#I just want to give them all a hug

[afewproblems]

In My Heart is a Memory (And There You'll Always Be) Part Two

Part One

Steve spends his week in the hospital on oxygen and fighting pneumonia from his bed. A harsh wheezing sound has developed whenever he pushes too hard but Doctor Sattler isn't nearly as concerned as Steve the first time he hears it.

"It shouldn't worsen over time, but if you feel that the wheezing is becoming more frequent or that feeling of an elephant sitting on your chest comes back, you will need to use your new inhaler, today's the perfect day to learn how it works," Doctor Sattler told him with an air of nonchalance that did not match the news.

Two and two made four, the sky was blue, and Steve Harrington would need medication for the rest of his life.

Most of the time Steve sleeps fitfully, dreaming of cold grey water and kind brown eyes, but on the days he has more energy Steve walks around the ward with Claudia in between practising blowing into something called a spirometer. 

She tells him it's important to test his level of lung function and how he's improving, it should also help to reduce the wheezing sound when Steve is simply resting. He even gets one to take home with him. 

Steve listens as Claudia talks about her own son, he's eight years old and so curious about the world. It's obvious she loves him dearly.

Steve wonders if his own mother ever talks about him like that.

His mother checks in with him twice during the week. His dad has already left for his most recent work trip and Diane is planning to leave as well, at least until Sunday when Steve is expected to be discharged. 

“I’ll be gone for five days, but you’ll be here anyway, and they are taking good care of you aren’t they?” she asks, her voice uncharacteristically soft for once as she takes his cheek in her cold hand. 

Diane’s fingers brush the oxygen hosing around his cheek, Claudia had called it something weird --a canny-something-or-other. 

Diane lets go abruptly as if burned; her nose wrinkling slightly as she rubs her fingers against the palm of her hand. In one fluid motion, she stands up from her seat at the side of his bed and smooths down the blankets as she does so. 

Diane meets his gaze once, her pale blue eyes almost seem to look past him, before she hikes her handbag further up her arm.

“I’m leaving the number of the hotel with your Nurse Henry, and you’ll be home before you know it,” she nods with a forced smile and turns on her heel to slip out the door of his room before Steve can even correct her.

He hopes Claudia did get the number, that there isn’t some strange Nurse Henry with more access to his mother than even Steve is allowed. 

A small part of himself hopes that Eddie will come visit him.

It’s not likely, Eddie had seemed excited initially about showing him his Dungeons and Dragons book but how would he have any idea Steve would still be here.

That doesn't stop Steve from picturing Eddie yelling to his uncle as he bounds down the hallway, ‘Come on old man, Steve’s room’s gotta be here somewhere!’

But Eddie never materialises down the hall, armed with his players book or tales of dragons and knights.

Steve takes it in stride as much as he can.

The days blend together the longer he stays, but it isn't as though Steve has no one to talk to.

He asks Claudia more about her son and listens to the jokes the orderlies tell him when they come by with meals. Even Doctor Sattler stops by to check the machines by his bed and to watch him blow into the Spirometer.

It’s fine. 

Claudia gives him a long hug the day he's discharged. Steve isn't sure she's supposed to by the exasperated look Doctor Sattler gives her, but he says nothing and busies himself with writing something out on a small notepad.

"You be careful sweetheart, use your spirometer to practice and keep your inhaler on you at all times".

She sweeps his hair away from his face and squeezes his shoulder briefly before giving him the barest of pushes towards his mother who stands by the door.

Doctor Sattler hands Diane the two papers he's written out, "you'll have to fill these prescriptions, he'll need both of them before you head home". 

Diane nods and breathes out a clipped thank you before ushering Steve to the doors, he tries to turn to wave only for his mother to grip his shoulder firmly and walk him out.

He catches what he thinks may be concern in Claudia's eyes before the automatic doors close behind them and the familiar jingle of his mothers keys to the maroon beemer fills the air.

"We'll stop at Mevalds, you can wait in the car," Diane says as she opens the driver's side door and gets in. Steve hurriedly opens his own door as the engine starts, a small part of him wonders if she would leave him if he took any longer.

He closes the passenger door behind him, it's heavier than he remembers and a harsh wheeze fills the car as Steve breathes in slowly to halt the stuttering of his chest. 

He buckles in and looks up to find his mother watching him carefully. 

"Perhaps we should wait another week for you to go back to school," she hums, it's a voice she uses when thinking aloud but every instance of it usually happens when that thinking is about Steve.

"Why?" He asks as they pull onto the main road.

"You're making that awful noise," Diane says simply, "we should wait for it to stop, it will be distracting to your classmates".

A deep ache that has nothing to do with his lungs builds in his chest. He hadn't thought the sound was that noticeable. 

None of the other nurses or orderlies seemed to care about the new noise he made, or if they did they never said anything. Steve had been the one to ask about it,  concerned that he was the only one hearing it.

"Doctor Sattler said it should get better, but it won't go away," Steve argues with narrowed eyes, he crosses his arms over his chest and looks away towards the passenger window.

He hears Diane sigh as she signals to pull into the parking lot of Mevalds.

She turns off the engine and reaches into the back seat for her purse, leaning her hand against Steve's seat for balance.

Diane stops with her hand on the door handle, pausing as she turns to face him fully.

"I'm just looking out for you," Diane says softly, "the other children will notice eventually and the world isn't kind to people who are different Steven".

She gets out of the car, letting the words hang in the air. He watches her go into the store, already knowing he's lost. 

***

Steve's teachers welcome him back with little to no fanfare, Ms. Cuttler, the history teacher, even goes so far as to reprimand him for missing two whole weeks in front of the class. 

Steve doesn't need detention for 'mouthing off' on his first day back, no matter how unfair she's being. He manages to take his seat without speaking; he can't quite hide the angry red flush staining his cheeks though. 

Lunch is what Steve is looking forward to, he just has to make it to lunch, he can keep his head down until then.

Steve's last morning class is science. 

It's not his favourite class, but Mr. Clarke at least tries to keep it interesting for them, and he's always nice. Giving extensions on homework, half marks on tests rather than zeros with little comments in blue ink saying, 'I see where you were going with this, you almost got it!'

As soon as the bell rings, Steve grabs his backpack and books, uncaring of the homework instructions Mr. Clarke tries to yell over the clamouring kids and the last few notes of the bell.

"Oh Steve, you gotta sec?"

It takes every fibre of Steve's being not to just bolt from the room with the rest of the class, pretend he didn't hear.

It's your lungs that are screwed up now, not your ears, he thinks bitterly as he turns towards the front of the room where Mr. Clarke stands with a stack of xeroxed paper.

"Here's the homework you missed, if you can have it done for next week I think that'll keep you on track," he says with a smile that quirks his moustache.

Steve gives him a brief smile as he takes the stack of papers, "thanks, yeah I'll have it done by then," he tries for a grin, wincing at the raised eyebrow Mr. Clark gives him. 

They both know it will be late. 

Steve turns to leave again, with a forced half smile, but stops as Mr. Clarke clears his throat.

"They don't give us a lot of information about absences," he gives Steve a long look, "so all I'm going to say is if you want to chat, about anything, even if it's just homework, my door is open". 

Steve nods as Mr. Clarke gives him a kind half smile, patient like the ones Dr. Sattler or Claudia would give him after explaining how something worked. 

It's not something most adults put a lot of effort into, especially for Steve, writing him off if he doesn't understand something the first time it's explained. 

It's certainly not something his parents do for him.

"Sure Mr. Clarke," Steve mumbles as he tucks the papers into the textbook in his arms.

His teacher nods once and clears his throat awkwardly, gesturing towards the door, "Alright, you better get going," Mr Clarke says, "it's pizza day and I guarantee you the pepperoni is pretty much done at this point".

Steve snorts and takes a step back, "later Mr. Clarke," he calls over his shoulder as he makes his way past the empty desks and into the hallway, letting himself be guided by the stream of kids heading towards the cafeteria.

With the Hawkins Middle and High Schools being the only two secondary schools in the county, the buildings were naturally massive to accommodate all of the children and teens they housed on any given day during the school year.

The cafeteria was no exception.

Finding somewhere to sit was almost always impossible if you ran late to lunch, most students would give up trying to find a table and would end up settling by their lockers or sitting outside in the warmer months, but Steve was on a mission this time.

He looks around the busy room with his lunch tray, head on a swivel as he searches for a mop of curly brown hair. Eddie said he could sit at his table but he hadn't mentioned which one that was.

Steve walks along the wall, eyes scanning the tables, he begins to wonder if he had the wrong lunch period after all.

"I'm telling you, a beholder is the worst thing you could run into in a Dungeon, hands down--" 

Steve perks up at the voice, fairly certain he knows who it belongs to.

The relief is palpable as he continues forward, following the voice. A small part of Steve had begun to wonder if Eddie even went to his school, or if his muddled water logged brain had dreamed that up entirely. 

He finally spots Eddie at a table against the far back wall and has to stop himself from cheering as he makes a beeline for them, albeit more slowly than he would prefer. He's still getting winded easily and doesn't want to have to break out the inhaler the doctor gave him just yet.

There are two other boy's that Eddie is talking animatedly to, his hands gesturing wildly with a broad grin on his face.

Eddie spots him mid sentence and the effect is instant, his face lights up as he smiles and starts to wave before halting abruptly, a strange look passing over his face. 

"Hey!" Steve smiles, slightly uncertain now that Eddie's face has fallen into something unreadable. The other two boys at the table have turned to face him, their eyes scanning Steve up and down. 

The kid sitting closest to Steve, a black boy with braces and a t-shirt with something called Queen on the chest, Steve feels a spark of recognition at the name and makes a note to ask him about it later. He gives Steve a small polite smile which makes him feel slightly less nervous.

The other boy sitting closest to Eddie eyes Steve somewhat warily, he's wearing a Hawkins Middle school shirt, thick glasses with tape around the frame, and wavy brown hair that isn't as long as Eddie's but longer than Steve's mother would ever allow.

They all stare at Steve for what feels like an eternity before he clears his throat awkwardly.

"Um, my name is Steve--" he starts to say, reaching out a hand to the closest boy before Eddie stands up from the table.

"Where were you?" Eddie says, uncaring of the sudden climb in volume or the heads that turn their way. 

Steve ignores the faces turned their way and takes another step forward towards the table, a small nervous laugh bubbles up as he moves, “I was sick, remember?"

Eddie frowns, his eyes dart from Steve to the other boy directly in front of him, closest to where Steve is standing.

"I wanted to show you my book two weeks ago," Eddie folds his arms over his chest now, frowning slightly, "Ms. Allen confiscated it," he mutters darkly.

Steve winces at the tone and brings his arms around himself, taking a step back. A small part of him curses his decision to stay home another week to let his breathing find some semblance of normal.

