#this is not a hate-post I'm just feeling stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wannabehockeygf · 16 hours

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hurt my feelings - elias petersson

part of the think later fic series

"She wears your number, but I got what you like, She's got you right now, but I'm still on your mind, I should've known better, You should've known better than me."

*** request: "I was wondering if you would be able to do an Elias Pettersson one? If not that’s fine, but if you do I would LOVE hurt my feelings with elias where he is in an open relationship and sleeping with the main character, but she’s in love with him yadayadayada. If you could do angst with a happy ending that would be great. Thank youuuu" summary: a more-than-stupid hookup has you feeling more than you thought it would. word count: 6k pairing: elias petersson x fem!reader warnings: nothing really, post-sex stuff? notes: - hi requester ty for waiting for so long for this. it's been in the making. - first petey fic! - not really proof read. - also the fact tate wrote this about a hockey player... cole sillinger u will always have fumbled. ***

Elias lifts his hips, pulling up a pair of sweatpants you’ve never seen in any picture of him, or anywhere else but when he’s with you. Which, admittedly, means you’re either in his car, at your dingy studio in Coal Harbour, or some other obscure spot for a quick fuck, just for him to leave right after.

You don’t want to feel this way. But the heart wants what it wants, and you want him.

Problem is, you can’t have him.

You watch him adjust his sweatpants, the fabric clinging to his hips, and feel the familiar ache in your chest, one you desperately try to ignore. His skin gleams under the dim light of the car’s dashboard, and the air inside is still thick with the heat of what you’ve just done, your clothes scattered near the passenger seat. But the warmth between you faded as soon as he reached for those pants.

The reality of it all starts to settle in, creeping up on you as you sit there, still trying to catch your breath. Your body’s exhausted, but your mind? It’s racing, swirling with all the things you don’t want to admit, not to yourself, and definitely not to him.

Elias, with his perfect nonchalance, runs a hand over the top of his head, his eyes scanning the fogged-up windows. His fingers drum against the steering wheel like it’s just another night, just another routine. And that’s what you hate the most—that it’s all so easy for him. He always makes it feel like it means nothing. Meanwhile, your heart is screaming at you to stop pretending it doesn’t.

“You want me to take you home?” His voice breaks the silence, casual, like he hadn’t just been inside you, like the intimate moments you share have no lasting weight.

You glance at him, a knot tightening in your stomach. The suggestion feels so transactional, like a one-way ticket out of his life until the next time he feels like doing this again. And you hate that you want the next time so badly.

“No,” you mutter, though your voice betrays you, shaky and unsure.

His brow lifts, a flicker of surprise, though he quickly masks it with that cool indifference. “No? You wanna stay here, or what?”

You hate how his tone makes it seem like you’re the one being unreasonable. You shift, pulling the hem of your shirt down to cover yourself, fighting the creeping embarrassment that always comes in these moments. “I just—” you hesitate, searching for words that won’t make you sound pathetic, needy. “I’m not some, like… some pit stop for you to get off and leave, Elias.”

He turns to you fully now, eyes narrowing slightly, the laid-back air around him thickening into something heavier. “What are you talking about? You knew what this was.”

Of course, you knew. You told yourself that over and over again, every time you ended up tangled in his sheets or here in his car. But knowing doesn’t make it hurt any less. “Yeah, I did,” you snap, the words sharper than you intended. “But I didn’t think it’d feel like this.”

“Like what?” His voice is calm, too calm, like he can’t understand why you’re spiraling.

You bite the inside of your cheek, the bitterness rising. You weren’t supposed to feel anything for him, right? That was the whole point. “Like I’m some backup plan until you’re bored again.” The confession hangs in the air between you, thick and unwelcome.

He exhales slowly, turning his gaze away, staring through the windshield into nothing. For a moment, it seems like he might say something to comfort you, to give you some semblance of reassurance. But instead, all you get is a quiet, “I never promised you anything.”

And there it is—his honesty, cutting deeper than you’d expected. You should respect him for it, for being upfront, but all it does is twist the knife in your chest. “I know you didn’t,” you whisper, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “But it still sucks.”

The car falls silent again, save for the hum of the engine, and for a moment, you wish you could just crawl out of your own skin and leave the feelings behind. Maybe then you wouldn’t care about how Elias is already emotionally checked out, like this was just another night, another body. Your body, for now, but never your heart. That wasn’t part of the deal. Yet here you are, feelings clawing their way to the surface no matter how hard you try to shove them down.

“Look, if you don’t wanna do this anymore, just say it.” His voice cuts through the silence, casual as ever, but this time it has a slight edge to it. Like you’re the one being unreasonable for having, god forbid, feelings. “I told you from the start, I’m not looking for anything serious.” He shifts in his seat, pulling his hoodie down over his chest like he’s already ready to move on with his night. “I thought you were cool with that.”

You feel the words hit like a punch to the gut, the weight of them sitting heavy in your stomach. Cool with that? You’re supposed to be cool with feeling like nothing more than a convenience? Like your body is something he can dip into whenever he feels like it and then discard just as quickly? You swallow hard, trying to push back the anger that’s rising, though your hands are already trembling in your lap.

“Yeah, well,” you start, your voice barely steady as you speak, “I thought I was too.” You pause, searching for the right words, but they won’t come. How can you explain something you don’t even fully understand? “But it doesn’t mean I want to feel like… like this.”

Elias shifts again, turning toward you, his brow furrowing in confusion. His fingers drum lightly on the steering wheel, the casual rhythm so at odds with the tension building in the air between you. “Like what? You’re acting like I’m doing something wrong.” His tone is laced with mild frustration, as if he genuinely can’t grasp why you’re spiraling. And maybe that’s what makes it worse—the fact that he doesn’t get it.

You look away, staring at the streaks of condensation on the window as your vision blurs with unshed tears. “Like I’m just a body to you,” you whisper, voice cracking. “Like you only want me when it’s convenient.” The vulnerability in your words makes your skin crawl, and you hate how pathetic you feel, but it’s too late to take it back now.

Elias lets out a long sigh, rubbing his hand over his face like you’re exhausting him. “I’m not trying to make you feel like shit,” he says, his tone softening, but the detachment is still there. “I told you from the beginning, I’m not gonna settle down. This is just… fun. You knew that.”

You know he’s trying to be reasonable, but it doesn’t matter. The words feel like salt in a wound, deepening the hurt that you’re so desperate to hide. Fun. That’s all it is to him. You clench your fists in your lap, nails digging into your palms, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I’m not asking you to settle down with me, Elias. I’m not fucking delusional,” you say, your voice rising despite your best efforts to stay calm. “But I’m not some fucking plaything either.”

His head snaps toward you, eyes narrowing. “Jesus, you’re blowing this way out of proportion,” he says, his voice sharper now. “It’s not that deep. You’re making this into something it’s not.”

The dismissiveness in his tone makes your blood boil. You can feel the heat rising in your chest, a flush creeping up your neck as the anger takes hold. “Not that deep?” You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “God, you really don’t get it, do you?” You turn to face him, your eyes burning as you meet his gaze. “I’m not asking you for some fairytale relationship, but fuck, Elias, I deserve more than being your afterthought.”

