#and enjoy it?’ bc it had like a FANDOM and I didn’t *get* what was going on

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi,

Could I perhaps request GP!Donna x maid in a situation loosely similar to Donna and Mihaela from your fic but not quite. Basically reader is Donna’s maid(not bc of Miranda just a normal maid) and they both catch feelings and get kind of together in the sense that they are lovers but haven’t quite spoken about what they mean to each other. Reader has a kid by Donna and starts to feel insecure as the months go by…….who exactly are they in her life? Maid? Lover? Spouse? Co-parent? Dalliance?

Feel free to ignore and hope you have a great day!

(PS really love your fic and other oneshots)

YesYesYes!!! You're the first one to request me something about this fandom!!! Thank you very much!! Have you enjoyed my fic? Oh, that's great! Thank you again, your words lift my spirit! <3 Here it is!! I hope you like it, and I hope this is what you wanted!!! Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Thank you again!!! :)))))

What am I to you?

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Maid! Reader

Warnings: Angst, insecurities, slightly implied smut, G!P Donna, they have a baby,

Word count: 5,161 (sorry if it's too long)

Summary: You have to work, it's the only way to take care of yourself in that village. Then, you met her, a strange woman that has a thing for hidding her feelings as well as her face...

N/A: Again, sorry about the language mistakes!! Requests are open!! I love you all :))))

Some people say that fate is inevitable, that from the moment you are born, you have a purpose in life, a marked path that you must follow, that you will do it even if you don't want to, even if you don't even realize it.

Surely the people who said that nonsense didn’t live in that village.

Even though when you were little you dreamed of the day you would leave that place, that leaving there would be your fate, it didn't take you long to realize that you were wrong.

The years passed and you grew up, seeing how the world around you remained the same. There was no future. Sometimes you thought that time didn't even pass in that place.

For a 20-year-old girl like you, there was no way out. Your parents already had too much trouble raising chickens to feed you and your siblings. Praying to Mother Miranda was not enough to guarantee even something as basic as your survival.

If you didn't want to spend the rest of your life serving an unwanted husband, you had to do something.

What was the only thing a young woman like you could do in that place to feel fulfilled? So you don't have to get married? To serve.

Not to serve an ungrateful man whom you didn’t love, but to serve those people who were above you, the lords.

Like any girl who grew up in that place, you had heard horrible things about all of them. They were like scary stories to tell by the light of a campfire. You never really knew how much truth and fantasy there was in those stories.

“What do you want, young lady?” The lady of the castle, Alcina Dimitrescu, asked.

The legends always erred on the side of exaggeration. You had knocked politely on the doors of her castle, as you knew several of your friends had done. You were no worse, or clumsier than them. It wouldn't be difficult for you to become just another maid in that place.

“Mm...” She murmured when you finished exhibiting all your qualities, which were not few. “You certainly impress me…. What did you say your name was?”

“(Y/N),” you said, sure of yourself, but trembling with fear at being in that castle.

“(Y/N)...” The lady in white sighed, “I would like you to be my maid, but…”

“But?” You repeated immediately, scared by that reaction.

“You see, lately my maids are having room problems. I know it seems like a poor excuse, after all the castle is big but... Believe me, it's not.”

The disappointment was visible on your face. If your childhood friend, the one who even didn't know how to read, had managed to work in the castle, why you not?

“Surely you don't want to spend all day cleaning and taking care of my needs and then have to sleep with two roommates in a tiny bed, right?”

“No, my lady,” you responded with a sigh, bowing your head.

“It's a shame, you're gorgeous...” Alcina whispered, with a listless smile on her face. “But hey, maybe I have something for you. There may be someone who needs a maid...”

After that, she sent you to the house of another of the lords, Donna Beneviento.

No one you knew had worked for her. Well, you had heard that she had a gardener, a man you used to see often at church. One day, he disappeared, you never saw him again.

You hoped that the things they said about that woman were nonsense, and that that gardener was still out there somewhere. You were only fooling yourself, you knew better.