The teen closest to Steve rolls his eyes, "if it wasn't the handbook, it woulda been something else Ed, you know Allen's been looking for a reason to punish us since you told her that you got more out of Gary Gygax than anything Mark Twain ever wrote --plus there's a literal demon on the cover,” he says with a wry grin. 

"I'm Jeff," he says with a wave before pointing to the other kid at the table, "that's Bobby, and it seems like you already know Eddie?"

Steve gives Jeff a small, thankful, smile and takes a step closer, "yeah, it's a bit of a long story--"

"A heroic tale of rescue more like!" Eddie cuts in, the familiar energy fills Steve with relief as he launches into the story.

Jeff rolls his eyes again and shoots Steve an exasperated look before patting the bench next to him, an official invitation.

Steve tries to play off the wide grin that threatens to take over his face and takes a seat next to Jeff, setting down his lunch tray with a clatter.

"So,” Eddie sits up slightly, bringing his leg up onto the table bench to curl up underneath himself, “Uncle Wayne and I were fishing, right?"

"Fishing?" Bobby cuts in with a laugh, wrinkling his nose as he looks Eddie up and down, "you?"

"Yeah fishing, not all of us can just go to the grocery store whenever we want," Eddie huffs impatiently as his ears begin to redden, he waves his hands, "anyway".

"Instead of a trout we managed to catch something a little stranger,” he grins at Steve, “he was all caught up in some old fishing line or something and--hey, you never told us why you were out on the lake by yourself?”

Three sets of eyes turn to stare for a beat though Bobby loses interest fairly quickly, averting his eyes back to the open milk carton on his own orange lunch tray. 

Steve clears his throat, unsure just how to explain his thought process that morning. 

He just had to get out of the house, he couldn’t sit there any longer waiting for his dad to finally leave--

“Well?” Eddie prompts again, the smallest of frowns pulls at his expression before Jeff snorts.

"This is not very heroic so far man, where are the X-Men, the laser battles, come on dude," Jeff grins as Eddie sputters and launches into a rant about comic books that Bobby seems to perk up at, his attention switching from the lunch tray to Eddie.

Steve breathes out a sigh of relief as the attention moves away from him.

"You don't need lasers or special powers for hero stories, Tolkien didn't need idiots in spandex, he just needed a Hobbit and a ring and made a fucking masterpiece," Eddie 

"Are you seriously comparing yourself to Tolkien right now?" Jeff asks with a knowing smirk, it grows wider as Bobby laughs.

"Who's Tolkien?" Steve says, it's not a name he's ever heard before, though they must be some kind of storyteller. Was there a new book assigned while Steve was away recovering?

Eddie blanches for a second in surprise before his face lights up, he waves his hands at the chorus of groans from both Jeff and Bobby and cackles, "Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, we have so much to teach you!"

***

As the school year comes to a close, Steve finds himself looking forward to the summer for the first time in his life.  

Summer for Steve is normally lonely.

He spends his time looking for ways to avoid his house, counting down the days when he can go back to school. Even sitting through class or trying out for the intramural leagues is better than the monotony of summer.

At least during school he had people to talk to. 

But this summer is different. 

Steve, Jeff, Eddie, and Bobby get on like a house of fire, where one of the boys is, the other three are never far behind. 

They teach Steve about Dungeons and Dragons, Tolkien and the one ring --the book certainly reads like some of the books they had assigned in class, but Eddie and Jeff looked so excited the day Steve brought it home from the library, he couldn’t disappoint them.

In turn, Steve introduces the other boys to the pool, inviting the three of them to the Harrington house on a scorching June day.

“No way,” Bobby whispers as they reach the driveway, Jeff’s mouth drops into a little ‘O’ shape while Eddie’s eyes widen in surprise before his expression shutters. 

“You’re kidding right?” Jeff asks with a laugh in his voice, “seriously, where’s your moat man?”

Steve reaches out to push Jeff’s shoulder as Bobby laughs, “shut up, it's not that bad--”

“No? Are you going to bring out a unicorn next? What else are you hiding in there?” Bobby scoffs as he takes a hesitant steps towards the edge of the driveway, as though worried the ground would fall out from underneath him at any moment. 

“Oh just wait,” Steve says, biting his lip to keep his grin in check, it falters slightly at the pinched expression on Eddie’s face, the way his eyes flick from the house to Steve, before eventually landing on their feet.

Steve opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong but he’s forced to whirl around to keep his footing as Bobby drags him up the drive, “Steve, if you do actually have a horse in there, I will still be very impressed”.

While it may not be a unicorn, Steve knows he has one other ace up his sleeve as he presents them with the crown jewel of the Harrington house, the Atari.

“Oh my god!” Bobby crows as he jumps off the last step of the basement and races towards the television. 

“You have one of these!” he hisses incredulously, snatching the attached joystick from its resting place on the top, Steve winces as the cord pulls slightly from Bobby’s exuberance. 

“I mean, it’s my dads, not mine,” Steve shrugs, he puts his hands in his jeans pockets and turns back to Jeff and Eddie, “but we can play it, he’s not home”.

Diane argues the day his father brings the machine home. 

It must stay in the basement, out of sight, determining that something so hideous has no place in their well decorated living room. 

Ignoring the fact that the only television in the house was in the basement, Diane insists on keeping the rest of the house as pristine as Good Housekeeping has taught her. 

Richard simply rolls his eyes at his wife, ‘It’s not like it matters Diane, one of the investors thinks he’s being cute, like any son of mine would waste his time with one of these, right Steven?’

Steve nods, content to keep his head down, focused on his homework, not to make waves.

‘Course dad, computer games are for losers,’ the words come easily, he’s heard them before.  He flinches as a heavy hand comes down on his shoulder and squeezes lightly.

‘God damn right’.

‘Why are we even keeping it then?’ Diane asks sharply, her tone cool as she follows him down the stairs. 

Steve trails after them to the landing; he can still hear from the wary distance he keeps while his parents continue to talk. 

"Allan and the rest of the partners are coming in two weeks for drinks, and I’m not letting that prick get one over on me”.

Diane is quiet for a beat.

Steve tilts his ear to listen intently. He knows that silence. It's something his mother usually employs while calculating all options before speaking carefully.

‘Fine, I suppose the dust will collect best down here,” Steve can almost hear the sneer that pulls at his mothers mouth as she speaks. 

‘Atta girl,’ Richard  says quietly, almost fondly. 

Jeff raises an eyebrow as he comes to stand beside Steve, “you can’t play it if your dad’s home?” 

Steve falters for a second, scrambling for something to say.

Bobby scoffs by the television, still inspecting the machine, "you know how much one of these things costs? If we had one, my dad would flip if I so much as looked at it”.

Steve settles for shrugging with a mild smile, infinitely grateful for Bobby's ability to blurt out the first thing he thinks in any given situation.

If Jeff questions it, he doesn't say anything, and instead moves to join Bobby where he crouched on the floor.

Steve turns back to find where Eddie went only to find him frozen on the last stair still.

His eyes seem to trace over the room, an unreadable expression on his face, it contorts into something sour before smoothing as his gaze eventually lands on Steve. 

"Didn't know we pulled a rich kid outta the lake," Eddie says after a beat, finally walking further into the room, his arms crossed tightly over his stomach. 

"I guess," Steve says weakly as Eddie nods and moves towards where Jeff is kneeling beside Bobby with one of the game cartridges in his hands.

A spark of annoyance crackles through Steve, licking the inside of his ribcage. If Eddie isn’t interested in playing, he just has to say so, they can do something else - work on their character sheets, go outside. The other day Eddie showed them all the best spot by the quarry for throwing rocks so that the sound seemed to echo for miles as it hit the water. They could easily go, right now. 

They aren’t supposed to be touching this anyway, it’s not like it’s a big deal. It’s not. 

Steve knows the others don’t know how much trouble he could get into for this, the risk he’s taking for even showing it to them, for having kids over unsupervised, uninvited. 

 "Well, does that thing play Asteroids or what?" Eddie asks abruptly, interrupting Steve’s train of thought. 

He nods, quietly tamping down the last fleeting sense of irritation and walks over to the shelf where the rest of the games were dumped, wincing at the impressed chorus of whoops that Jeff and Bobby let out.

It only serves to accentuate the brooding silence that has followed Eddie all morning, since they walked over the threshold of Steve’s front door.

Jeff and Bobby take turns playing the rest of the afternoon. Steve defers to them, content to simply watch his friends try out the games. They bicker back and forth, making noises at key moments to try and break each other's concentration, Steve laughs brightly as Bobby manages to make Jeff crash for the fourth time in a row by simply imitating Rod Stewart.

“If you want my body and you think I'm sexy, come on, sugar, tell me so!” Bobby croons, making his voice older and raspy as he leans close enough for Jeff to twist his head away.

“Get outta here Bobby-- oh you sonovabitch!”

Bobby cheers, lifting his clasped hands above his head, “and the crowd goes wild, what do ya say, Jeff, best two out of three?”

Jeff flops backwards onto the carpet, pretending to catch an invisible dagger to the chest, “mark my words, if you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine!”

He rolls his head to the side and reaches out, pointing towards Steve with a cry, “Avenge me!” 

Steve laughs long and loud as Jeff croaks and groans and finally sticks his tongue out of the side of his mouth with a low hissing sigh as he finally pretends to die on the carpet of Steve’s basement. 

“So, what say you, Steve?” Bobby croaks as he lifts one hand to cover his mouth, and the other to hold out the abandoned joystick as he breathes out heavily, “do you dare take up the saber?”

Steve has no clue what they’re doing, a joke from something he’s sure, but he schools his face into something serious, and takes the joystick with a grave nod.

“For Jeff!” Steve cries as the digital melody fills the air.

Finally, Steve lets himself bask in the warmth and friendship that has surrounded him for the last few months, the normal chill of the Harrington home finally absent as Bobby begins to cheer while also doing his damndest to distract Steve. 

Jeff finally sits up with another hiss, “I LIVE, to see Steve beat your sorry ass Bobby!” 

He claps his hand on Steve's shoulder with a grin, “you got this!” 

It isn’t until a throat clears behind them that the three boys notice Eddie hasn’t said a word for the last ten minutes. 

He’s standing now, backpack slung over his shoulder --when did he go upstairs?

“It’s late,” Eddie mumbles quietly, “Wayne will want me home for supper soon”.

The words seem to break the spell that has fallen over the other two boys and they both stand as if summoned from their seats on the floor. 

Steve can only sit and watch as Jeff and Bobby move towards Eddie, albeit reluctantly. 

Jeff stretches out, raising his arms above his head, “yeah, I should probably go too,” he groans out as he drops his arms back at his sides. 

“Thanks for the game dude,” Bobby says with a shrug, though he looks decidedly more annoyed at the interruption than Jeff, “beats trying to escape the heat in the creek anyway”.