He stares at you, expression hardening as your words hit. His jaw clenches slightly, the tension visible in the way his hands grip the steering wheel. “Again, you knew what this was,” he repeats, his voice low, controlled. “If you’re catching feelings, that’s on you. I didn’t ask for that.”

The coldness of his words stings, each one hitting like a slap. And you hate it—the fact that he’s right, that you’re the one who let your heart get involved in something that was never meant to go beyond the physical. But knowing that doesn’t make it hurt any less. “You don’t think I know that?” you shoot back, your voice shaking with anger. “I didn’t ask for it either. I didn’t want this. But it’s happening, and it fucking sucks.”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You’re being ridiculous,” he mutters under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “We agreed this was just sex. Nothing more.”

Ridiculous. The word echoes in your mind, bouncing around like a cruel reminder of how you’ve let yourself get here, feeling something for someone who can’t even give you an ounce of what you need. Your hands tremble, and you quickly shove them under your thighs, trying to keep yourself from completely falling apart in front of him.

“Yeah, well, I guess I’m ridiculous then,” you spit, the bitterness in your voice seeping into every word. You feel the tears threatening to spill over, but you blink them back, refusing to let him see just how much this is hurting you. “But I’m done with this. I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t bother me.”

Elias looks at you, his jaw tight, his eyes flickering with something you can’t quite read—anger? Frustration? Indifference? You can’t tell anymore. “Whatever. I’m taking you home.” ***

You sit on the edge of your bed, legs crossed, the dim light of your laptop casting a pale glow across the room. Your phone rests beside you, silent, no new notifications lighting up the screen. You've been staring at it for what feels like hours, waiting for something—anything—to distract you from the gnawing emptiness settling in your chest. But, of course, nothing comes.

With a frustrated sigh, you grab your phone, thumb hovering over Instagram, knowing full well what you're about to do to yourself. You shouldn't, you know that, but the temptation is too strong. Against your better judgment, you open the app and type her name into the search bar. Her profile pops up almost immediately. There she is—her.

Elias’ girlfriend.

You click on her latest post, a snapshot of her at Rogers Arena, grinning ear to ear, wearing his jersey like it’s a crown, her hands raised above her head in mock celebration. #CanucksWin, the caption reads, followed by a string of blue and green heart emojis. She looks so… happy, like she belongs there, like she’s the one who has his heart, his attention. And maybe she is.

Your chest tightens as you scroll through her feed. Picture after picture of her and Elias at games, on vacations, laughing together, looking every bit the perfect couple. There’s one of them at the beach—Elias, shirtless and grinning, his arm slung casually over her shoulders, while she looks up at him like he’s the only person in the world. That smile, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners... You know that smile. You've seen it before, but not like this. Not in a way that made you feel like you’d been given something special, something real.

No, with you, it’s different. It’s fleeting, temporary. You’re just a body to him, a release when he needs it. Nothing more.

You hate it. Hate how she looks so comfortable in his world, while you're stuck on the outside, desperately clawing at the edges, trying to convince yourself that you don’t want what she has. But you do. God, you do.

You toss your phone onto the bed, resisting the urge to scream. The jealousy burns in your throat, hot and bitter, swirling with a cocktail of self-loathing and frustration. You shouldn’t care. This wasn’t supposed to matter. But here you are, scrolling through his girlfriend’s Instagram, tearing yourself apart because she has what you can’t.

The thought of her being with him—touching him, laughing with him, wearing the #40 like it was hers—makes your skin crawl. And the worst part? You can’t stop thinking about it. You can’t stop thinking about her. About how she gets to have the part of him you’ll never touch. His heart. The part that matters.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, your fingers are already moving, dialing Elias’ number. It rings once, twice, and then you hear his voice on the other end, casual, indifferent.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low, like he’s not surprised at all to hear from you.

Your heart thuds against your ribs, the jealousy bubbling up into your throat. You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “You busy?”

There’s a pause, and you can hear the faint sound of music in the background, a soft murmur of voices. “Yeah, kind of. I’m with—” He doesn’t have to finish the sentence for you to know who he’s with. The words are already twisting in your chest, like a knife being driven deeper with every syllable.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to… meet up,” you say, trying to sound casual, like you’re not affected by the fact that he’s with her right now. “You know, for a quick one.”

Elias lets out a soft chuckle, the sound grating against your nerves. “I can’t tonight,” he says, his voice smooth, unbothered. “I’m with my girl.”

The way he says it—my girl—makes your stomach churn. You clench your fists in your lap, nails digging into your palms as the anger simmers just beneath the surface. “Right,” you mutter, trying to sound nonchalant, but the bitterness seeps into your voice anyway. “Of course.”

You can practically hear his smirk through the phone. “Another time,” he says, like it’s no big deal. Like this is just a game to him, and you’re a piece he can move around whenever it suits him.

“Yeah,” you force out, teeth gritting. “Sure. Another time.”

You hang up before he can say anything else, before you can hear the sound of her laugh in the background, or worse—imagine them together. The thought is enough to make your skin prickle with jealousy, the heat rising in your chest, suffocating you.

Before you know it, you're grabbing your keys, slipping on your shoes, and heading out the door. You don’t even bother to think twice. You aren’t the type to back down, not when you want something. And right now, you want Elias. You want to prove to him, to yourself, that whatever he has with her doesn’t compare to what he has with you.

By the time you arrive at his ritzy apartment in Yaletown, your heart is pounding in your chest, nerves and adrenaline mixing together in a volatile cocktail. You stare at the building for a long moment, the reality of what you’re about to do settling in. You shouldn’t be here. You know you shouldn’t be here. But the jealousy is too strong, too consuming, and all you can think about is how badly you need to see him. Need him to see you.

So, you go up the elevator. Up to whatever floor you know he’s on, the one where you can see all of Vancouver in its expensive glory, and you knock.

You stand in front of his door, knuckles still tingling from the knock, heart thundering in your chest. The hallway is eerily quiet, the only sound your own shallow breaths as you wait for him to open the door. And when it finally swings open, there he is—Elias, standing in front of you, shirtless, skin gleaming like he’s been lounging around, maybe with her. The sight of him, so casual, so at ease, only makes the knot in your stomach tighten.

His eyes widen slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice low but sharp, like he wasn’t expecting you, didn’t want you there. Behind him, you can hear the faint sound of a television, laughter that isn’t his. Her laugh.

Before you can respond, her voice floats from inside the apartment. “Eli? Who is it?”

Your heart clenches painfully, her voice piercing through the air like nails on a chalkboard. She sounds so… comfortable, like she belongs there. Like this is her place, her life, and you’re just an intruder.

Elias’ eyes flick to you, something unreadable passing over his face. He turns slightly, leaning into the doorframe as if shielding you from her view. “It’s nobody, älskling,” he calls back, his voice steady, but the dismissal hits you like a punch to the gut. Nobody. “Give me a minute.”

Your throat tightens as he steps into the hallway, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The distance between you is small, but it feels like a chasm. He doesn’t move closer. Doesn’t reach for you. He just stands there, watching you with that same indifferent look, like you’re something to be dealt with, not someone he wants to see.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His voice is low, but the edge is unmistakable. It stings. But not as much as the jealousy burning inside you, clawing its way up your throat. You swallow hard, trying to keep it together, trying not to let him see how close you are to breaking.