“Who are you? What do you want?” A shrill voice, which bounced in your ears making you cringe, asked you. A doll, Donna's doll, Angie, was the only one who spoke when the door to that house opened.

The lady holding her didn't say a word, she just stood... You assumed, looking at you through the black veil that covered her face.

“I’m... I’m, (Y/N), Lady Dimitrescu sent me. She told me that you needed a maid,” you said timidly.

“I don't need a maid,” the doll said, with a slightly different tone. “Go away.”

You, determined to flee out of the marriage of convenience that your parents had prepared, made a stupid move, putting your hand on the door to prevent it from closing.

“I... I... Please... I'm sure I can be really helpful. I don't need a lot of money and I can clean, cook, do the laundry... I'm sure you need some help it in such a big house.”

“Are you deaf, stupid? Donna told you she didn't need you help,” the doll sang. Yes, the lady was the one who rejected you.

“Please, please... Give me a chance, I can be very useful to you,” you said with pleading eyes, ignoring the doll and looking at the woman in black, who sighed tiredly.

The doll looked at its owner, who remained serene, standing, without moving beyond her breathing.

“Are you so desperate?” the doll asked with a sinister laughter.

“Maybe...” You admitted, lowering your head. “Please, if I don't get the job, they will force me to get married. I'm very good at what I do, I promise, you don't even have to pay at first... At least try me.”

Doll and lady looked at each other, and then their heads turned to you.

“Oh, it's fine. You will stay for a trial week,” the doll said while the lady moved away to let you enter the house.

After those words, you started working at the Beneviento estate.

Cleaning, cooking… Everything you hoped to do. You weren't worried, but you weren't calm either. That woman was strange, lonely. It's like she's trying to avoid contact with you. She always walked like a shadow around the house, as if you didn't even exist.

But you were there. The Angie doll served as a reminder that you were really working, that you were a maid, her maid.

The week passed and… Nothing. You continued with your work. You figured you were useful enough to Donna.

She paid you well, you had a room to yourself and you didn't lack anything. The only bad thing was that incipient feeling of living in absolute solitude, a feeling that grew as the days passed.

How many times you asked her didn't matter, or how many times you looked at that portrait on the stairs. Nothing could resolve your doubts about Donna. Nothing could get her to say a single word to you in her own voice.

“Where did you learn this recipe?” The lady asked one night, making you turn around immediately. You hadn't hallucinated, it was her voice. A soft, hoarse voice. She was really asking you.

“Oh…. Well… I have been cooking since I was very young. I have 4 brothers and my mother couldn't handle everything by herself,” you explained, feeling a strange relief when you let your voice come out of your throat. It wasn't unusual for you to go entire days without speaking in that house.

“Mm,” Donna murmured, nodding, making the fabric of her veil move slightly.

It may have seemed like a stupid conversation, but after that one, many more came, increasingly longer and more interesting conversations.

You may have been afraid at first, especially when you remembered that poor gardener, but little by little you began to relax. She didn't seem like an evil woman, just strange, complicated. You knew that she had problems, that she often had a hard time controlling her emotions. It was never a problem for you. Your hand on her shoulder and words of comfort were enough for Donna to relax.

That strange confidence settled in, like another routine in your tasks. A conversation about literature, lived experiences, anything... Anything other than what was behind that black veil.

When you accidentally discovered it, everything went back to the beginning, as if it had been a complete restart.

Donna was a beautiful woman, despite the scar that covered her right eye. You probably had more important things to think about, but ever since you saw her face, you couldn't help but remember it each hour of the day.

Being attracted to a beautiful woman was not strange for you, but your conscience told you over and over again to forget about those feelings.

“You don't have to cover yourself, my lady. You are a beautiful woman,” you said one night coming up from the kitchen, watching as Donna put on her veil so that you couldn't see her once again.

“Liar,” she whispered, barely with a thread of voice.

“I'm not lying,” you said in response, moving closer to the table.

“I'm not going to raise your salary because you flatter me. I don't need your false compassion,” your wife scolded you, holding the fork tightly.

 “It's not what I intend”

“Liar!” Donna screamed, for no reason beyond the embarrassment she felt about her face.