Jeff rolls his eyes, “It also beats shelling out quarters at the arcade on 4th Bobby, this was seriously really cool man”.

Steve grins at the pair of them before turning towards Eddie who glares at the floor in silence until Jeff elbows him. 

Eddie breathes out loudly through his nose, “yeah it was cool, but next time we should go over your characters a bit more, especially if you guys are going to survive the next encounter I designed”.

Bobby scoffs as he grabs his own messenger bag from the bottom of the stairs, “well I’m not going back to the library, Mrs. Depencier gives me the creeps”.

“The library is the only place with enough space,” Eddie argues as he turns and makes his way up the stairs.

Steve feels the words lift him up, this is his chance, he takes a step towards the other teens, “I could host?” 

Jeff and Bobby stop, turning back towards Steve with excitement in their gazes. Jeff seems to hesitate though, turning back to back to Eddie whose face is hidden by the edge of the staircase, Steve can only make out the bottom on his legs from where he’s standing.

He walks forward to the bottom of the staircase and stops short of taking the first step, “my parents aren’t home for the next four weeks so I can have you guys over, no problem”.

Bobby punches his fists into the air, "Yes! Oh my god, huge house, no parents?" Bobby jumps down the last two stairs again and nearly tackles Steve, "this is perfect!"

Perfect, is…certainly a word for it, not necessarily the one Steve would use, but Bobby wasn't here at night. 

Not when the glow of the pool would cast eerie shadows along the treeline that surrounded the Harrington backyard. Steve never felt comfortable sitting outside by himself once the sun went down, even now in middle school. 

All it took was one snapped branch in the dark or one flicker of shining eyes for him to race back into the kitchen, slamming the sliding door shut behind him.

The locked door never really feeling like enough by himself. 

"Four weeks?" Eddie says quietly as he takes a step down, his expression seems pained though Steve can't imagine why.

"I know it's not that long," Steve shrugs, "but we could do it in an afternoon right?"

Jeff's eyebrows rise, cutting shallow creases across his forehead, he and Eddie look at one another, seemingly having some kind of silent conversation before they both turn back to Steve at the same time.

"I need three days to finish it up, but that means we can meet in between to finish your characters," Eddie offers, the words slowly break the strange sudden quiet that has fallen over the basement. 

"Tomorrow?" Steve asks tentatively, 

"I'll be here, and hey if they don't come," Bobby says with a wry grin as he elbows Steve, "then I'll kick your ass at Asteroids!"

"We'll be here jackass," Jeff scoffs as Eddie nods silently.

He has a strange look on his face that Steve can't quite place, but at least he doesn't look annoyed anymore.

"Tomorrow then," Eddie confirms, grinning as Bobby blurts out a loud, 'hell yeah' as Jeff rolls his eyes once more.

The boys do eventually make their way upstairs, though at a snail's pace as the strange tension from earlier fades away. 

Steve walks them all to the door and watches as they make their way down the long drive, taking turns waving as their voices fade into the distance.

Steve swallows hard as he closes the front door, trying not to think too hard about how many hours until he'll hear his friends voices again.

Permanent Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

#in my heart is a memory and here you'll always be #childhood friends au #afewproblems writes #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #jeff #baby hellfire #we have a cameo from mr clarke #I just want to give them all a hug #instead #I'll put them through the ringer #maybe next post we will do the full prompt reveal #sorry this took so long #eddie is a task master when it comes to dnd but his friends love him for it #cross posted on ao3 as well

[hoperays-song]

Can’t escape us that easily

Ash, after Sing 1: I push people away, that’s what I do.

Johnny and Meena at her door with cookies and video games, ready to claim themselves a big sister: Oh hell no, you’re not pushing us away. If you push us away, we’ll grab you and pin you to the wall. We’re in this together now bitch.

#sing #sing 2 #sing johnny #sing meena #sing ash #moon theatre trio #the sibling vibes from these three #I love it so much #I just want to give them all a hug #Marcus honorarily adopts the girls the moment he meets them #they all call rosita mom

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Laios's three Boy Best Friends. And yes, they hate him.

#dungeon meshi #laios touden #toshiro nakamoto #chilchuck tims #kabru #BF in this context could be boyfriend or best friend. The line is so blurry. #Chilchuck less so but whatever is going on between Shuro and Laios & Kabru and Laios is giving strong: #“dude if you were a girl I'd date the hell out of you”. And from the genderswap extra's that sentiment is canon for BOTH. #This was made prior to the translation of the Laios & Kabru & Shuro restaurant date comic and honestly I am just feeling vindicated. #I don't even know what to call this dynamic other than a situationship. There is so much going on between all of them. #Even on a purely platonic reading - the miscommunication and male yearning for friendship hurt so bad. #When we got the Big Hug scene in the epilogue arc I was whooping and hollering! Pure catharsis moment! #I also don't like hugs very much so I really felt it went Shuro ('hates being touched') went in for the bear hug. #Do not get me started on the agony of 'always lying' Kabru telling the truth (I just wanted to be friends) #and 'always believes' Laios thinking it's another lie and brushing him off. #I am once again supporting dungeon meshi day by posting art. Please watch dungeon meshi. #obligatory edit because I’m tired: YES. Chilchuck cares for Laios and him admitting it was a huge part of his arc #YES he is more just fed up with him that actually hating him. #I needed a third guy to be canonically done with his ass for the THREE WEED SMOKING GIRLFRIENDS reference

[chaoticwhoknows]

do you guys ever think about jamie tartt and sam obisanya bc i do. constantly. they take up so much room in my brain. going from “no one in my entire career had made me feel worse about myself than jamie did” to sam and jamie being comfortable enough to constantly tease each other like siblings and swarm each other during goal celebrations and SAM being one of the first people (along with roy) who we see being concerned about jamie in mom city. JAMIE WEARING SAM’S NUMBER WHEN HE PLAYED FOR ENGLAND. season 3 jamie and sam are so… just so… they’re soooooooo!!! and season 2 jamie and sam are like hey what if i reached out to you through a series of seemingly small gestures in very vulnerable moments of yours bc i don’t know how to properly show that i care about you given the history between us until eventually we were just completely in sync with each other? what then?

and don’t even get me started on the parallels between them. ladies and gentlemen THE PARALLELS. the JUXTAPOSITIONS. the OTHER WORDS. their relationships with their fathers alone is so much to unpack. them cutting to JAMIE’S reaction when ola walked in and hugged sam in the locker room separately from the reaction of the rest of the team. the creators knew what they were doing with that

#i think about sam holding back another player (i think dixon?) during The Hug at Wembley so much #bc that’s sam saying ‘jamie needs roy and not me or you so we need to give jamie space’ #AND him saying ‘idk what jamie needs rn bc we aren’t There yet but ik he doesn’t need This’ #like there’s care in there and there’s an inability to express it #and jamie with the dubai air protest don’t get me STARTED. #like he doesn’t make a gracious statement he’s just like ‘hey pass the tape we all need to wear the same kit’ #like ‘i don’t understand what exactly you’re going through but i care about u and want to support you’ #when i write the sam-jamie scene to the addressing jamie’s dad fic… #i think then i will heal of all that ails me truly #microdosing on writing the sam jamie fic by writing this #jamie tartt #sam obisanya #i need to rewatch s2 just to pick them apart #ted lasso

[willowser]

you don't know how much comfort your dragon king bkg drabble has given me ever since you posted it!! i keep reading it i love it sm 🥹

as it turns out, the man bakugou is — a bit harder to handle.

he sleeps like a heathen; you once thought the dragon bakugou to be a bit lazy, with how often he tended to curl up in the fields of grass, warm under the sun, but now — it would seem his little human form needs significantly less rest.

almost up all hours of the day, and when he does finally lay down, he's everywhere. a mess of limbs: one thrown carelessly out to the side and the other bent at an angle you can't believe doesn't hurt his joints. his head stays tucked into you somehow, either buried in your neck or pressed against your ribs — or you'll wake to find him nose-to-nose with you. he still snores like a dragon, however.

you're also beginning to wonder if there is a bottom to the pit of his stomach. he ate much before, whole fields of things, but you expected that appetite to dwindle, at least a little, now that his stomach has decreased considerably in size. and in number ? you're not even sure how many stomachs a dragon has; that's not something that was mentioned in the fairytales.

it burns through him quickly, gives him more energy than he needs, and it doesn't ever seem to affect his weight much. already, he's huge and thick with muscle and eating as much as he does never dulls the severity of his cut abdomen. not that you're looking all that much.

— not that you have a choice not to, as he seems to have little-to-no understanding of —

the door to the bathhouse kicks open, with enough force that you already know who it is without ever turning to look. you try not to shriek when you see him, because he seems to like that in some evil, impish way.

you've been alone to wash so far, thankfully, as the inn you'd managed to find was small and far enough out from the nearest kingdom that the occupancy was low — enough for you and your little brute.

the man bakugou comes to stand in front of the bath, blinking and huffing against the steam. finding clothes for him was — nearly impossible, and so the trousers you'd found hanging on someone's line outside fit above his ankles, a bit too tight around his waist. instead of a shirt, you've wrapped him in a scratchy linen, swaddled him up like a baby to cover the small smattering of scales that decorate his body, almost like freckles from the sun, though they gleam just as bright and red as they ever have. no matter his form.

a horn has started to sprout, on the right side of his forehead, and you've done your best to cover that, too.

you have no idea how long this man thing will last. if it's permanent or if he even has control over it. the last thing you need is for him to switch back, somehow, while you're in the middle of feeding him, absolutely demolishing whatever tavern you're in and calling all of king todoroki's guards to attention.

bakugou grunts, almost sleepy, and tosses a fat, weighty sack onto the edge of the bath. it jingles a certain jingle that makes your heart stop.

"oh, allfather—" you move for the edge, awkwardly keeping one arm against your chest despite the fact that he's seen it all by now. when you peek inside and confirm your fears, you lob it back to him furiously, as if it were a steaming potato. "where do you keep getting this stuff?"

things have started to turn up, miraculously. shiny things — like coins and rings and gems. things he could not have simply found rolling around in the dirt.

"go put it back!" you hiss at him, and the tone of your voice makes his frown deepen. you never realized how pouty he was, when he was still a dragon.

you think he understands you, and you're pretty certain he just chooses not to listen; instead of doing what you've told him in the slightest, he simply dumps the coin-purse to the floor, and then lets his linen and stolen trousers cover it as he unceremoniously undresses.

the biggest issue that you would say the man bakugou poses is — his complete lack of understanding of personal space.

"bakugou!" your voice wavers, shocked again by his nakedness. as if you haven't seen it all by now. "no, you — get out!"

but he does the exact opposite, which is hop into the steaming water, ignoring the arm you hold out to keep him away as he saddles up beside you. skin against scales, pressing a nose into your hair to huff out his annoyance, to make it something you can feel.

if anyone were to walk in right now, they would — probably think the lie you'd told the innkeeper was true. that you are a simple traveler and this is your mute, over-sized husband.

regardless, you think this behavior isn't polite. especially in a public bathhouse.