“I needed to see you,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. The truth of it tastes bitter on your tongue. You hate yourself for it, for how desperate you sound. For how desperate you are.

Elias sighs, rubbing his hand along his jaw, the muscles in his arm flexing as he does. You hate how your eyes follow the movement, how even now, when your heart is shattering, you still can’t stop wanting him. “You shouldn’t be here,” he mutters, glancing back at the door like he’s afraid she might overhear. “You know I’m with her tonight.”

That word—her—sends another wave of anger crashing through you, and before you can stop yourself, the words tumble out. “Yeah, I know you’re with her. I saw the Instagram posts. I saw everything.” Your voice cracks on the last word, betraying just how deep the jealousy runs, how much it hurts to see him with someone else, someone who isn’t you.

He frowns, his brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw her at the game, wearing your jersey, looking so damn happy, like she has everything,” you spit, the words tumbling out faster than you can stop them. “Like she has you. And she does, doesn’t she?”

Elias’ face hardens, his jaw clenching as he crosses his arms over his chest. “That’s because she’s my girlfriend,” he says quietly, the calmness in his voice making your stomach twist. “And you’re… not.” The words hit you like a slap in the face, knocking the air from your lungs. "You’re not." Two little words, but they’re enough to unravel the fragile composure you’ve been clinging to. Your entire body goes rigid as the weight of his indifference sinks in. It’s like being plunged into ice water—shocking, numbing, suffocating. Your lips part, but nothing comes out. What can you say? That you know you aren’t his girlfriend? That you know you don’t belong in his world, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise? That every second of this—of him—feels like borrowed time?

Your chest tightens, jealousy wrapping around your throat like a noose, squeezing until you can barely breathe. You try to swallow it down, to keep the rising panic at bay, but it’s too much. It’s all too much. The sight of him standing there, so cold, so unreachable, while just behind that door, she laughs, probably stretched out on his couch, wearing his jersey, living the life you want. The life you can never have.

Your hands tremble at your sides, and you press them into your thighs, trying to steady yourself. But your knees feel weak, like they might give out beneath you at any second. You hate this. You hate the jealousy coursing through your veins like poison, making you feel small, insignificant, pathetic. You hate how he can do this to you, how easily he can reduce you to this—a broken, jealous mess, standing in his hallway, trying not to fall apart.

“I… I don’t care,” you choke out, though the words taste like a lie. They hang between you, brittle and fragile, crumbling the second they leave your lips. Of course, you care. You care too much. That’s the problem. The jealousy claws at your chest, each breath shallow and ragged as you try to keep the dam from bursting. But it’s too late. The cracks are already there, spidering through your resolve, threatening to split wide open.

Elias just stares at you, his brow furrowed, like he doesn’t quite understand why you’re standing there in front of him, unraveling at the seams. He uncrosses his arms, his posture softening ever so slightly, but his face remains guarded. His silence only makes the jealousy gnaw harder at your insides, like it’s eating you alive from the inside out.

“Why are you with her?” you whisper, your voice trembling, barely audible over the sound of your pounding heartbeat. You hate how vulnerable you sound, hate the way your voice cracks, betraying just how much you’re hurting. But you can’t stop yourself. The words tumble out, desperate and raw, needing to understand. Needing him to say something that makes sense. “Why are you with her when… when you don’t even care about her the way you—” You cut yourself off, biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to taste blood. You can’t say it. You can’t admit it.

Elias’ gaze flicks to the floor, his expression shifting, something like guilt passing over his features. He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it, like he doesn’t know where to start. The hesitation sets your mind racing. The jealousy swirls around your thoughts, twisting every moment you’ve spent together into something ugly, something tainted. Has any of it been real? Or have you just been fooling yourself in your delusions all along? Is this really all you are to him—a temporary distraction, something to fill the empty spaces between him and her?

“I don’t know,” Elias finally mutters, his voice barely more than a sigh. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see something there, something deeper, something almost sorrowful. But then it’s gone, replaced by that familiar guarded look. “I just… I don’t know.”

The simplicity of his answer, the emptiness of it, sends a wave of frustration crashing over you, mixing with the jealousy already burning in your veins. “That’s it?” you snap, your voice rising, barely able to keep the tremor out of it. “You don’t know? You’re with her, you’ve been with her, but you don’t know why?”

You’re losing control. The words are tumbling out faster than you can stop them, your heart pounding in your chest as the jealousy consumes you, feeding off every tiny piece of doubt, every flicker of uncertainty. You hate how much you want him to give you an answer, to explain why he’s with her and not you, why you’re standing here, outside his door, while she gets to be inside, living the life you’re so desperately clawing for.

“I—” Elias starts, his voice soft, almost apologetic, but you can’t let him finish.

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” The question comes out more like an accusation, the jealousy twisting your insides, making you feel sick to your stomach. “That’s why you’re with her. Because you love her, and I’m just—” You swallow hard, the words catching in your throat. Just what? A fling? A mistake?

“I don’t—” Elias stops, running a hand across his jaw, his expression torn. He lets out a long, frustrated breath, his gaze darting back to the closed door, like he’s afraid she might hear. “It’s not like that,” he says, but his voice is quiet, hesitant, like he doesn’t quite believe it himself.

“Then what is it?” you demand, your voice shaking, barely able to keep the desperation at bay. Your hands clench into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms as you fight the urge to cry, to scream, to do something other than stand there, unraveling. “Because it sure as hell seems like she has you. She’s got the jersey, she’s got the smile, she’s got the fucking Instagram posts—and what do I have? What the hell do I have, Elias?”

He stares at you, his jaw tight, his eyes flicking between you and the door, like he’s trying to figure out what to say, but can’t. The silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating, and you feel yourself breaking, the dam inside you cracking wide open.

“You can’t even say it, can you?” you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you’ve been holding back for so long. “You can’t even admit that you don’t care about her the way you—” You stop, choking on the words, unable to say what you so desperately want to hear.

Elias lets out another sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly, and for the first time, he looks tired. Tired of this, tired of you, tired of the mess you’ve both made of whatever this is. His eyes meet yours, and there’s something there—something almost sad. But it’s not enough. It’s not nearly enough.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he finally mutters, his voice low, almost resigned.

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest as the jealousy twists and tangles inside you, tightening its grip until it feels like you’re going to burst. “I want you to say you feel something,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “Anything. Just… anything.”

But he doesn’t. He just stands there, his face blank, his silence louder than any words he could have said. And that silence—it shatters you. It breaks you into pieces so small you don’t even know if you can put yourself back together again.

“I can’t do this,” you finally choke out, the tears you’ve been holding back for so long spilling over, hot and fast, burning as they slide down your cheeks. You swipe at them angrily, hating yourself for breaking in front of him, for letting him see just how much he’s destroyed you. But there’s no stopping it now. The dam has broken, and the jealousy, the hurt, the love—it all comes rushing out in a tidal wave of emotion you can’t control.

“I can’t keep doing this,” you whisper again, your voice cracking, barely able to hold yourself together as you look up at him, your heart in pieces at his feet. “I thought I could, but I can’t. I love you, Elias. And I hate it. I fucking hate that I love you, and you can’t even—” You stop, choking on the sob that rips through you, your whole body trembling with the force of it.