There were a couple of tense weeks, weeks when you were somewhat afraid. If Donna got angry, something bad would happen, or so the people in the village said.

Things calmed down as time went by. What didn't calm down was your attraction to the woman in black, who seemed to forget about that little incident and regain the trust you had worked so hard to earn.

This attraction worsened to the point that you were the one who needed to be close to her, have those absurd conversations and feel the fabric of her dress very close to yours.

A short time later, after a small discussion relating again to the beauty that she denied having, your lips collided impatiently, melting into a passionate and unexpected, but longed for, kiss.

You could say that everything changed after that kiss, but really... It didn’t.

Everything about Beneviento remained the same. Maybe a kiss, a caress... The vision of Donna without the black veil… They were small and insignificant changes, but not insignificant to you.

Recognizing that you were in love with Donna was an important step for you. You kept wondering if she felt the same way. She may have talked to you. She may have whispered words that you didn't understand, but... You didn't really know what she thought of you, if she felt the same way.

Nothing important, in your opinion. Her hand caressing yours while you read or ate together was more than enough for you.

Her kisses went from being innocent to being desperate, insecure... You could notice her desire in her already discovered gaze, the smile that formed on her lips when you hugged her, when she hugged you.

The heat of those new kisses became almost unbearable. It didn't matter the things she said, the things you thought... You just gasped when her arms surrounded your back, when you lay down on the bed next to her, when you let yourself be carried away by a delirious, almost desperate desire.

Donna might seem like an ordinary woman, but she wasn't one at all. Mother Miranda's infinite power not only caused that horrible scar, but it also made certain things different about her body. It was not a thing that really mattered to you. Until that moment you hadn't even stopped to think about how madly in love you were.

She was affectionate, tender and insecure in her movements. An insecure woman, who trembled at the sight of you naked, at having you at her mercy in a way that you doubt she even imagined.

“I... I've never been with anyone. You'll have to be patient with me...” Donna whispered as she got closer, caressing your cheek while she undressed herself, showing that her attraction to you was more than evident.

“Me neither...” You said, with a lump in your throat, with multiple insecurities that began to cloud that special night.

None of the problems you saw were an impediment to not feeling loved as you did that night. Her movements were erratic, inexperienced, just like yours. Despite this, feeling her inside you, making love to you slowly, without rushing, with her soft moans causing you chills, were enough reasons to stop being afraid, to feel free to love her and be loved.

While her gentle thrusts filled your mind with unimaginable waves of pleasure, your hands cupped her face, caressing it gently.

“I love you,” you said, at the limit of your sanity, when she lifted your legs to have better access to you.

You expected a response, a loving comment. You didn't have it. The only thing Donna did was smile, without stopping moving, closing her only eye to feel even more pleasure being inside your body. That was it: a smile and her warmth settling inside you after a heavy gasp.

Just like your first kiss, making love to Donna didn't change anything in your routine.

Yes, there were many nights in which passion was the protagonist, in which she took you and loved you in an unimaginable way. You even slept next to her many times, hugging her body.

Questions began to plague your mind while, as the months passed, your body began to weaken. Were you starting to have doubts? Of course you had doubts. Donna was gentle, affectionate, kind... She showered you with kisses, compliments, she caressed you, she talked to you about her concerns. She shared her life with you. But, you were nothing but a maid. You continued doing your job, despite your body's discomfort. You served her breakfast, lunch, dinner... You did the laundry, you cleaned the dust...

If she had feelings for you... Why  she didn’t tell you? She doesn’t feel the same?

“There's nothing wrong with her, Donna. She's fine,” the supreme witch of the place, Mother Miranda, said with a sigh, after checking your temperature.

Yes, your discomfort seriously worsened, causing dizziness and nausea to prevent you from doing your job normally.

Seeing the priestess as something similar to a doctor made you shiver, feeling even worse.

“You are very kind, Mother Miranda,” you said respectfully, sitting up on the sofa. The blonde simply smiled, standing up and clasping her hands together.