"bakugou," you try again, turning your face away as you speak to the wood-paneled wall. "i'm taking a bath, you have to wait your turn."

all you receive in response is another huff against your ear and a low rumble of disagreement from his chest.

he has yet to speak back, and has only used inhuman sounds as his points of conversation. the only word you've ever heard him utter is oi, which he does when he really thinks he needs your attention. you're starting to wonder if he's named you that in his head. oi.

curiously, you turn back to him and the movement has him pulling his face from your hair, just enough that he can look down at you, too. watch you, with the red-rippled sea in his eyes.

they're — amazing, you will admit. just as bright and detailed as they always have been. fit for a fairytale told by the fire, veiled by the soft-ash of his lashes. he watches you through them, half-lidded, and you wonder if it's something other than fatigue that has them so heavy.

"do you know what i'm saying?" you ask quietly, voice lacking the firm heat you want it to. instead it's heavy, too, weighted by something soft and unfamiliar and frightening. "can you even understand me?"

bakugou doesn't respond, not with a huff or a rumble or ever a purr, like the one he let out on the night he lay over you by the lake. you've only heard it sparingly since then, oftentimes in his sleep when his face is pressed into you.

you try not to frown at his silence, try not to let it disappoint you because it shouldn't; he's a dragon afterall, and you're not sure what it matters. the little horn protruding from his forehead catches your eye and you reach up to touch it gently, watching him blink away the water that drips from your wrist — and then he's turning into you again, too close.

beneath the water, you feel his hands skate up your bare thighs, wrap around your waist until your chest is pulled flush against his. you feel his huff, again, against the damp skin of your neck but it's slower, lighter. not laced with his frustration. some unknown thing you feel guilty for liking.

you drop your hand to his hair, rushing full force into all the damned things you've thought about doing but have been too afraid to. he's soft between your fingers, and you trace your nails lightly against his scalp until he groans quietly; a new noise, one you don't know how to translate.

your fingers stop when they brush upon little spines that have grown at the base of his skull, that have started to trail down the center of his back.

suddenly, tangled up in the bath with him, you wonder how much time you have left.

bakugou huffs again into your skin, a little fiercer this time, and it's because of his light jostling that you realize how rigid you've gone. you try to relax so that he will, too, though you must not do a convincing job, because a sharp nip comes to your earlobe.

"ow!" you squeal, but he doesn't let you go far, not even as you try to jerk away from him. in fact, the harder you try the more his teeth show: into your cheek and the point of your jaw and then dangerously low on your neck.

it's not until you finally freeze that he stops, huffing again, with a warmth that burns more than the steaming water.

and then, very quietly, he grumbles, "shitty wife," into your collarbone, just before biting you again.

#anon dear friend i am so happy you have enjoyed it !!! and that it has comforted you in some way !! #i am wrapping you up in a big hug and so is our bratty lil dragon🥹 #this message was just so cute and i wanted to write more for you !!! #this is all for you my peach my plum 😌 thank you for being here and reading my silly things !! giving me a reason to share them !!! #how fuuuuunnnn i am enjoying him way too much LOL #he's a brat !! a biter !!! he does what he wants !!! #god this is going to become a thing on here isn't it LOL might as well start a tag because i have much more to say !! #the lil world-building i have done for this in my mind...you have no i dea LOL #thank you again dearest !! #he he he he said THIS IS MINE 😊 #and by this he means YOU 👀 #๑ remember me love: bakugou ๑ #✿ willow writes #✿ ask willow #✿ thoughts: bakugou

[y-allium]

SIFFRIN <3333

#in stars and time #isat #isat siffrin #isat fanart #im not ok this game... omg this game #seriously play this game if you havent #you know its good when this is the first thing ive finished drawing in like 2 years or something #and them!!! the scrimbly!!! the scrimblo!!! the ultimate blorbo!!!! #siffrin is like me fr but in a way that makes me say wait no thats not good actually #i will give them all the hugs if they want <333 #or if he rather have isabeau thats also good just someone hug this man #ughh im still crying about that ahhhh okay enough rambling in the tags lol #(also thank you jelloapocalypse for introducing me to this masterpiece of a game it has forever changed me) #allium art

[dontworryihaveyourblorbos]

I don’t really know how to say this in a better way so imma just say it

If you think John Dory is a bad character then respectfully, you have no idea what being an oldest sibling is like.

He didn’t abandon his brothers. He was pushed to a point of having to be responsible for four younger brothers, ranging from baby to teenager, trying to coordinate and pull off good if not perfect shows, trying to help Rosiepuff raise both them and himself while also dealing with trollstice and the troll tree while also struggling with an ever growing *need* to be perfect. It doesn’t matter how much you love your siblings- if you’re stressed enough, you’re going to snap and you’re going to snap at them. And you know what? He probably hated himself for that too. And for the fact that he couldn’t be perfect. Any oldest sibling knows the guilt of not being good enough and presumably tearing down their younger siblings in the process…it’s awful. No fuckin wonder he walked away, bro was what, 17?? 18??? He shouldn’t have had to do that. And he didn’t just abandon his brothers knowing what was gonna happen to Branch. From his perspective, he walked away knowing full well Spruce and Clay could step up, and that Rosiepuff would still be there. He had no way of knowing Branch would end up alone and gray, because if he did, he never would have left.

John Dory is not a bad character. He loves his brothers.

Edit: some people are saying he didn’t come back until he needed something. He came back to an empty troll tree- he thought his brothers were dead. He probably only left for a few months or so! He didn’t abandon them. He had every intention to come back and did. His family was just gone.

#idk if this is a vent or an analysis #I’m just so tired of people making him out to be an unloving brother #guys #he thought they were dead #he was *so* excited to see all of them and they wouldn’t even give him a hug #being an older/oldest sibling is fuckin hard #I’m the second oldest of a bunch of kids in similar age ranges to Brozone #when I tell you #I would snap way sooner than he did #it’s just not fair to him or his character to say he abandoned them on purpose #or that he brazenly made them be something they didn’t want to be for the band with no regrets #I guarantee you #it kept him up at night when he fought with his brothers #he probably hated himself for making his brothers unhappy #but what else could he do #he was stressed out and desperate #John Dory is not a bad character #he’s an oldest brother who didn’t get a chance to finish his own childhood. #trolls #trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #trolls John Dory #trolls jd #realizations #rambles #brozone

[shepscapades]

Hey! i’m really into the dbch story and i was wondering if doc and xisuma ever tell bdubs the specifics of why etho lost his memories, cause if they do that is prime self blaming angst for bdubs

I’m inclined to believe they don’t. Actually (and maybe I should do a small comic for this so more people see it) I imagine, once a month or a few pass and they finally return etho to bdubs as reset, I imagine they are VERY serious about warning bdubs not to try to force Etho to re-deviate— they don’t go into specifics, but they probably tell bdubs that whatever happened had to do with something that was emotionally overwhelming, and that forcing him to redeviate/not letting it happen naturally could trigger the same error. They have no idea what could happen so bdubs needs to be very careful and let Etho find himself again on his own.

Whether or not bdubs gets impatient or can only go so long before he doubts it would be that bad if he tried pushing Etho in the right direction is another story.

But yeah. I don’t think Xisuma or Doc really… tell anyone that this happened. Etho’s error seemed like a very specific one-off scenario, so it’s not something the other hermits should be trying to avoid or be careful about happening to their own android friends, and the only thing telling people would do is make them worried about the situation. All they need to know is that etho was broken and that they need to be careful with him. I don’t agree with their decision to keep what happened to themselves but I understand it I think. Xisuma “i don’t want to worry the hermits” Void and Docm “eh this isn’t the first time I’ve replaced this arm, people won’t question it” 77

#that’s a lie actually I think xisuma ends up telling Cleo :> #but only because Cleo is very smart and I think they should be close in this au :] #but no she would clock Tired Overworked Existential Crisis Xisuma in an instant #Cleo calls them both idiots and gives them big hugs and tells them they need therapy. also that they’re welcome by her place anytime to talk #it’s very sweet and healing to me #this is where “all things end’’ on Xisuma’s playlist comes in actually #oh my god I got so off topic #BDUBS IS GOING TO FEEL GUILTY NO MATTER WHAT THOUGH #like okay. technically #the reason etho shut down is because he was freaking out that everything was his fault #(last life—not giving bdubs a heart— trying to win for bdubs and then losing— coming back to s8 feeling like he can’t face bdubs—> #ending up leaving him alone when the moon hit #and bdubs was hurt by these things. no doubt #but bdubs just wants his friend back and maybe he’s a little reckless about it #bdubs hides his emotions behind cartoonish frustration and complaining but he feels bad #he feels like he should be doing more to ‘save’ etho and bring him back even though he was to #told* he shouldn’t #dbhc ask #dbhc #dbhc bdubs #dbhc etho #dbhc doc #dbhc xisuma #ask #anon

[ygodmyy20]

Hugs.

#mp100 #terumob #mob psycho 100 #or just best friend hugs #whatever you want #teruki hanazawa #shigeo kageyama #hugs all around #just want more warm happy terumob right now #read so many good fics where Shigeo comforts Teru #I love Shigeo giving Teru the best hugs #and teru loves them #also Shigeo is taller than teru #yep #also is that season 1 outfit with season 3 hair? #yes yes it is haha #my art

[cerise-on-top]

how long do you think it takes Kate and Valeria to day ‘I love you’ to their s/o’s? love ur stuff fyi!!! 💚

Hello! Thank you for liking my stuff, I hope this is enjoyable to you as well! I think it would take the both of them quite a while to say it!

When do Valeria and Laswell Finally Say “I Love You”?

Valeria: It would take her a while to say it. I mean, once she’s with you, she’s already smitten, but she says “I love you” in different ways that aren’t just saying those three words. Valeria courts you with lots of gifts, that much is true, but the closest thing you’ll ever hear from her that resembles a “You have my heart, I love you more than the sun loves the moon, than the ocean loves the land” would be her spending a day with you where she isn’t spending copious amounts of money on you. But that’s not what you asked. Valeria will tell you that she loves you when you’re feeling insecure since she never says it, but on her own accord? It would likely be a year or longer into your relationship, on one of those nights where the two of you are lying in bed together, just talking about your lives, what you’ve been through and how it’s shaped you as people. Just venting your worries, voicing your appreciation for each other and how you’ve helped one another. It’s during such a night, when you’ve gone quiet for a moment, that Valeria would hold you close and tell you, in a voice softer than what you’re used to normally from her, that she loves you.