Elias’ face softens, his brows drawing together in something that almost looks like regret, but it’s too late. You’re too far gone. You’re already falling apart, the jealousy and heartbreak swallowing you whole.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, his voice low, almost tender, but it only makes the pain worse. Because sorry isn’t enough. Sorry doesn’t fix anything. Sorry doesn’t make you her.

You shake your head, the tears blurring your vision, making it hard to see him. “Yeah,” you whisper, your voice hollow, broken. “Me too.”

*** The rain starts falling in steady sheets, drumming against the window as you sit curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the TV screen. The flickering images mean nothing, just background noise to the storm inside your mind. You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been sitting there, wrapped in one of Elias’ old hoodies. The fabric is worn and soft, smelling faintly like him—like cedar and soap, like something familiar and heartbreaking all at once.

You hate that you still wear it. Hate that you can’t let go, even when you know you should. Even when you know it’s over. He chose her. He made that painfully clear, standing there in that hallway, his eyes darting between you and the door where she waited for him. And yet, here you are, clinging to the last scraps of him, like they could somehow make up for everything you’ve lost.

The rain blurs against the window, much like the tears you’re too tired to shed. You feel hollow now, emptied of all the anger, the jealousy, the heartbreak that consumed you. All that’s left is a dull ache, a quiet sorrow that settles deep in your chest, heavy and unmovable.

A knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts, sharp and unexpected in the quiet of your apartment. Your heart stutters in your chest, a flicker of hope igniting even though you tell yourself not to feel it. It can’t be him. It won’t be. And yet, as you stand and pad to the door, every step feels weighted with anticipation, your fingers trembling as they curl around the handle.

You open it to find Elias standing on the other side, the beanie on his head damp from the rain, droplets clinging to his jacket. He looks like he hasn’t slept, his eyes dark and tired, his expression unreadable as he stares at you in the dim light of the hallway.

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. You just stand there, your heart pounding in your ears, waiting for him to speak, to say something that would make sense of all this. But he doesn’t. He just looks at you, like he’s seeing you for the first time, like the weight of his silence might crush you both.

“Can I come in?” he asks finally, his voice low, hesitant, as if he’s afraid of your answer.

You should say no. You should slam the door in his face, walk away, leave him standing there in the rain. But you don’t. Instead, you step aside, the words caught in your throat, and let him in.

He moves past you, his presence filling the small space with a tension you can feel in your bones. He stops in the middle of the room, glancing around like he’s searching for something, maybe the right words, maybe some kind of explanation. But all you can do is stand there, your hands gripping the hem of your hoodie, his hoodie, trying to steady yourself.

“I broke it off with her,” Elias says quietly, his back still to you, the words hanging in the air like they might shatter the second they leave his mouth.

You blink, your mind struggling to catch up with what he’s said. The rain beats harder against the window, filling the silence between you, a reminder of the storm both outside and within.

“What?” Your voice sounds foreign, small, like it isn’t even your own.

Elias turns slowly, his eyes meeting yours, and you see it then—the sorrow, the regret, the weight of everything that’s passed between you. He takes a step toward you, his movements cautious, like he’s not sure if you’ll let him get any closer.

“I broke it off with her,” he repeats, more firmly this time, his gaze steady, unwavering. “I know there was an agreement, but itt wasn’t fair to her. It wasn’t fair to you. I should’ve done it sooner, but… I was scared.”

Scared. That word echoes in your mind, bouncing off the walls of the tiny apartment, wrapping around you like a vise. What did he have to be scared of? He’s the one who had control, who made you feel like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for him to decide if you were worth saving.

“You hurt me,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, the rawness of the admission surprising even you.

“I know.” Elias steps closer, his hands slipping into his pockets, his posture uncertain, like he’s not sure what to do with himself. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The apology should feel like relief. It should feel like something breaking free inside of you, but instead, it only makes the ache in your chest grow heavier. “You can’t just… say sorry and think it fixes everything,” you murmur, turning away from him, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Elias doesn’t respond right away. The weight of his silence feels almost unbearable, pressing down on you like gravity. Then, after what feels like an eternity, you hear him take a deep breath, his footsteps soft on the floor as he moves closer.

“I know I can’t fix it,” he says quietly, his voice so soft it’s almost lost beneath the sound of the rain. “But I don’t want to lose you.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind from your lungs. You turn slowly, meeting his gaze, searching for any hint of the indifference you’d seen before. But it’s not there. Not now. Now, his eyes are filled with something else, something raw and honest, something that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“I love you.” The words spill from his lips, quiet but sure, like he’s been holding them back for too long. “I love you, and I’m sorry it took me this long to realize it. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Your chest tightens, a rush of emotions surging through you so fast you can barely process them. You want to believe him. You want to fall into his arms and let those words heal all the wounds he’s left behind. But the scars are still there, fresh and painful, a reminder of everything that came before.

“I don’t… I don’t know if I can do this,” you whisper, your voice trembling as the tears you held back earlier threaten to return.

Elias closes the distance between you in two quick steps, his hands reaching for yours. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver through you, the familiarity of it both comforting and heartbreaking all at once.

“Please,” he murmurs, his voice low, desperate. “I’m not asking for everything. I just… I need you to know how much you mean to me. I need you to know that I choose you.”

You look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of his words sinking in slowly. He chooses you. After everything, after all the hurt and confusion, he’s standing here now, choosing you. But is it enough?

His fingers tighten around yours, pulling you gently toward him until you’re close enough to feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. “I know I don’t deserve another chance,” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours, his voice thick with emotion. “But I love you. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you, if you let me.”

After what feels like an eternity, you nod, a single, tentative movement. “Okay.”

Elias lets out a breath, like he’s been holding it in for hours, and without another word, he closes the distance between you, wrapping his arms around you in a way that feels both familiar and brand new. The warmth of him, the solid weight of his chest against yours, makes something inside you unclench, like you’re finally able to breathe again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you believe him. Finally.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey fanfiction #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks fic #elias pettersson #elias petersson fic #elias petersson x reader #elias petersson x you #ep40 #ep40 fic #ep40 x you #Spotify

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violetpurpleviolet · 2 days

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Supernatural , Season 6, Episode 7

Family Matters

Sam doesn't sleep , at all , not since he got back

"It never occurred to you there's something off about that?"

Oooh Dean's really pissed (Understandable)

IF HE CANT FEEL HOW IS HE FEELING PAIN? (its physical?)

"Its his soul , its gone"

Aw, because he's soulless, he can't care that he is soulless. This is so saaaaad. When does he get his soul back? Does it take the entire season? I don't want a whole season of soulless Sam :(. I miss soulful Sam.

Is Samuel also soulless? or does he have his soul because he wasn't trapped in a pit meant to hold Lucifer?

Have I mentioned that I don't like Samuel? Idk i just don’t like how he treats Dean. I get all hunters have trust issues, but idk this feels like some weird hatred. See, I trust Dean's instincts, he usually gets the trust stuff right more often than Sam. Sam's a cutie patootie (doesn't know who to trust, like me).

See, putting Dean in the back, when he knows Dean is a good hunter? Man, these damn hunters and their trust issues. Also, Samuel IS hiding something ( the phone call?).