“Congratulations, Donna. (Y/N) is pregnant,” she said as she was talking about a simple cold.

“What?!” You shouted.

You should have guessed it. Those nights of unbridled passion you had not been careful. Well, more like, she hadn't been careful. The news fell on you like a bucket of cold water, but you couldn't help but feel a certain excitement.

You loved Donna, you really did. There was no other place you wanted to be than next to her. Nothing could change your mind. Despite her silence regarding her feelings, and not knowing what she was to you, or what you were to her, you couldn't deny you were madly in love and that a baby, a child with her, was the best news.

“A baby… It's wonderful, tesoro,” The lady in black whispered, placing a cushion on your back so that you would be more comfortable.

“Yes, it is,” you said with a smile, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly in yours. “I love you, Donna.”

It was a pathetic attempt, one of the many times you tried to get her to return the feeling, to get her to say those three words you so badly needed to hear. Like other times, there was no response, just a horrible silence, followed by a slow and tender kiss on the lips.

Time passed without respite, without letting you think about things coldly. Donna took care of you, you couldn't deny it, even Angie did everything she could to make sure your pregnancy wasn't a problem for you, more than usual, of course.

Maybe it was the hormones, the changes in your body, but you started crying at night, those nights when Donna was already asleep, when her arm passed over your body and her legs served as chains to keep you from leaving.

Joy, sadness, disappointment... You didn't know exactly why you were crying. Well, you had a slight idea. You had everything you wanted: a home, a wonderful woman by your side... Did you have it?

Every day, when the sun set behind the mountains, you looked at the horizon wondering if you were really as important to her as she was to you.

While you caressed your increasingly bulging belly, you thought about everything you experienced every day. Kisses, words of love, affection, smiles and caresses to your belly...

It might seem like enough, but it wasn't. The most important thing was still missing: an I love you from her lips, a marry me. What were you and Donna really like? What were you to Donna?

The torture that your pregnancy entailed ended months later, causing this new being to be born in the bed where it was conceived. Hours of pain, suffering, words of support and an irrational fear of bleeding to death, despite being well cared. But it was all worth it. Little Giulia Beneviento had been born and she was more beautiful than Heaven itself.

The baby meant a radical change in your life. Now you had someone to take care of, who you and Donna loved dearly. She helped you with everything she could. If she had been any other way, you would have been devastated.

But all that joy that Giulia caused had an expiration date. It didn't last long, like a glass of water on a hot day. Doubts and fear returned to your bed every night to not let you sleep.

Lack of sleep was present in your usual tasks. You didn't even know why you kept acting like a maid. You weren't, or so you wanted to think.

“(Y/N), I don't think I could live without your food,” Donna said, while you had dinner together, like every night.

You barely moved after those words, after those praises that had become a routine that was beginning to consume you.

Mimicking her usual responses to your declarations of love, you briefly lifted your corners to offer a fake, half-hearted smile.

“Now that the weather is starting to be nice, we could go for a walk in the forest, I'm sure Giulia will love it,” she said, ignoring your gesture of contempt.

Your patience had been exhausted for a long time, long before the girl was born. You were nervous and anxiety had caused you to become a very different person than you already were.

“She's two months old, Donna, I doubt she can even notice,” you responded, drinking your glass of water and setting it down on the table with a thud.

“Well... I...” The doll maker stammered, playing with the spoon in her soup, disturbed by your reaction.

“Besides, tomorrow I have to do the laundry. I don't think I have time for a stupid walk,” you said, wiping yourself with the napkin, causing Donna to look at you suddenly, with a cold and a scared expression.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N), that can wait,” Donna said, smiling the way she knew made you melt.

“Really?” You asked immediately, before her beauty prevented you from saying what you thought, again.

“Tesoro, are you okay?” The lady in black asked, studying your cold expression carefully.

“I'm fine, don't you see me?” You responded ironically.

“(Y/N)...”

“Of course I'm not okay!” You screamed, letting that repressed rage come out, slamming your fist on the table, making what was on top of it shake dangerously. “I'm fed up, Donna.”