Laswell: Like Valeria, she shows her love for you through different means. While she may be a gift giver as well, she also shows you how much she loves you by doing anything you may or may not ask of her. From chores, to walking your pet, to cooking you some stew when you’re sick. Laswell doesn’t say that she loves you from the get go either, it would take her several months to a year for her to say it. But when she does, it doesn’t seem like a special moment to anyone else. You’re probably hanging up your freshly washed clothes while she’s sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in hand. Laswell would get up, give you a kiss on your cheek, and tell you that she loves you so very dearly. She was overcome with adoration for you during that moment and needed to show you that she loves you. It’s afterwards that you get a lot more I love yous from her. Not on the daily still, but they would be more common. She will always, and I mean always, accompany her I love yous with some form of affectionate gesture, regardless of whether it be a kiss to your temple, a hug from behind, or a small lovely rose she found in a flower shop. You will always be taken care of and loved.

#cod #cod x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #neither of them are too vocal when it comes to showing they love you but that's alright too #because one of them would watch the world burn down to warm you up with its flames #and the other one would break the world apart just to find you again in one of its crevices #they're not the most romantic people verbally but they'll always make sure that you feel loved and cared for #writing about the girls really makes me yearn for a girlfriend again!! where is my gf!!! I want one!!! #it's so sad that I've never met another lesbian irl either 😔 that is so sad I deserve a cute girl to hug in return for that #the yearning has been especially strong again as of late. especially since I saw a commission again yesterday #now I wish Valeria was way taller than me so she would look hot while looking down at me. but alas she's probably the same height as me #no amount of cute gir's love manga could ever cure my yearning I feel as though it's terminal 😔 #will I continue to be cringe in the tags? absolutely! I've got another request for one of the girls. a really fun one too #looking forward to writing that one! #I'm gonna post three times today so I can get out all the requests again and be left to me imagining giving a cute girl a hug

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i remember making a post once that was like. geto is a Father but he’s mommy. and kenny is a Mother but he’s daddy. and i just wanted to say it again bc i was so CORRECT wow

#IM JUST SAYING…. #kenny is Husband and geto is Wife :3 #but canonically geto is a Father and kenny is a Mother #idk i just love whatever gender fuckery they have going on i need them Both actually #been thinking a lot abt husband!kenny………… i need to write something for him soon phewww #he is so Peculiar #wants you to give him a welcome back hug every time he comes home from work but he never tells you to do it #he just Stares at you until you’re in his arms. and if you don’t do it he gets all weird 🤨 #he’s so off putting it’s crazy #(the difference here is that geto would Whine for his welcome back hug) #ari noises ✩ #kenny !! ✩

[dr3comebackera]

Daniel Ricciardo on his Zandvoort crash, surgery on his broken hand, recovery process, and return in Austin

Tom Clarkson: "Now you mentioned the elephant in the room, Zandvoort. FP2, Turn 3, what happened?"

Daniel Ricciardo: "I *awkward laugh*, I mean I obviously can remember it very clearly, since I didn't hit my head. Erm, but, so you come through, turn, I guess it's Turn 2, and it's over kind of a crest, but then you stay quite tight, because, then the line for 3, you ride the top of the banking. So you know, you're not taking a conventional racing line, so you're not like looking at the apex, you're looking at the top of the corner, pretty much. Like, as a driver, we're always looking ahead and normally like at the apex, but the way you exit 2, you then kind of look straight ahead and pick your braking point."

DR: "So at that point, I'd exited 2, I hadn't seen any yellows, nothing like that. And then by the time I've looked and braked, I then looked where I need to turn, and I see Oscar. This all happened so quickly, but I remember, I can, obviously I'm picturing it in my head now. So I remember, okay, the line we take is high and by this point I'd braked, so I'd already committed, so I knew the speed I was going. My only choice was to take the high line, but I could see his car was at the top of the track. So there wasn't enough room for me to pass through the high line. I'm going too fast to take a low line, so it was either, probably look like a real idiot and crash into him, or try and just slow the car as much as I can, and likely just crash into the barriers, which is what happened."

DR: "But yeah, because it was all, I guess I'm still trying to figure out what I'm going to do, by the time then I'd committed to just going straight, I hadn't then realized, 'okay, take your hands off the wheel.' And a lot of us still don't do it, because crashing is not natural. And it happens so quickly, because you don't plan to crash, so a lot of the time you don't kind of have, yeah, the time to be like, 'okay, I'm crashing, what do I need to do? Brace myself, okay, take my hands off the wheel.' Sometimes you just don't have the luxury of time."

DR: "So, that was it, I hit the wall. I've only watched one replay, but I just don't, I don't want to. Basically, when I've gone in, I'm pretty sure like the right front, it's just the angle, right, the right front would've grabbed the Tecpro [barrier] first, and then that's, like, pulled it in, so it's, it's like I've turned really hard right, the way obviously it's grabbed the wheel. So because the wheels then turned so quickly, I've basically lost grip, so it spun out of my hands, and the bottom of the [steering] wheel, which is pure, hard carbon, has then come up and basically karate chopped my hand."

DR: "So then, you've got the shock of the crash and then adrenaline, so I've come on the radio, and I'd, I think I'd been like, oh sorry, like I've crashed or something. And then, is he like 'oh, you alright?' or 'can you continue?' and I was like, 'no, the car is damaged.' And then, I could feel my hand, and I was like, 'ow, my hand, my hand.' And then I just, it started to, like the pain just went, obviously ramped up really, really quickly, and I feared that something was bad. So, as I'm, I wanted, I was like, 'I need to get my glove off, I need to get my glove off.' And as I'm pulling my glove off, I remember, I was thinking, *awkward huffy laugh*, I was like 'if there's a bone through the skin, I'm gonna pass out.' So that's all, I was just like 'please, please don't let me see anything gruesome.' I'm not good with this stuff, I'm sweating telling it, like I'm serious. I suck at this.

TC: "Have you broken a bone before?"

DR: "I broke my arm as a kid at school, throwing a tennis ball. Anyway, yeah, another very random accident, and I didn't need surgery, that was like a long, long healing process."

DR: "But yeah, so, alright, so I've pulled my glove off, and I, I could see it was already quite swollen, but no bone through the skin. I was like, 'okay.' But then the pain just got so bad, so as soon as I jumped into the medical car, I was *long pause* making a lot of noises, because I was in a lot of discomfort. So I knew that it was not good. I knew immediately, obviously, I wasn't going to race on the weekend. Like I didn't need a doctor to tell me. I feared it was a broken bone. I think the first thing that really kind of just made me sad, was I just had a very, very productive summer break. I felt really, really good physically, and I was just, yeah I was just ready to go. And this just felt like an unfortunate setback. But I was just more worried about surgery and all that, because I'm, again, I'm a bit of a wuss.

TC: "What happened next, I mean, you went down to Barcelona, to Dr. Xavier Mir, who is renowned in the MotoGP world, for mending those sort of breaks. I also think he was, didn't he help Lance Stroll earlier in the year as well?" "Yeah" "So who put you in touch with him, or did you know him already?"

DR: "So from the medical center, we went to the hospital there in Amsterdam. Got scans, and they're like, 'yeah, it's broken.' And by this point, it's the size, like, looked like an elephant stepped on my hand. The doctor there said, 'look, I would recommend surgery.' He's like, 'you can have it here, but you probably want to wait anyway a few days for the swelling to go down. Speak to whoever you need to speak to and obviously you can have your surgery wherever you want, I'm just going to give you my advice.' So then we reached out to Lance, we reached out to, well Jose, a friend of ours who works with Alpinestars, so he knows all the MotoGP guys, and he, he's Spanish as well, so he knows. So he, I think, put us into touch with Xavier Mir, and then, yeah, Lance was like 'go to him' as well. All signs were just pointing to, this guy's done this too many times, just go see him. Like, like don't even bother, just go there.

DR: "So it was, it was a blessing and a curse because, *laughs* he does a lot of MotoGP guys, who, are not human. They are not. It's fact, they are not. So, I think there's an expectation of me going in there, he's like 'oh, F1, MotoGP, same! Not human, don't feel pain.' 'No, doctor, I feel pain. I'm going to cry for the next 48 hours whilst I'm in this hospital.' So it was just funny, they, I think, you know, all the doctors and nurses and that who were helping me, and they were great, but I think they were, they were just quite, they would laugh a lot, because I would wince and pull away and ask questions every needle that went into my arm. Erm, so I think they just thought I would be tough like a MotoGP rider, but I am not."

TC: "I'm sure you were."

DR: "No, no, trust me, I'm not. The break itself was quite significant. It was a shatter, like it wasn't like, oh you just break it clean down the middle. I think it was in eight pieces or something. So it was also, for a bone that can be quite a simple one, it wasn't too pretty."

TC: "So it's your pinky that was being affected by it?" "Erm, well..." "On your left hand?"

DR: "It's like the outside of the hand. So that's the bone I broke, in between like the wrist and the pinky, like that knuckle. So like along the outside there. But even me just rubbing my finger over the top of my hand, hurt like crazy. Maybe I just feel pain more than others, I don't know. *laughs* But er, sorry, I just want to, just let's also say one thing. There was also the reality where, yes, I would moan and complain because I don't like the pain. But it was a broken hand, so there was also a part of me which was like, 'look, dude, yes you're in pain and it's going to be a bit of a process, but people have worse injuries, people have bigger accidents.' So don't get me wrong, I also tried to reality check myself through it all, and I think that's what made me quite, like remain quite positive."

TC: "You missed five races, you came back for Austin. Was there any talk of you getting back earlier, maybe for Qatar?"

DR: "So I knew, I was doing physio every day, and I was, I was doing what I could to come back as soon as possible. But I also wanted to make sure, and I think, you know, Red Bull/Alpha Tauri were really good with this, I wasn't fighting for a world championship, like it's not like, dude you need to just drive through immense pain and just get a point, you know because this is your titles on the line. Like it was, let's make sure you do this and heal properly, and get the right treatment, because also you've got, hopefully a second part of your career which is going to be long and glorious. So it was just, don't compromise anything that you then have a bum hand for the next two years of your career, three years, whatever. So it was good, I could just do it properly."

DR: "Qatar was talked about, I went on the sim the week of Qatar, on the Monday, but I couldn't, er, yet, drive with the full force of the steering, like so we would like bring the feedback down. Er, I just couldn't grip it and do more than like two laps at full strength. So it was very clear that Qatar was out of the question, and also for me to come back and like, yeah, I don't know, not drive at my best and then, no, that no one benefits. I don't benefit, the team doesn't. So er, it was that, at that point we're like, let's just go all in for Austin and make sure I'm good for that."

TC: "And Liam was doing a decent job as well"

DR: "Exactly, he was doing well and there was also, I think Red Bull were great to give me a contract whilst I was injured, to give me a contract for next year. So I, I had that-"

TC: "That was very significant, wasn't it?" "Yeah" "They actually signed you long-term when you were on the sidelines?"