I hate it when the brothers lie to each other. (but that's just siblings for you).

YAYAYAYA Sam and Dean are working together again. Brings joy to my heart.

Christian gives me the creeps. Also I just in general don't like people who are dicks to the brothers.

The alpha vamp actor looks really familiar. Also, before I started posting in the earlier seasons, I saw 3 actors from Once Upon A Time (Does anyone else watch that series?)

"Not heaven, not hell" "Legoland?"

Purgatory? Why does he want to find where purgatory is? I'm starting to think that the Alpha vamp wanted to be caught? Is he so powerful?

CROWLEY?

Oh, so that's why Christian was being such a bitch? Crowley is such a mastermind, though. Is Crowley the one who pulled them up? Oh, he's Lucifer 2.0, basically. (But I feel he's smarter because he doesn't underestimate Sam and Dean that much?) Also, he doesn't do the whole fate, god, raze the world stuff. Which was a big thing for Lucifer.

"What did he offer you? Girls, Money, Hair?"

Ah, Sam really was about to pull the trigger on Grandaddy. And Dean just unflinchingly puts his gun down. He knew soulless Sam would do that. Man they should have kept Crowley’s bones, but Bobby... hmm.

"You with me Dean?"

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imthesilentwriter · 3 days

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The Stars

Harry Potter x Wolfstar!Daughter!Reader

Summary: With a little help from the mistletoe, you and Harry share your first kiss under the stary night sky.

Warnings: first kiss, light teasing

Authors Note: I'm currently in the process of planning out a couple of oneshot ideas I've had in my head - so, as to prepare for the no time I will have over the next couple of weeks. These fics should be posted about a week or so apart, then I should be done with my final exams, and well... I'll be back. I hope you can understand, enjoy this fic!

Word Count: 2250

Navigation | Masterlist

You stand in the doorway to the boy’s dormitory, leaning against the frame as you watch Harry rummage through his trunk. The room is mostly empty, with only a few belongings left scattered about from students still ready to pack.

“Are you all set to go?” you ask, crossing your arms with a playful smirk, catching his attention.

Harry straightens up, turning to face you with that familiar messy hair of his falling over his glasses. “Almost,” he replies, his voice warm but a bit distracted as he shoves a book into his trunk. “Just making sure I didn’t forget anything.”

You raise an eyebrow, stepping into the room a bit more. “You’re not leaving behind any homework, are you? You did hand in that Potions assignment, right?” Your tone is teasing, but there’s a genuine question behind it. You’ve known Harry long enough to recognise that sometimes he forgets things when he’s too busy thinking about other stuff.

He grins, leaning casually against the trunk now. “Yes, Mum,” he teases back, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he crosses his arms in response. “Everything’s done. Handed in my Potions essay two days ago. Thought you’d be proud of me.”

You laugh softly, rolling your eyes but feeling a warmth in your chest as he steps closer. “I am proud. I’d hate for Snape to ruin your holiday with some snarky comment about missing work.”

Harry’s grin widens, his eyes sparkling as he takes another step toward you. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t let anything ruin our holiday. Especially not Snape.”

You tilt your head at him, smiling, and there’s a moment of quiet tension between you. It’s the kind that has become increasingly familiar lately, and you can feel your heart speeding up just a little. His eyes linger on yours for a second longer than usual, before he shakes his head with a laugh.

“Anyway,” he says, breaking the moment, “we should head down for dinner before Ron eats everything.” He gives you a playful nudge as he moves past you toward the door.

You chuckle, following him out of the room. “Knowing Ron, we’re probably already too late.”

You and Harry step into the Great Hall, the warm glow of the candles overhead flickering against the enchanted ceiling. You spot Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, sitting close together with a half-empty platter of food in front of them.

As you approach, Ron looks up, his cheeks bulging with a mouthful of what appears to be roast chicken. He says something muffled, completely incomprehensible as bits of food fly onto his plate.

Hermione rolls her eyes, giving him a pointed look before turning to you at Harry. “He said, ‘It took you both long enough.’” She offers a small, knowing smile that makes your stomach flip. There’s a teasing glint in her eyes, as if she’s noticed how close you and Harry are walking together.

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you quickly sit down next to Harry, trying to act normal. “We didn’t take that long,” you reply, though your voice sounds more defensive than you intended.

Ron, now finally managing to swallow his food, grins. “Yeah, sure. You’re only the last ones here. Hermione thought you two got lost or something.”

You scoff lightly, shooting him a playful glare. “We were just making sure Harry packed everything, unlike someone who nearly forgot their Charms homework last week.”

Ron shrugs, completely unbothered. “That was one time.”

Hermione looks exasperated but doesn’t press the point, instead glancing between you and Harry. “You two seem… close tonight,” she says, her voice casual but with a hint of teasing. “Sitting awfully close, aren’t you?”

Your heart skips a beat, and you realise that, yes, you and Harry are sitting closer than usual – your knees brushing under the table, shoulders almost touching. Harry shifts beside you, and when you glance at him, you notice the light pink tint spreading across his cheeks.

“Oh, uh-” Harry stammers, trying to play it off, “there’s just, you know, less space at the table tonight.” He sounds unconvincing, and you can feel your own face growing warmer.

Ron snickers, biting into a piece of bread. “Right. ‘Less space.’”

You kick Ron lightly under the table, earning a chuckle from him, while Hermione hides her grin behind her glass of pumpkin juice. Harry, still a bit flustered, reaches for a roll, but his hand brushes yours as you both go for it at the same time.

“Sorry,” he mutters, looking down at his plate quickly. You pull your hand back, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter more intensely.

Dinner goes on with light conversation, mostly centred around Ron’s enthusiastic retelling of his plans for Christmas and Hermione’s exasperation over his lack of preparation for the upcoming exams. All the while, you’re hyper-aware of how close Harry is, and how his arm occasionally grazes yours.

Once you’ve finished eating, the plates magically clear themselves, and Harry glances at you, an almost shy smile tugging at his lips. “We’ve got some time before bed… do you want to do something?” His voice is soft, hopeful.

You bite your lip, thinking for a moment, before the answer comes to you. “I’d like to go to the Astronomy Tower,” you say, your voice quiet but certain. “To look at the stars.”

His eyes light up, and he nods. “That sounds perfect.”

Ron lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Of course, the Astronomy Tower…”

Hermione gives him a look. “Oh, hush, Ron. Let them go look at the stars.” There’s a sly smile on her lips, and you have a feeling she knows exactly what’s going on between you and Harry, even if neither of you has fully admitted it yet.

Blushing, you get up from the table, feeling Harry’s eyes on you as he stands as well. You glance over at Hermione and Ron, who are both trying their hardest not to look too amused.

“Well, we’ll see you later,” Harry says awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he waits for you to join him.

You give Hermione a quick wave, and she winks back, as you and Harry head out of the Great Hall together, making your way toward the Astronomy Tower.

The cold night air bites at your cheeks as you stand atop the Astronomy Tower with Harry, the sky above a sea of stars. They glitter against the black canvas, so clear and sharp that it feels like you could reach out and grab them. You pull your cloak tighter around you, sneaking a glance at Harry beside you. His breath forms soft clouds in the crisp winter air, his eyes trained on the sky, but you can tell he’s just as nervous as you are.