“Fed up?” She asked, with a familiar gleam in her eye. Anything would make Donna lose control, but for some reason, she knew how to stay calm. For a moment, in your rabid alienation, you wished you had never taught her how to control her anxiety.

“Yes, fed up,” you repeated with a grimace of disgust. “I'm sick of you.”

“What have I done?” She asked curiously, with her hands trembling on the table.

“Stop pretending you're an idiot, Donna, I know you're not,” you said, standing up abruptly. “Tell me, what the hell am I to you?”

“You know I don't like when you talk like that,” she hissed angrily, hardening her gaze.

“I don't give a shit,” you replied, letting your subconscious enjoy disobeying her. “I've been here for two years, with you, and I don't even know what I am.”

“What are you?” She asked, shaking her head.

“What are we, Donna? We are lovers? Am I your wife, your girlfriend? What do I mean in your life? I've been trying to tell you all this time the things I feel about you and you do nothing but ignore me...” You said furiously, narrowing your eyes.

“I don't…”

“Shut up!” You interrupted, making her step back, resting her back on the chair. “You have no idea how stupid I feel… How distressing it is not to know how the hell you feel about me.”

“(Y/N)...”

“I said... Shut up,” you growled, resting your hands on the table, leaning in to look threatening. “Now it is my turn to speak, even if I am just your maid. Is that true? I am just your maid, the mother of your daughter, a servant...”

“What are you talking about? Tesoro, I...” Donna said, shaking her head, blinking in disbelief.

“We've been together a long time, Donna. We have laughed, we have cried. Damn, we made love, we have a damn daughter and I'm still serving you breakfast every morning. If only that's what I mean to you, have the courage to tell me.”

“You're wrong, (Y/N)”

“Did you even ask me if I wanted to have a baby? No, you didn't. You have always done what you wanted with me. Now I'm starting to realize it.”

You didn't want to bring up that topic. You didn't want to tell her that you weren't ready to be a mother. Giulia was the most important person in your life. You decided to keep those first thoughts to yourself.

“You never say that you love me...” You murmured, calming your nerves, letting a tear slide down your cheek. “You don't need to be a genius to know what that means. You never loved me. Damn, if you keep paying me to be your maid, do you know how that makes me feel?”

“You're just talking nonsense...” Donna whispered, gritting her teeth, letting you know with her eye  that you were making her more and more nervous.

“Nonsense? Is showing your feelings nonsense to you? Very good, very good, Donna,” you said nodding, moving away from the table. “I resign.”

“What?”

“You’ve heard me, pay me what you owe me and I'll get out of here. And Giulia is coming with me.”

“Don't you dare to leave!” She shouted, getting up furious.

“Oh? Are you threatening me? Now I’m clear about what do you think,” you said mockingly, defiantly.

“(Y/N), I, I don't...” Donna said, breathing deeply so as not to scream again.

“You're no better than your siblings, Donna,” you said.

“No, I'm not like them,” she defended herself, clenching her fists. “I… I…”

“You, what?” You insisted, making her shake her head and her breathing hitch again. “I deeply regret being so in love with you. Don’t worry. I don't have the courage to leave. I guess you've been lucky with me being your slave,” you sighed, feeling that statement was terribly true. “I hate loving you!”

Her eye was cold, angry. Her gaze didn’t leave yours but her lips didn’t move. They remained half open.

Your tears ran down your face and crashed onto the wooden floor.

“Hello hello!” A shrill voice interrupted that argument. Angie arrived from the elevator. “Little Giulia is crying, I think she is hungry,” she said in a sing-song voice.

You sighed, closing your eyes and nodding.

“Okay, I'm going to feed your daughter,” you said contemptuously, taking one last look at the table. “Don't worry, Lady Beneviento, then I will pick this up like the maid I’m.”

To emphasize your anger, you walked past her, bumping her shoulder on the way. She didn't move. She stayed rigid, in the same position. She didn't even turn her head to look at you. You didn't worry too much about it either. You had said the things you wanted for a long time.