DR: "Yeah, there's so much about being back in the Red Bull family this year that's felt good and right, and I think that was such a, yeah just such like a big thing for them to do that. I think obviously it showed they have a lot of faith in me. It also put to bed if anyone was like, 'oh you know, is there still any issues from their previous relationship years ago? Like is there any carryover tension or whatever?' Like, for them to do that, I think it was very much like, he's our kid and we're going to support him because we believe in him and- So that was really nice."

TC: "So you come back for Austin, and were there any ill effects there? Because I mean, that's a quick track, sector one in particular."

DR: "Er, no, like in, in short no. Erm, I think the race, I got into it quickly and, and, and I was actually honestly expecting more pain in Austin. I was expecting like every kind of bump or kerb I'd hit would be like 'ow, ow, ow.' But it was okay, and erm, I think it was just an endurance I needed to build so like, towards the end of the race, I could feel like my grip strength was maybe not as good as at the start of the race. But honestly, I was, I was fine. And I think that was another thing, I didn't want to get back into a race and then be like, 'yeah I could have done better, but you know, my hand was not up to full strength.' Or like, I was like, this can't be an excuse, and it wasn't, so it was all good."

TC: "And Daniel, you were never going to miss Austin, right?"

DR: "No, I couldn't. I would've loved the result to be better, but no, I couldn't miss Austin.

TC: "The track, the place"

DR: "Yeah, yeah. I love it."

#daniel ricciardo #f1 #i've listened to this beyond the grid podcast a few times now and i just need everyone to hear/read this part #he gives so many details about everything that happened including all the pain he felt :( #very much would like to give him a hug #also the broken arm/throwing a tennis ball story is crazy too #he talked about it in another video #i think a red bull on the sofa end of year video #and he said it snapped random because he had a medical issue (but didn't know about it) where his bone had been weakening over time #and it just hit its limit and snapped that day when we went to throw a tennis ball back to some classmates #also i forced myself to change all his ums and uhs and curb to the way he would spell them #i wanted this to be in his voice lol #dutch grand prix 2023 #dutch gp 2023 #zandvoort #daniel and his broken hand #the image of him crying in the medical car and hospital makes me sad :(

[melodiousoblivionao3]

Also can we just send some love to Kristie rn😭Samantha June retiring, which is obviously very emotional. Samantha May doing her ACL. Brand new club and living in a new country. Girlie has a lot going on rn.

#kristie mewis #I just want to give them all hugs #sam mewis #sam kerr #woso

[bulkhummus]

uses carlos to convey the woes of unanticipated touch verses familiar and wanted touch

#some messy sketches to soothe the itch #my boss is v sweet but she always taps my shoulder at work to get my attention #so btwn that and strangers just randomly touching my hair bc its curly #(which happened twice today ) #i was like Enough #anyways i think carlos is very aware of his space and how he interscts with people #he doesnt like sudden an impromptu touches #all the people who work at his lab know this and do their best to accomodate #and steve always asks now before he gives huge hugs #etc etc #i love carlos sooooooo much #ive been wanting to do a comic where him and cecil talk about boundaries — i have one from 4ever ago post DOW #in my brain #ngl them being implied to use handcuffs in da bedroom is like.. using kink to accomodate carlos’ need to be able to pull away yknow? #like the color system is So Good for being able to say hey lets stop or maybe not like that without having to verbalize so much in the momen #yknow #wtnv #welcome to night vale #cecilos #cecil palmer #carlos the scientist #night vale #art tag #wips

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Elastic Heart Ch 7 (Linked Universe story)

Summary: When Sky goes missing, the Chain scrambles to figure out where he is and what happened before it's too late.

(AO3 link)

First

<<Previous // Next>>

Hyrule Castle hardly felt like the safest place for any of the Links given most of their adventures, but it was as good a place to regroup and heal as any other. Although the entire group was well aware that the knights were useless, and the whispers of nobility hung close over their shoulders, the queen gave them as much privacy as possible and lent her best healers to their cause.

The next twenty-four hours were a somber affair. The heroes kept vigil at the beds of their fallen friends. When they weren’t fretting over them, they were wandering aimlessly, too forlorn for words and too anxious for rest.

It was late into the night after their return from the desert, and Time was staring into a fire contemplatively, his mind still trying to process everything. Twilight had already eased him out of his armor, which had been silently hidden until it could be cleaned of Sky’s blood. Somehow, despite all his experience, Time still seemed to be the least functional when someone was this injured.

How was it that in the span of four weeks he’d almost lost two of his boys? He still hadn’t figured out what had led to this, why Sky had been so terrified, so insistent that they leave, why he’d been apologizing with his dying breath.

There was just… so much. All of it was too much. The Shadow, Sky, all of it. Why had the Shadow taken his form and then spoken such words about Sky creating him? Was that why Sky had been so concerned with eliminating it himself? Some words about a curse, lies hissed between demonic teeth about how Sky had somehow made this mess?

Goddesses above… what had that thing convinced Sky? No matter what had started this… surely Sky wasn’t blaming himself for it?

That had to be the issue. Sky, sweet and soft, always in the background until he decided it was time to cause a little mischief… the boy had always been the least of Time’s concerns when it came to causing actual trouble. He’d always seemed the calmest, the most put together, the least traumatized, the most normal. Between that and his adoration for a sword Time would rather see at the bottom of Lake Hylia, the boy had never really been someone that Time had to keep a close eye on.

Yet here he’d been, taking on the weight of their journey himself and trying to leave the others behind. He’d nearly gotten himself killed for it.

Time had assumed the position of leader in this group and he’d nearly failed in recognizing when one of its members was in desperate need of help.

How long had Sky been spiraling like this? What had led him to this point? Had the Shadow spoken to him on the night he’d taken watch? Had it started before then? Did he blame himself for Twilight’s injury as well? What else was he hiding? What curse had the Shadow been talking about?

Time heard footsteps, and he turned to see the veteran walking morosely through the room, pointedly ignoring his leader. Twilight stood at the entranceway to the room sectioned off for their two fallen brothers, arms crossed as he watched Legend leave. When Time’s eye met his own, he said, “Finally convinced him to go to bed.”

“How are you holding up?” Time found himself asking before he could stop himself. He was worried for all of them, especially his descendant, who naturally took others’ wellbeing and protection as his own personal responsibility. They were all heroes, they all felt that burden, but his Ordonian made it his life’s mission to protect his loved ones far more than anyone else.

Not to mention Time had been doing a terrible job of checking in on anyone.

Twilight sighed tiredly. “I… would feel better if I were the one in the bed. It’s way worse just being the one helplessly looking on.”

Time would rather not relive the events of a month ago, but he knew what Twilight meant. It was the worst feeling in the world, being a child of destiny, someone who was so used to fixing all the problems, and being stuck in a situation where there was absolutely nothing to do.

“I know,” Time said simply, resting a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“Cap’s still in there,” Twilight said quietly, eyes looking at the ground as his own emotions got the better of him. “I managed to get the rest out. Vet was the last.”

Time hadn’t even been in there since their arrival. Warriors hadn’t left the boys’ side. It was almost as if their positions were reversed from the last time. He wasn’t sure he should be happy about it or not. He felt almost guilty for not hovering the same way, but he’d been fairly useless last time. It would be better if he could actually help the others as Warriors had, but he’d spent the majority of the day in a daze, guided around by Twilight, who had taken the captain’s role in guiding and leading everyone else.

What an insane week this turned out to be.

“Get some sleep,” Time finally said, patting Twilight’s cheek affectionately before lowering his hand.

Twilight watched him uncertainly, biting his lip and nodding. He walked by without another word. The eldest Link took a steadying breath, heading into the room.

It was a fairly small chamber, with both beds’ headboards against the same wall. Time saw Warriors asleep in the chair between the two, scooted a little closer to Hyrule’s bed. The captain was dressed down in his undertunic and pants, scarf and armor set aside in his own quarters. Time pulled an extra blanket that was folded by the bedside and wrapped it gently around his fellow hero. Despite his attempt to be gentle, the captain stirred, one of the lightest sleepers in the group, and turned bleary eyes towards his elder.

“Go to bed,” Time said softly. “I’ll watch them.”

Frazzled and exhausted, Warriors let out a weary exhale, rubbing his face. Time thought better of his dismissal, recalling that the captain had checked in on him in the past, that he himself had just checked in on Twilight. He shouldn’t brush off the man just because he held himself together better than anyone else.

“It’ll… be all right,” he tried to reassure the man hesitantly.

Warriors stiffened, shoulders shaking, much to Time’s alarm. However, instead of sobs, he heard an amused snort. The captain looked up, eyes exhausted but somewhat alight. “You’re really not good at this whole emotional support thing, are you?”

Despite his own mood, Time found himself scowling mildly. “That bad?”

“Your tone isn’t reassuring at all.”

“I’m not used to saying things that…”

“That you don’t believe?” Warriors finished for him. “Me neither. That’s why I try distraction instead.”

Time huffed, looking between the two sleeping boys. They both looked so peaceful now. Not pale, not on death’s door, not desperate or begging for forgiveness.

He sighed heavily as his gaze returned to the captain. Not recognizing he was under scrutiny, Warriors had let his expression be more open, fear and worry pulling at him. He looked so damn tired. He’d seen this too many times. Time himself had seen the expression when Twilight had been dying.

Warriors was far more accustomed to this than any of them. And Time hated that.

The captain shifted to get up, but then he paused, staring at the bed. Time followed his gaze, watching with sudden intensity as their esteemed traveler scrunched his nose and twisted in bed a little, eyes fluttering open.

“Traveler? Link?” Warriors leaned forward alongside Time, his hand gently reaching for Hyrule’s shoulder.

The Hero of Hyrule blinked a few times, seeming to register his surroundings, and then he gasped, practically leaping into a seated position. Time immediately sat on the bed just as Warriors jumped forward, both placing steadying hands on the teenager’s shoulders.

“Sky!” Hyrule immediately exclaimed, squirming under their hold.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Warriors insisted, putting a second hand on the boy’s chest. “He’s here.”

Hyrule paused, panting for air, eyes wide and wild, before they settled on the pair. “He’s okay?”

Time and Warriors exchanged a look before the leader spoke. “He’s here.”

Hyrule huffed, eyes wet, and then he laughed shakily, tucking his knees into his chest. “I—I thought—I thought he—I—”

He laughed again, more nervous than before, entire body trembling. Warriors settled on the mattress beside him, arm wrapping around his shoulders carefully. Hyrule wasn’t the most comfortable with touch and usually didn’t engage in it, and neither Warriors nor Time were particularly cuddly men, but after everything, they all felt the need to stick close to each other. The traveler leaned into the hold, tears trailing down his cheeks as he continued to chuckle, his breaths quickly accelerating into something akin to panic and relief, a conglomeration of emotions crashing out of him in a fashion that he couldn’t control. Warriors held him tighter.