For a while, it’s quiet – almost awkward – as you both gaze up at the stars, your fingers brushing his for a split second before you quickly pull your hand away. The cold is a convenient excuse for the shiver that runs down your spine, but deep down, you know it’s not just the temperature making you feel this way.

Harry clears his throat, breaking the silence. “The stars are… really bright tonight.”

You nod, unsure what to say, your heart racing just being next to him. The space between you feels charged with something unsaid. “Yeah, they’re beautiful.”

Another stretch of silence follows, and you sense Harry shifting on his feet beside you, as though he’s gathering the courage to say something more. You’re at a loss for words, the nervous flutter in your chest making it hard to think straight.

Then, after a moment, Harry speaks again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “You know… the stars, they kind of remind me of you.”

Your breath catches at his words, and you turn to look at him, your heart pounding in your ears. “Remind you of me?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper.

He glances down, shuffling his feet before meeting your gaze again. His green eyes are bright, reflecting the light of the stars above, and there’s something vulnerable in his expression, like he’s afraid of saying too much but wants too anyway.

“Yeah,” he continues, his cheeks flushing pink from more than just the cold. “They’re beautiful, obviously, but it’s more than that. They’re always there, constant, even when everything else feels uncertain. Like no matter what’s going on, you can always look up and find them.” His voice drops, a little shy as he adds, “You’re like that for me.”

His confession is so simple, but it makes your heart feel too big for your chest. You can’t tear your eyes away from him, and suddenly, the awkwardness disappears, replaced by a quiet tension that hums between you. There’s something in his gaze, something tender and full of hope, and you realize you’ve been waiting for this moment just as much as he has.

As you stand there, words hovering on the tip of your tongue, your eyes are drawn upward – and that’s when you see it. A sprig of mistletoe, its little white berries gleaming in the dim light, hanging just above your heads. It’s almost laughably convenient, but it’s there, and you know Harry’s seen it too.

Your eyes meet, and for a moment, you both just stand there, the realization hanging in the air. He glances at the mistletoe, then back at you, his breath coming out shaky, lips slightly parted as if he’s waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

Instead, slowly, carefully, Harry leans in, his movements tentative, giving you time to pull away if you want. But you find yourself drawn to him, your heart racing as you close the distance between you. Your eyes flutter shut, and then, finally, his lips meet yours.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, like you’re both testing the waters, but it sends warmth flooding through you, chasing away the cold of the night. His lips are gentle, and the hand that’s been brushing against yours squeezes lightly, grounding you in the moment.

When you finally pull back, the world feels different, like everything has shifted into place. You open your eyes to find Harry staring at you with a soft, almost awestruck expression, his cheeks flushed and his breath shaky. You know you must look the same, a blush creeping across your skin despite the cold.

The silence between you is thick with emotions that have been building for longer than either of you realized. You’re both standing there, frozen in place, still processing what just happened.

Without thinking, your hand moves up, trembling slightly as you cup the back of his neck. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and you can feel him shiver – not from the cold this time, but from the same nervous anticipation that’s thrumming through you.

You pull him down toward you, closing the space between you once more, and kiss him again. This time, the kiss is more certain, a little bolder, your lips pressing against his with quiet intensity. Harry responds instantly, kissing you back with the same urgency.

But just as you’re getting lost in the moment, Harry pulls back, his breath shaky as he rests his forehead against yours, his fingers brushing lightly over your hand. For a second, neither of you moves, standing there with your foreheads pressed together, the stars twinkling above, the cold night air forgotten.

You let out a breathy laugh, something soft and uncontrollable that bubbles up before you can stop it. Harry pulls back slightly, his lips quirking into a curious smile.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, his voice quiet but warm.

You bite your lip, still smiling. “I don’t know… I guess it’s just – this. Us.” You pause, your heart racing as you search for the right words. “I’ve wanted this for so long... I didn’t think it would actually happen.”

Harry’s expression softens, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek now. “Me too,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know how to say it... but I’ve liked you for ages. I just... I didn’t want to mess things up between us.”

Your heart swells at his confession, and you realize just how long you’ve both been waiting, dancing around this moment. You take a deep breath, your voice trembling slightly as you speak. “I like you too, Harry. A lot. I’ve been so nervous around you lately, and I-”

Harry smiles softly, his forehead still resting against yours. “You don’t have to be nervous anymore. We’re okay. Better than okay.”

You smile back, the relief washing over you, a weight lifting off your shoulders. There’s nothing left to say; you both know now.

Without second-guessing yourself, you lean in again, capturing his lips in another kiss – this one slow and sweet, like a promise. His hands settle gently on your waist as he pulls you closer. The world fades away, and all you can feel is him – his warmth, his steady presence, the way everything just feels right in this moment.

When you finally break apart, the stars are still shining above you, but all you can think about is how bright everything feels now that the truth is out in the open. Harry looks at you with a soft smile, his hand lingering on your cheek as he whispers, “I think the stars were always meant to lead me to you.”

#harry potter #wolfstar daughter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x wolfstar!daughter!reader #first kiss #fluff

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windfighter · 9 months

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The worst part about hanging out in Ren's stream is that it's making me feel sad about my family thinking I shouldn't exist. Usually I'm just angry at them, but Ren keeps talking about how family is the most important thing and we should call our parents and tell them how much we love them and I'm just

My mother told me to my face that people like me shouldn't exist

My brother told me it was my own fault if they made me feel like I shouldn't exist

And I'm just... Hearing mr Streamer tell me I should call them and say how much I love them just... hurts.

#windy wrambles #renthedog #this is not a hate-post I'm just feeling stuff #ren is okay and it's nice that he has a family filled with love #I... wish I had a family to spend yule with #but I'd rather be alone than having to listen to people talk about how I should disappear #I tried my whole life to get them to love me and I'm just...#done #I'm not gonna stop being autistic or queer just so that I'll finally have a family #I'd rather just die #I wish I could #the stream is nice otherwise #very chill #the plate up-part was amazing and I'm looking forward to more of that >:D

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icewindandboringhorror · 24 days

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On average, what is the total MONTHLY amount that you spend on dining out*?

*(This doesn't only count going out to restaurants, but also stuff like picking up fast food to bring home, getting a coffee on the way to work, getting a premade sandwich from a grocery store deli during lunch, buying a quick snack from a convenience store or food cart whilst walking somewhere, ordering a pizza or any other food to be delivered to your home, etc.)

*(If you often dine out in groups/as a household: calculate and divide the costs so that you get a Per Person average. This is for YOU individually, NOT the total household/group costs)

(I'm sure polls similar to this have been made before (very common topic), I just haven't personally seen one that I can remember, so, I was curious to do my own! I was discussing this with a group of people today and it was very interesting to see how widely the number varied between individuals. :0c )

(Reblog for bigger sample size if you can, and feel free to explain your answer in tags if there's anything extra to add!)