“Let's see...” You murmured as you picked up your daughter from the crib. She was crying inconsolably. “Don’t cry, my love. Mom is with you,” you said with a broken voice, sitting on the bed to feed the baby, who calmed down as soon as she touched your skin.

You couldn't help but sob, even with the little girl in your arms, you felt deep sorrow. You thought that everything you had experienced was just an illusion in your head, that Donna's cowardice in saying what she thought was simply that, cowardice.

But you were sure that you were no more to her than any maid in the castle was to her lady.

“Your mother Donna is stupid, you know?” You said affectionately, stroking the baby's black hair. “But… I love her. I will love her even if she doesn't feel the same way about me.”

The baby sighed, causing the false sensation that she was listening to you.

“I just want to her to be able to tell me what she thinks, what she feels...” you murmured again, when Giulia squirmed in your arms, indicating that she was done. “But… You know what? It doesn’t matter. If I'm sure of one thing, it's that your mommy Donna loves you madly. You should feel lucky. At least she tells you, she will always tell you.”

“(Y/N)...” A hoarse, broken voice sounded behind the door. You rolled your eyes, as you lovingly moved the baby in your arms. “Please, let me in.”

“Do it if you want to, this is YOUR home,” you whispered reluctantly, getting rid of the baby's gases.

The woman in black entered. Her face betrayed tears and regret. But you were too tired.

“Your daughter eats too much,” you said. “She has drained every last drop of my energy. I don't have the strength to talk to you, Donna.”

The woman sat next to you, petting the baby, but without looking you in the eyes.

“When I was 14, I fell in love with a girl from the village,” she began to say, picking up the baby from your arms and rocking her daughter to sleep.

You didn't want to, nor did you feel like shutting her up again.

“I know it was impossible for her to feel the same. My scar wasn't as horrible as it is now, but people still avoided me. I thought that... Maybe if I told her what I felt, she would listen to me.”

“There was nothing wrong with your scar then and there is nothing wrong with it now,” you said seriously, also avoiding looking at her face.

“Well, I... I wrote her a letter, telling her what I felt about her. Do you know what her response was? No one could ever love you, you are a monster,” the lady in black said sighing, repressing a sob.

“I'm sorry,” you managed to say, feeling that your idea of ​​seeming angry was blurred by the mere fact of hearing her voice.

“One morning, my parents told me that they were going to take a trip, that it would only be a few days. I told them I loved them before they leave,” she continued telling, her voice becoming weaker, her hands trembling as she cradled her daughter.

“I don't understand what that has to do with...”

“They died that day. They jumped into the void, in front of me,” Donna explained. You knew that story, but you had never dared to ask her about it.

Donna stood up, carefully placing her daughter in her crib, tucking her in tenderly, before sitting back down next to you.

“Don't you understand, (Y/N)? All the people I have loved have hurt me, or abandoned me,” she said with a slightly stronger tone, her breathing heavy.

“So the best thing is to never love anyone again, right?” You said with a bit of irony.

“Do you think I don't love you?” She asked suddenly, turning her head towards you, now looking into your eyes.

“I don't know, Donna,” she sighed.

“Girlfriends, lovers, wives... All of them are just meaningless words, labels. They don't mean anything to me,” she said, shaking her head, extending her hand to take yours. You didn't take it away.

“But they do for me. You don't know what it's like to be thinking about what I mean to you. Not knowing if the kisses you give me are something more than mere kisses, if you make love to me because you really feel it, or if you do it just for fun. Sometimes people need to know that you love them, you understand?”

“I've never been good at dealing with people,” Donna said with an amused smile, caressing your hand with her thumb.

“Oh, fresh news,” you ironized, letting out a brief laugh that she shared with you.

“I, I have always felt alone... Always… Until, until you came.”

“The fool who fills the void of your loneliness... Is that what I am to you?”

“No, (Y/N), you... You are everything that makes me feel like life is wonderful. I like to see you wake up next to me. I like when you hug me, when you love me. I feel like I'm not afraid of dying because hell is insignificant compared to spending the rest of my life without you...”

“Wow...” You said, excited by that strange statement. “I guess that means you love me.”

