don't have my pocket watch anymore, so we're gonna have to take the traditional route. There's no way I'll make it on my own. And don’t worry, you won’t have to fight anyone. I’ll explain it all on the journey."

"Look,” Levi said. “Can't you just...drop out of the sky whenever this Erwin guy is? I'm sure he's got his own window you can climb through."

"No can do," Hange said. "I can only hop between universes. I need my watch to move fast within any one universe, and mine took a dunk in a river, during my escape."

"Magic bullshit technology that lets you, what, teleport across the damn globe? And it can't survive a dip in a river?"

"They aren't watertight," Hange said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And they still run on batteries. Moblit is working on improving the technology."

Levi's head throbbed. He rubbed his eyes and glowered up at Hange, who was watching him with a soft smile. Levi deepened his scowl.  

"What's that shitty face for?"

Hange's expression softened further. They looked at him with so much fondness, Levi felt his face grow warm.

"I've missed you, you know," they said. "Well, not you, but—you. It's been...a really long time."

"That makes no sense," Levi said. He meant it, too—nothing Hange had said to him made sense at all. It was the stuff of storybooks, fairy tales; the product of an imagination run wild. And yet, Hange's presence, alarming as it had been and frankly still was, felt oddly familiar. The warmth of their hands still rested on his shoulders. In spite of himself, Levi felt the corner of his lip begin to curl into a small, absent smile. He wrestled it back down.

Hange laughed, a light, lilting thing, and yawned. They crossed the room to Levi's small dining table and dropped heavily into a chair.

"I suppose you're right," they said with a lazy grin. "It doesn't make any sense at all. You'll just have to trust me."

"You broke into my house. You're not selling your reliability very well. And don't even think about it."

Hange looked over at him, surprised. "Think about what?"

"Putting your filthy feet on my damn table."

"Whatever gave you the idea I'd do something like that?"

Levi opened his mouth to answer, but snapped it closed swiftly as the thought, which had come to him thoroughly unbidden, fully registered in his mind. You do it all the time.

Levi pinched his eyes, staring at Hange. They sat with a curious little tilt of their head, watching him with an open, analytical look. Levi squirmed under their gaze.

"I don't know," he said. "Seems like the kind of shit you'd do."

"Like something I've done before?"

Levi flinched, and Hange smiled all teeth at him, a strange mix of impish and pleased. They propped their elbow on the table and rested their chin on their palm. "There it is," they said quietly.

"What?" Levi asked. Too eager. Hange looked thrilled as they straightened up in their chair, eyes gleaming in the lamplight.

"There are a lot of you's, one in every single universe, just like there are a lot of Isabel's, and Farlan's, and Petra's—"

"How do you—you know what, nevermind. Go on."

"But because you're a Guardian, all your you's are linked. And because you're my Guardian," Hange looked weirdly proud at this pronouncement, "it's only natural that you remember me. It'll happen a lot, I'm sure. Try not to freak out."

Levi snorted. "You say that now?"

"Would it have made a difference if I said it earlier?"

Levi mulled that over for a second. No, he supposed it wouldn’t. He’d have thought them completely unhinged either way. Instead of answering, he picked up the tea from the table and drained it in three gulps. When he looked back at Hange, they were smiling brightly at him.

"Just how you like it, right?"

"I prefer it hot."

Hange kicked their heels against the floor and shot him an affronted look. With a petulant pout of their lip, they said, " So unfair, Levi! That's not my fault."

He shrugged them off. He would never admit it to them, but he took some bizarre delight in watching Hange's tantrum. It felt all too natural. They slumped back in their chair, head tipped over the back rest to stare at the ceiling.

"Ah, you're as cruel as ever," they said. "It's good. Very you."

Hange pushed their glasses up to their forehead and rubbed at their eyes. The scene looked painfully familiar; Hange, smiling sleepily, bleary eyed in the low blush of candlelight. Only, in the image forming in his mind, they were resting against a plump, well-fluffed pillow, and their hair was down from its ponytail, still messy and falling over their face. In the image forming in his mind, Levi's own hand reached out to brush a few strands from their cheeks, and Hange turned into his palm, their lips brushing the sensitive skin there.

Levi shook his head, face a little warm. Hange was watching him again. He scowled at them for good measure, gathering up his own cup and theirs, and washing them in the sink. He let the water run cool over his hands for a long moment.

"You should rest, if you're tired," he said. From the table, Hange hummed.

"Good idea," they said. "The bed's big enough for two, right?"

Levi turned sharply to refute them, but Hange didn't give him the chance. They had already heaved themself up out of their chair and kicked off their boots, and now, with the practiced ease of someone who had lived in the house for years, they were wandering down the hall and straight into Levi's bedroom, leaving the door open behind them.

Levi dried his hands slowly on the dish towel. He looked at the armchair, big and well-cushioned, spacious enough for him to recline in for a few hours rest. It wouldn't be the first time, and he had no doubt it would be the last. And then he looked down the hallway, where Hange must have lit the lamp; warm light spilled out into the corridor, and Levi was reminded abruptly of his strange thoughts.

This Hange, they were crazy. Talking the most nonsense Levi had ever heard come straight from another person's mouth. He would be better off resting his eyes in his chair, and kicking Hange out at first light.

That was the logical thing to do. The reasonable thing. That was the desperate plea of his better judgement.

Instead, he blew out his lamp, and stormed down the hallway after them.  

"You lie on my fresh sheets in your filthy clothes and I'm throwing you back out the window, Guardian or not."