#polls #tumblr polls #I'm mostly in the 0/1 - 25$ category. Maybe the rare month is a bit over $25 if there's something specific going on like birthday.#Which I'm NEVER eating in an actual restaurant (erm... covid... plus I just hate restaurant environments. i would rather pickup #the food and bring it home to a peaceful quiet environment that I control lol). But more typically like stopping by a grocery store deli #section or something. I don't have coffee that much. And I can't eat fast food much due to my health issues/diet restriction stuff #so if I'm out like coming back from an appointment and I start feeling really sick and weak. I know that a hamburger will just #blow up my system and cause nausea or something. So I try to pick the breadiest most #neutral looking turkey sandwich at the safeway deli to eat during the hour ride home or whatever lol #I actually kind of wish I could do stuff like get food more often vecause it would take the burden of cooking everything off of me #but.. alas... Money... and Health Things... T o T #I still wouldn't do it ALL the time but like... once a week instead of once a month or something.. or maybe turning into a coffee #person.. I do love drinks A LOT .. i am a drink person who will have 5 different drinks sipping on at all times #But i just have to make them all myself mostly lol #And I cant really have too much coffee since it will make me sick. so like.. teas and juice mostly #When I inevitably become a millionaire by never using social media never networking and only finishing one #sculpture every 5 months which I dont even post about or sell - then I shall... get more drinks..#I will somehow wean my body onto coffee and drink one a day solely for the ritual of it #Though even then... I would still probably just like.. buy the mateirals to make it at home or something #Like if you had a million dollars you could just buy a kitchen grade ice cream machine and other stuff to make your own milkshakes and #coffees and smoothies and bubble teas. Genuinely I think even if I were a BILLIONAIRE I would still look at playing likr $8 for a single #coffee and go .. uh.... I could just buy the equipment to make this and then save that money. PLUS. its in my house now so no need to #have to leave. I can make my own drinks in the comfort of home. .. ideal..#Like no matter how rich I ever got I would still have the lingering scroogey stinginess. like i am NOT paying for that. I will jus #make it myself. Especially if it was an Everyday thing. Anythign thats part of my routine I try to optimize and make as efficient as #possible... ANYWAY.. In an IDEAL world I would get treats. but probably not that much. as on a daily basis it would start to get #to me and I would just save up to buy kitchen machinery if I was rich lol

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solitaireships · 3 months

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I feel like I should say since there's been a recent uptick in a lot of communities I'm in/see stuff from a lot of white people pretending to be Asian, but you are not welcome here if you are in anyway stealing from Asian cultures for clout or the aesthetics of it

This includes if you're white and you give your self inserts Asian names, I truly do not care if your f/o is from an anime, you should not be using an Asian name under any circumstances. I hate that whenever I see someone using an Asian name online, I feel like I have to start searching their account to see if they're actually Asian or just a white person who likes the aesthetic of it bcs far too many white people will use Asian names here just bcs it sounds cool, with no regard for the actual cultural meaning behind it. Meanwhile actual Asian people will be mocked for their names, or treated like their names are too hard to learn to pronounce, or discriminated against based on their names

Asian cultures are not a fun little costume for people to dress up with. They aren't just a nice aesthetic, they aren't just a thing you can borrow from bcs you think it sounds cool

#my posts #selfship community #anti asian racism #like it's definitely a perpetual problem of white people not seeming to realize asian names are like #a thing that are tied to culture and identity #but it's gotten crazy lately with people pretending to be asian online for clout #just in the past like 3 weeks of things i've seen #we had the white woman pretending to be a japanese woman on comic twitter #the white woman who pretended to be korean to get a 'ownvoices' book published #(who btw. named herself kim chi. you cannot make this shit up)#and then the white guy pretending to be japanese to try to justify his hate of the new assassin's creed game using stuff around yasuke #like it's so draining. i hate how much this is a never ending problem #i hate how casually white people will use asian names #like worstie. i am a korean woman. but i am whitepassing and mixed so i never use korean names for my self inserts #bcs i have the privilege of looking white and people generally only knowing i'm asian if i say it #it feels inappropriate to me for me to name my self inserts a korean name #bcs that would then mean they experience the world in a different way than i do #even being whitepassing bcs of the way people treat korean (and other asian) names #if you are white you have no fucking right to asian names #idgaf if your f/o's an anime character. stay away from asian names bcs they are not yours to dress up in #vent a little bit sorry team #i've been dealing with white people doing this shit and being assholes to me about it for well over a year now. it's exhausting

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genericpuff · 8 months

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vent post

#and before anyone who hates my shit says “yeah because you ARE a loser way to have self awareness for once”#i promise you this would be me with or without the LO fandom LMAO #anxiety is a hell of a thing #and as much as i internally guilt myself into thinking it would be better if i just shut up and hid away forever #i also know that's the trauma speaking because the adults around me always told me to shut up #and even as an adult i still encounter people who talk over me and make me feel like i'm not allowed to be outspoken #but the pen is mightier than the sword and all those years i've spent being spoken over i've been honing my penmanship #i have fun talking about the things i talk about and i don't have any less right than anyone else to do it #i am cringe and i am free #self post #vent post #altho on another note i do wanna make time this week to go find new series to read #too many of my favorites have turned to shit and it's taken its toll #i KNOW there are better comics out there that are genuinely well made #i already have a few that i'm reading that i love but i need to balance out the good with the bad more lol #i just need to take the time to go find good stuff instead of pouring so much of my attention into the bullshit that doesn't deserve my tim #i think both things can be true #i can have a lot of fun dissecting and writing about series i don't like #while also nourishing myself with good works that restore my faith in this medium #“perfectly balanced as all things should be”

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siryyeet · 2 months

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Oh you have complicated feelings towards Germany? Let me make 91836373 assumptions about it with my piss poor understanding of history, not listen to germans at all and then come to a horrendously bad and false conclusion on why that is! Also I think you germans should stop feeling guilty and be proud of your country again!

#I know people mean well when they say stuff like you should be proud of your country but my fucking god they are annoying #rains rants #german stuff #''I'm sure now that I a random person with no connection to germany commented this somewhere with my obvious zero understanding of germany-#all germans reading this will go 'oh hey you're right' and then feel patriotic! I'm sure my dumb comment will solve a what I regard #as issue of an entire country with a population of 80 million people! no need to thank me and my superior world view!''#sorry had to let that out somewhere.. the amount of times I see stupid ass comments like that is insane #ough post derailed I should've specified how I ment this sorry I get easily annoyed at this #The notes reinforce something I specifically did NOT mean but I didn't specify that in the post that was just in my thoughts #hate the reinforcement of the 'guilt' stereotype or the as long as we deal with nazis and stuff we aren't 'allowed' to be proud like no-#wait this isn't what this was about. Yes they're all still own topics to be discussed #although the last point doesn't exist agh forget everything I said actually #it's learning from history and taking responsibility not we can't be proud because some people are antisemitic and our past is dark #I should've turned off reblogs way earlier

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that-was-anticlimactic · 2 months

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i will never understand how or why the httyd movies did the books such an injustice.

the movies aren't even an adaptation - they stole the name of the series, the name of some of the characters and places, and the general idea that there are dragons. honestly, i would be fine with the movies and maybe even like them if they didn't capitalize off of cressida cowell's incredible books that never get any credit.

the books are an amazing story about the cycle of violence and how vengeance and revenge is dangerous. hiccup says that the past is a ghost story, one we need to learn from to better ourselves. the books are about how everyone deserves freedom, how every creature, every being on the earth deserves to be free. we see that in the slavemark, with the dragons.