“We’re glad you’re alright,” Time said softly, his thumb tracing across the boy’s collarbone. “You scared us back there.”

��Yeah, what with the Triforce and all,” Warriors piped up, squeezing Hyrule a little more tightly as he smiled. “You sure did have quite the trick up your sleeve.”

Hyrule’s tearful relief evaporated in an instant, eyes widening with alarm. Time felt his own concern rise – did the boy not remember using it?

“It’s okay,” Time assured him. “We’re all heroes here, Traveler. We’ve borne pieces of the Triforce as well. I just didn’t realize one among us had carried the entire sacred relic. That’s quite an honor.”

“R-right,” Hyrule mumbled, looking at his knees.

“How are you feeling?” Warriors asked, brushing past the distressing topic.

“Where’s the Triforce?” Hyrule countered.

The elder pair glanced at each other again before answering honestly. “We… don’t know. It vanished once you’d finished using it.”

Hyrule watched them a moment, still and silent. Then he buried his head into his knees.

“We’ll find it,” Warriors assured him. “One way or another. Such an artifact stretches far beyond our understanding – it might have returned to your era.”

“I—I didn’t want him to die,” Hyrule said in a trembling voice.

“We know,” Time soothed gently, sliding his hand along Hyrule’s back. “We didn’t want that either.”

Hyrule glanced up at him, cheeks stained with tears once more. “He’s okay, right?”

Time swallowed. Sky remained quiet in the other bed. He pushed lightly on the teenager. “Get some sleep, Link.”

XXX

It was the middle of the night when Legend finally gave up on sleeping.

His mind was whirling too much. Watching Sky basically die right in front of him, watching Hyrule nearly kill himself with the effort to wish him back with the Triforce…

It had been entirely too familiar.

He thought he’d gotten passed that. He thought he’d learned to keep moving in spite of the shadows cast over him by his journeys.

Clearly he’d been wrong.

So the young hero, a veteran of more adventures than any of the others individually, found himself incapable of handling the situation. And he hated that.

Legend wandered the castle, ignoring the cold and uninviting stone all around him. His feet guided him back to the room they’d set aside for Hyrule and Sky. The candle in his hand flickered slightly at the draft in the cavernous antechamber, chilled now that the fire in the large hearth had mostly died down.

When he slowly opened the door, he wasn’t surprised to see someone holding vigil. Time glanced up to meet his gaze.

“Just wanted to check on them,” he said dully, not bothering to hide his reasoning. This felt so different from when Twilight had been injured – Hyrule had been in there constantly trying to heal him. They’d avoided the area to let him concentrate. It had been awful, but at least there’d been a thread of hope to work with. It wasn’t as if there weren’t healers here, but the words they’d been given were little comfort.

They’d needed rest. There was nothing else they could do.

No potion could heal someone who couldn’t drink it. No spell could be cast when the one who knew the spells was the one who was unconscious. And so they’d all just done the last thing they could do, the only thing they could do.

They kept them company.

They kept them company, and Legend simmered with grief, guilt, and unresolved emotions from so many years ago that he didn’t even know how to put words to them.

Time pat the empty chair beside him welcomingly. Legend was thankful for the invitation, thankful that there were no questions being asked. He shuffled over to the chair, watching Sky sleep before his eyes drifted to Hyrule next.

“Our traveler woke up earlier,” Time said quietly.

Legend turned to him, eyes wide. “He did?”

“Yes. I think he’ll be alright with some more rest.”

Thank the goddesses, he thought. He didn’t remember the Triforce being so draining, but Hyrule had used it to augment his magic and grant a wish, so perhaps it worked differently than it had for Legend all those years ago.

Time’s words hung in the air, and then there was silence. Legend’s candle held steady against the darkness, illuminating his face, but he had no words to offer. For a moment, as he watched Sky, it felt like he was holding vigil over a body, a mourner lost in time, adrift in a different Hyrule altogether, grieving the loss of someone who was equally displaced and wholly forgotten to this era.

His breath hitched in his throat. He swallowed hard.

The silence seemed suffocating, but he had nothing to say. Time shifted uncomfortably beside him, clearly trying to find the right words. Legend didn’t care.

Sky. Sky had… just like…

There was usually something to distract him at this point, some task he had to accomplish that made him move forward despite the emotions dragging him down. But this felt like the end of a journey, after his first one or after Koholint, where there was nothing left but the emptiness in his chest, the fresh wounds on his heart. He had no road to travel on, no home to go back to, no Zelda to talk to.

He just stared at Sky.

“I have confidence that the Triforce healed the worst of it,” Time said. “Though I do not know if he will fully recover—”

“He died,” Legend interrupted.

“Veteran… he’s right here. He’s alive.”

“No,” Legend said firmly, feeling his throat tighten. He swallowed hard to fight it. “No. You don’t get it. None of you gets it. He didn’t just get hurt, he didn’t just fall. He died.”

They didn’t understand. They didn’t realize why they felt the way they did. Even he couldn’t truly comprehend it, but he knew why. He knew because it had happened before.

“The Triforce brought him back,” Legend explained. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he died. He died and none of you get that, he died, he died—”

Legend didn’t know when he’d lost the battle with his voice, when the tears had started to leak out, when the words had devolved into pathetic sobs, an admittance to a grief that he’d carried with him for years, a fresh wound and terror and horror that had ingrained itself into his soul.

Sky was one of his dearest friends. And he’d died.

He couldn’t even be angry at the Shadow, couldn’t even be curious as to what its words had meant, couldn’t even be worried about why Sky had left in the first place. All he felt was utter and absolute grief and loss.

Because Sky had died. They’d had to resurrect him. The others were caught in a confused haze of worry and fear, as if they were just watching an injured brother instead of acknowledging what had actually happened, instead of realizing that they should be mourning too.

Legend’s cries grew louder, inadvertently waking Hyrule. He didn’t notice. He couldn’t see it through his tears, through the darkness that engulfed him when Time pulled him into a hug.

XXX

Sky didn’t wake the next morning when Hyrule did. The others celebrated seeing one of their brothers slowly recovering, but the mood was certainly dampened by a lack of progress from their most injured. Wild found purpose in nourishing Hyrule back to health while Warriors started to fall into a field medic mode of sorts. Sky’s comatose state still necessitated care, though it brought a morbid curiosity in Wild – after all, he’d been in a similar state for a century.

Clearly the Shrine of Resurrection worked its magic to help sustain him. Sky had no such luck. His body still functioned as if he were awake, requiring sustenance, removing waste. He needed to be fed and cleaned, to be moved so he wouldn’t get bed sores, to be prodded to see if there was a reaction. It was a morbid affair, and it made Wild uneasy. He’d only been asleep for two days and it already felt like a century in itself.

Wild found it too disturbing to watch. Instead, he helped the others. He felt like he had to pull his weight somehow, had to blink the images of Sky’s broken body in Time’s arms. Hyrule slowly improving was something they could all latch on to. Warriors never seemed to leave Sky’s room, and Twilight spent a fair amount of time in there as well alongside Time. Occasionally Legend and Four assisted, but Wind was kept away, as well as Hyrule. Wild just couldn’t stomach the sight of the care his beloved friend needed. Whenever any of the boys lamented the situation, however, Legend would firmly and adamantly say that Sky was going to be fine.

It was strange, how confident he was. But with all his experiences, Wild had to wonder if he knew something of the matter. He latched on to the hope nonetheless. It seemed silly not to hope in a recovery, given his own history, but, well… that had taken a while. Sky didn’t have a century.

As the sun set on the second day, however, worry began to hover over them like a cloud heavy laden with an oncoming rain. After all, there was no way they could nourish Sky if he didn’t wake up.

“He’ll wake up,” Legend insisted when Four pointed this out.

“Assuming he does, that still doesn’t address the biggest issue,” Four sighed. “What if… what if when he wakes up, he tries to leave again?”

“He wouldn’t!” Wind argued.

“How do you know?” Four fired back. “He’d been running from us the entire time!”

Wild watched the exchange warily. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t wondered what had caused all of this in the first place, but it honestly hadn’t crossed his mind that it could happen again. He felt Hyrule shift uncomfortably beside him, and he turned his attention to his exhausted brother.

“You don’t think he wanted to leave us, do you?” Hyrule asked him quietly.

Words latched on to the champion’s brain, having first hooked in his mind when he’d heard them two days ago.

You don’t realize how terribly you failed.

This entire journey, Wild had been the failure of the group. Hearing those words had made him think the Shadow had been addressing him when he’d known, he’d known that it had been addressing Sky. But what failure was Sky responsible for? He hadn’t done anything wrong. Unless, of course, the Shadow was simply talking about Sky’s pursuit of it. But… Sky’s frantic attempts to argue, to silence it…

“No,” Wild answered distantly. “I don’t think he wanted to leave us.”

XXX

“It’s been two hours; we should move him.”

“I can do it.”

“No, it’s all right. You carried him last time. I’ll do it.”

What? What was… what?

Link felt impossibly heavy. His half-addled brain wondered if he’d become a sword spirit like Fi, made entirely of metal.

He was lying on something soft, he knew that much. He felt like he was sinking into it so much that he would never be able to get out.

Except he was getting out of it. Or, well, floating out of it. Flying? Was he flying?

Warmth wrapped around his back and shoulders, around the back of his knees. Two grounding forces, holding him steady in a vast expanse of nothing. He felt himself dangling and shifting in rhythmic motions.

Distant voices grew closer as the sound of creaking wood emitted beneath him in shuffles.

“Don’t spill it!”

“Oh, quit your fussing, Vet! Here, Traveler, just drink slowly. We kept it warm for you.”

“Are you guys done arguing? I have a story to finish!”

Grumbles. Sighing.

“Go on, Sailor.” That voice rumbled, buzzing in Sky’s ear with the warmth of a hearth and accompanied by a gentle heartbeat.

“So there I was, thirty bokoblins between me and my goal—”

“Oh boy, they multiplied again,” a voice remarked dryly.

“What are you talking about?”

Sailor. Sailor? What?

Link tried to focus, but he was being lulled back to sleep by gentle sways as if he were laying on a hammock on Skyloft.

“It seems each time you tell it more bokoblins appear.” There was that rumbling tone again, waking Link slightly, relaxing him and drawing him into a trance. It was so familiar…

There was a decidedly annoyed huff in reply. “Hey, I know what I’m talking about! Anyway, so there were fifty bokoblins between me and—”

Link finally pried an eye open. Then he blearily tried to do it with his other eye. Everything was so blurry.

The hammock he was on continued to sway gently. Back and forth. Back and forth.

“That’s impossible and you know it, Sailor!”

“Nuh uh, that’s what happened—”

“Sky?”