and like... hiccup is so different. they did him a severe injustice. he's scrawny and intelligent and learned to talk to dragons simply by observing them! he chooses kindness first above all else; instead of yelling at toothless to train him, he is kind. and in the end, that kindness is why toothless chose to save him. bc even toothless himself says that dragons are inherently selfish creatures who care only for their survival. hiccup is brave - his beliefs differ drastically from both the vikings and the world.

hiccup is a child who chose to do the right thing even at the expense of himself. he agreed to free the slaves on nobert's ship, and in return, they gave him the slavemark which is easy to give but cannot be removed. he was like twelve. and having the slavemark means he cannot be with his tribe or his family, it means he isn't considered a human being anymore. and he keeps it a secret for awhile until it's revealed and when it is everyone turns their backs on hiccup. his family, his tribe, his mentor, people he TRUSTED. everyone except fishlegs, and, once she got over the shock, camicazi. he was thirteen. and even when he lost his memories and was really injured, he persisted. he was told to go to tomorrow and to save the dragons and he did bc in his heart he knew it was right even though he didn't know who he was or how he got there.

and fishlegs,,, oh my god FISHLEGS!!! the did him SO DIRTY!!! fishlegs is hiccup's best friend, one of the main motivators for hiccup. he steals norbert's potato for the sake of fishlegs, he gives fishlegs his dragon and goes to retrieve another, he takes the blame for fishlegs. and fishlegs does the same for him. he takes the slavemark with pride. he refuses to turn. he gives hiccup his lobster claw necklace which is his most prized possession. he is brave for hiccup, he believes hiccup is alive. he fights for hiccup harder than anyone else ever has. he does not turn. his is loyal, has allergies, has asthma, has a squint and a limp, has glasses bc he's blind without them... and he's still a hero despite being a runt, despite everyone even the adults telling him he's hopeless, telling hiccup to leave him behind.

and they cut camicazi! i'm sorry, but astr*d is nothing compared to camicazi. camicazi is a tiny, feral child who can easily best hiccup, fishlegs, and pretty much anyone in a sword fight. she can bring a grown man to tears with her rudery and smack talk. she is recklessly brave and craves adventure and follows hiccup blindly bc she trusts him that much. she isn't in love with hiccup - in fact she doesn't care about romance and love. she gives up everything to help hiccup bc she has a strong sense of justice. she is the motivator, the cheerleader, she finds a positive in everything. she never gives up. literally never gives up. and that's one of the most inspiring things about her: she always has hope.

and toothless! god!!! toothless is *thought to be* a common or garden dragon. he is horrifically tiny, he is literally toothless, and is the biggest brat in the world. he will cause problems on purpose. he has a stutter, he's the most selfless selfish dragon around. he and hiccup can talk to each other. he masks his fear with singing and being annoying. his growth is remarkable. he starts off refusing to obey hiccup, doing the opposite of what he says, making life harder for literally everyone around him, and he's still somewhat like that. but he's also braver, more caring, more willing to make sacrifices for the sake of others. he's clever, which he needs to be to make up for his size and aggression. he protects hiccup with everything he has, therefore, he protects what hiccup cares about just as hard. he was the only dragon that didn't abandon the vikings in the first book bc he cared about hiccup.

and snotlout,,, god,,, i will never forgive the movies for butchering snotlout. hiccup's cousin, the bully character, the one who is horrifically jealous that hiccup's dad was born before his. the one who desperately wants to prove himself, to be worthy, to make people proud. and you hate him, you despise him. he betrays everyone many times bc of the nothing promised to him by alvin and his mom. he loses himself, turns his back on himself, all bc he wants to prove himself. all bc he wants to be better than hiccup. and hiccup still forgives him and gives him chances, sometimes out of pity, but also bc snotlout is his cousin. he can't just turn his back on him no matter how miserable snotlout made his life. and in the end, snotlout sacrifices himself for hiccup. he gives up his life for hiccup in one last attempt to set things right. his death and the events preceding it are one of my absolute favorite moments in the book. gives me chills. makes me cry.

that's the thing with the books - they're so realistic. there is no inherently happy ending where everything works out. the first book begins with "there were dragons when i was a boy", implying that they're gone now. the books show there are consequences to our actions. they enslaved the dragons, they fought against them during the dragon rebellion all bc alvin and his mom said to, and now they're gone bc a simple apology doesn't fix hundreds of years of enslavement. and the only way for the world to move forward was for the dragons to leave and heal on their own. and now they have to learn to live without them. and yeah i've heard the third movie ends like that but. it doesn't have the build up. it doesn't have "there were dragons when i was a boy". it doesn't have eleven books of development to back it up, to make it feel meaningful.

i know that the movies are really special to a lot of people. i know that, on their own, they're genuinely good movies. i can acknowledge that the soundtrack is amazing and the animation is beautiful. i just can't see past the way they butchered the world that i love, the world that i grew up with. i can't see past the way people yelled at me for saying i liked the books better, the way that people gave me weird looks when i showed them a picture of the original toothless, when i tell them that nightfuries aren't even a type of dragon. cressida cowell created hundreds of different dragons, and the movies couldn't even pick from that. i can't forgive the way that barely anyone knows there are books bc the movie barely gives credit to them. i cannot forgive the way they capitalized off the books and then shoved them aside. i know cressida thinks they're good movies and i know a lot of httyd book fans also like them. but i just... i cannot get over how much they changed and how they missed so much and ignored the books. also they got rid of camicazi so hiccup could have a love interest and that is unforgivable to me.

if you disagree, that is a-okay. we're all entitled to our own opinions. i just ask that you, perhaps, try the books out. give them a chance. bc they're amazing works of art and also just like. don't yell at people who don't like the movies? whether it's bc they prefer the books or just aren't into that kind of movie. and just remember that dreamworks didn't come up with the story; cressida cowell did.

#corey talks:)#this has been in my drafts forever but i saw something that made me have feelings and so i finished it and here take this iuygfcvghuij #i justgod the books are SO GOOD and barely anyone knows theyexist #and i think that's what makes me the kost upset #or some [people chose to ignore they exist or don't give them a chance bc... i don't even know why. ppl are just so quick to dismiss them #the books are so important to me (literally got a httyd book tattoo) and i get most book fans also like the movies #but it sucks bc i can't go through the httyd tag without being bombarded with movie stuff #i'll even look up 'httyd books' and half of it is still about the movies.#i'll look up snotface snotlout and only finds movie stuff even tho ig they changed his last name in the movies???#i'll look up camicazi and find it filled with astr*d. WHAT.#i'll look u toothless and only see the freaking nightfury. not the original.#like god movie enjoyers at least tag correctly. i get you want ppl to see your posts but the more i see movie stuff in the book tag the mor #i hate the movies lol like the movies are so much more popular than the books let us have our tags okay #sorry if any of this sounds bitter also i hope it doesn't sound like i want to argue or fight #this is just my opinion and i have feelings and i just want ppl to know there are books #also i am not shaming anyone who likes the movies like i already said you do you boo just don't come at me for doing me #bc yes that has happened to me multiple times :) which is one reason why i get so upset :)#i just personally cannot separate the two. i know some ppl can and i'm glad! but i can't and that's okay too #httyd #httyd books

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