The swaying stopped, jostling Link out of his relaxed state a little more. He tried to look up, but he couldn’t muster the strength. However, his perception was finally piecing together an image in his brain, and he belatedly realized he was not, in fact, lying on a hammock.

Someone was carrying him.

Someone was carrying him, and the sailor was here. But not just the sailor. He recognized all their voices.

“Sky, can you hear me?”

The rumbling from before returned. The gentle, steady heartbeat had increased a little. Who was carrying him? Link tried again with all his might to move his head, to tip it back just enough to see above, to identify who was holding him. It definitely wasn’t the captain; the voice was deeper than his. That just left Time and Twilight.

It had to be Twilight, then. The man was freakishly strong, and Time would never—

“Here—move this—put him here, old man.”

Huh?

Link felt his world move as the person carrying him—Time—took a few steps forward. There was scrambling and shuffling of items, hushed whispers and excited laughs. Link felt something somewhat hard and warm rise up to meet his back as he was laid on top of something, and his head settled on someone’s lap.

A hand gently brushed his bangs out of his eyes before settling on his chest, giving it a soft pat. With his head facing towards the ceiling, he saw eight faces slowly come into focus, all encircling him like flower petals around its center.

He drank in the sight, having missed his friends so much. Twilight was the one his head was resting on, the one who had a hand on his chest and a reassuring, gentle smile directly over him. Time stood behind Twilight, a hand on the rancher’s shoulder, also watching him, though his expression was less warm and more concerned. To Link’s left were Legend, who quickly placed a hand on Link’s shoulder, Wind, who was smiling so brightly he outshone the sunlight, and Warriors, who had both hands on Wind’s shoulders as he leaned over to see Link more clearly. Hyrule sat a distance away towards Link’s feet, with Wild directly beside him and holding him steadily in a side hug, his face beaming. To his right, Four’s smile was genuine and trembling, his eyes glistening with tears. Link managed to get the muscles in his face to cooperate, and he gave a weak smile.

The group let out a collective sigh of relief, and then laughter echoed in the air. Link was bombarded by voices competing for his attention.

“We were so worried—”

“Our Traveler nearly killed himself to get you better, we thought we were going to lose both of you!”

“We missed you so much, Sky—”

“We really thought you were a goner! Like seriously, Vet was crying—”

“I was not crying!!”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Everyone hushed at the question issued by Twilight. Link watched them all, his smile fading alongside his energy. He took a deep breath, trying to piece everything together, his mind still too slow to process it all, and Twilight patted his chest again.

“It’s okay if you’re too tired to talk,” Twilight said softly. “We got you out of bed so you wouldn’t get bed sores, but now that you’re waking up, maybe it’ll be okay?”

Here Twilight directed his attention to Warriors, seeming to ask him if it would, in fact, be all right. The captain ruffled Wind’s hair, making the sailor giggle and step aside, and he drew closer to Link and Twilight. “Mostly. If he’s too weak to move, we’ll still need to do it for him.”

Link could hardly put anything together. But one sentence suddenly burned in his mind, registering and making him try to bolt into a seated position. His body refused to obey, and he barely had curled into his abdomen before his head flopped back on Twilight’s lap with a grunt.

“Easy, Sky,” Twilight soothed gently, pulling Link onto his lap completely with strong grips under his arms. Link settled his head against the elder’s shoulder, gasping for air at the exertion. “It’s okay. We’ll take care of you.”

“T-Traveler…” Link managed to scrape out, his heart racing.

Hyrule shuffled closer, sitting on whatever object Link had just been lying on earlier. He reached a shaking hand out to the Skyloftian, squeezing his upper arm. “I’m here, Sky. You’re okay.”

His grip felt so incredibly weak, even to Link’s addled mind. He felt his stomach drop.

He’d made it worse. Somehow, he’d made it worse. Hyrule had almost died because of him.

“I’m s-sorry,” he stammered, his eyes stinging with tears, his mind berating himself over and over and over.

“Sorry?” Hyrule repeated, confused. “Sorry for what?”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Twilight reassured him, his gentle voice relaxing Link’s body, even if his mind continued to whirl.

“Sky, we’re just happy you’re alive,” Four said quickly. “Please don’t—don’t try to do anything. Just stay here. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“N-no,” Link protested weakly. “I—I need—I—it’s my—I can’t—”

His entire world shifted as Twilight lifted him into his arms and stood. “Shh, it’s okay, Sky. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

Despite his complete exhaustion, Link almost wanted to snap. He wasn’t a child, damn it. He had to tell them, he had to make them realize it was best to leave him here, he could recover on his own and then he could hunt—

Wait.

“Shadow?” he asked quietly.

“He escaped, as he always does,” Time said from somewhere to Twilight’s right. “He’s a coward.”

“Yeah, but the Old Man left him with a pretty good parting gift!” Wind piped in. “Arrow to the chest! And Champion got one in his eye too!”

Link wilted in Twilight’s arms. The Shadow was still alive, and he hadn’t even been able to land any meaningful hits on him. The others had to come rescue him. The others, who bore the brunt of his own stupidity and weakness, and who continued to do so.

He was too tired for this. Too weak to hold back his brittle mind and body’s reaction. Too spent to care that he was suddenly weeping.

It just wasn’t fair. Why did they have to suffer for him? Why couldn’t he get this right?! How did he just keep compounding upon his failure?!

“Sky, what’s wrong? It’s okay, we’re all okay, the Shadow didn’t get anyone except for you.” Wild hastily said as Twilight hesitated in lowering him, instead opting to sway back and forth calmingly.

He felt someone card their hand through his hair and wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Hey, it’s okay, Sky. Everyone’s safe, and so are you.”

Warriors’ words were both a blessing and a curse. Link was eternally grateful everyone was fine, but this just wasn’t right.

“I—I s-should’ve—should’ve—”

“Link.”

He snapped out his stuttering, surprised at hearing his own name for the first time in ages. He had long since stopped viewing himself as part of the group, but he’d been remiss to throw his name out for the world to hear when he’d realized he was in Twilight’s Hyrule.

“No one is expecting you to eliminate the Shadow by yourself,” Time said firmly. “We wouldn’t all be here if that was the case. Whatever has convinced you to think you should handle this alone, it’s wrong.”

The room suddenly exploded into sound, cutting off whatever argument Link might have had.

“Wait, you wanted to take on the Shadow alone?!”

“Sky, are you insane, I thought you were one of the smarter ones in our group, what the actual hell—”

“The goddesses wouldn’t bring us all together if we could take the Shadow by ourselves!”

“You could have gotten yourself killed, Sky, what were you thinking?”

“Enough,” Time interrupted the group. “Let him rest.”

Link felt himself being lowered onto the bed, and the blankets were tucked all the way to his chin. He saw the group surrounding the bed worriedly, some looking more annoyed than others, some looking scared, and some hurt and bewildered.

Link sniffled helplessly.

Wind immediately jumped into the bed, kicking off his shoes and snuggling in beside him. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Everyone agreed with words that Link didn’t bother to discern, and he felt Wind tuck himself neatly in between his right side and arm, resting his head on his shoulder. Link suddenly felt sore, but he didn’t protest.

“Aryll loves cuddling when she’s scared or hurting or doesn’t feel good,” Wind whispered with a smile. “I figured you didn’t want to be alone.”

Link couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. He bit back another apology in lieu of letting the sailor have a chance to help, and he closed his eyes, resting his cheek on Wind’s forehead and closing his eyes.

The world grew warm and heavy. Exhaustion pulled at him, allowing him to settle back into sleep, but just before its gentle embrace could take him, his mind jolted back to—

Bleeding. He was bleeding so much. A bone deep exhaustion dragged his mind away, but he clung desperately. This was a different kind of tired, a far too permanent sleep beckoning him.

“S-Shadow…”

He had to know. He had to be sure.

“He’s gone,” Time said. “He’s gone.”

He… he did it?

He did it. They were safe. They were safe.

He felt tears sting in his eyes, his heart fluttering. His mission was… over.

He’d finally eliminated Demise.

He laughed, he laughed in relief. His brothers would no longer be haunted by that demon. He couldn’t eliminate the wounds of the past, but he could prevent any in the future.

“What were you thinking?” he heard Time whisper.

It didn’t matter now, whether they knew or not. But he still… he still felt obligated to say it. “M-making… amends…”

He could never truly make up for everything. But at least now he could…

He could rest. Goddess, he could rest.

I’m sorry Zelda, he thought. He apologized to her over and over, to Groose and to all his friends on Skyloft.

He knew. In his heart, he knew.

This was his last mission.

“I’m… sorry,” he said aloud before directing the apology at those around him. Because he knew he was leaving them too, and he knew he would never get a chance to truly apologize for all the harm he’d caused. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry…

The darkness pulled, and he drowned in it.

Link’s eyes snapped open. He’d—goddess, he’d—how—

Hyrule. He—he must have—

“Why?” he asked quietly, his voice little more than a whine.

“Hm…?” Wind perked up, already groggy, but his eyes were sharp as he looked at Link. “What’s wrong?”

Link couldn’t let this out on their youngest. But he couldn’t stop his raw emotions either, and before he knew it he was crying again. “Why?”

Wind watched him, eyes suddenly far older than they had any right to be. The boy held a gentleness and understanding to him, a sympathy and sorrow that intermingled, and he leaned down to hold him tightly.

“Because we love you, Sky.”

Sky fell apart completely, sobbing in his brother’s shirt.

#writing #elastic heart #linkeduniverse #linked universe #I... don't know how I feel about Time's POV :-/ #I felt pretty good about Legend's as the point of his uncle's death and resurrection being very similar jammed itself into my brain #but... flow of this chapter... ehhh #oh well whatever just take it #I'm pretty ok with it overall #lu sky #all the boys #Warriors is not ok but he'll act it #I kind of want to address him too but I'm tired lol #somebody give Wars a hug for me #give ALL of them a hug for me #poor Legend #and Time #and just yeah #all of them

[alecz-obssesionz]

(((OOC: On Pale King in your Modern AU. Is he still alive or is he dead like in the video game?)))

◇ Yes! He is alive but doesn't live with his kids anymore... I got the idea and made this little comic about that matter^^ Kinda late but here finally!

🥀 | MODERN AU - Bringing him up | 🥀

#pre relationship grollow #I PU A LOT OF EFFORD ON THIS OK #PUT** #I appreciate all the support the modern au has gotten I just want ya to have quality content #I'll finally respond the asks I have a little more time #yes I like to give them dif clothes everytime #still their main fits are on the refs #every note is a hug for Hollie #Hornet cares she really does but Hollow will still deny everything for their family's sakw #pure vessel x grimm #the hollow knight x grimm #hollow knight #hk #alecz'makingz #pure vessel #troupe master grimm #grimm #grollow #the hollow knight #hornet #modern au #hollow knight modern au