Donna nodded profusely, turning your body to face her so she could kiss you softly on the lips.

“I love you, (Y/N). You and Giulia are the only things I care about.”

“I... I love you too,” you said with a smile, kissing her again, relaxing your spirit after hearing the words you longed for so much. “You don’t know how much I do.”

“Could you forgive me?” She asked in a tone of supplication, of true repentance. “I promise you that not a single day will pass without me telling you how much I love you, I promise you.”

“No, Donna... You have to forgive me. I've gone too far with you. I should have understood you better. But…”

“But?” The lady asked, startled.

“You have not answered my question. What are we, Donna? What am I to you?” You asked, running a hand over her cheek, suppressing the desire you had to kiss her deeply.

“You are...” Donna whispered, searching for an answer in the cracked walls of the bedroom. “You are my family.”

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.

steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.

eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.

so steve is all over eddie, it seems.

at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.

so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.

robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?

eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.

it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?

- robin and steve

“Steve.”

“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“

“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…

Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”

To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”

“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.

“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”

“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“

“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”

To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.

“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.

“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”

“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“

“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.

“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”

She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.

He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.

After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.

“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”

He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.

“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“

“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.

“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“

“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”

Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.

“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”

“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”

“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”

- later. steve’s house. to be continued?

[bsxcrxts]

I was too young when the hunger games books came out because I know peeta would have done irreversible damage to my mental state and taste in men. In like the way my standards would have been even higher than they are now

[akkivee]

hi! i have a question about something that struck me a little while ago. i think i have a little problem with the burnout towards hypmic. the thing is i really love this fandom and I don't want to leave it behind... I KNOW YOU'RE NOT A THERAPIST AND I SHOULDN'T ASK REGULAR PEOPLE I DON'T EVEN ACQUAINTED WITH TO DEAL WITH MY PROBLEMS but i think you'd have some advices as someone who's been into hypmic for quite a long time

thank in advance<3

i wish i had more useful advice other than i’m too tired about everything else to even consider being burnt out by hypmic but that is kinda how it is lol 😓

but i revisit the series like, a fair amount!!! sometimes i have a point i’m thinking about and have to remind myself of the specifics which tends to have me jumping from chapter to chapter or media to media to try to remember where tf i read/saw that moment from lmao. and like 40% of the time i find something new to muse about it’s fun lol

i also don’t just stick to hypmic believe it or not lmao like bc i want to be here, i don’t fandom hop the way i do when i don’t have a fandom home but i do enjoy other series and picking apart my fav characters there, maybe not to the extent i do with kuukou lol but enough!!!! even when i wasn’t working as much and had more free time, i’d always be reading other stuff

i’m not being very useful gomen lol 🙇‍♀️

[oreosmama]

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: I pity the fools who ignore this a/n bc WARNING, these are hcs without those stupid bullet points bc I have suddenly emotionally decided that they fucking suck. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the light angst, for all those survivors who are still vibing in this fandom. Enjoy!

Word count: 1968

Tooru Oikawa:

“I’m totally and completely over you.”

That’s how the message starts. 

Part of you wonders if you missed something, or accidentally skipped ahead. It’s so immediate, like Oikawa could barely wait for the beep before tearing into you. Like he needed to spit poison the second he had the chance. 

And it’s one of those biting remarks that he wants to let fester—for a while, evidently; he doesn’t say anything else for another five minutes. 

All that follows is a loud thud, like he’s thrown the phone away from him. And then footsteps, like he’s pacing, pacing, pacing back and forth, trying to think of more scathing words by burning holes into his carpet. 

You hit a point where you think you should delete the message, maybe try and not care about whatever else he may or may not say after waiting for so long. You nibble on your nails and tug at the snarls in your hair. You pick four pieces of lint off your sweatshirt and seventeen more off the blanket draped over your lap, and you know how many there are because you line them up and count them afterwards as you wait, anxious, listening to your ex-boyfriend’s panting. 

But a small rustle stirs at that five-minute mark, right against your ear. And a sniffle. 

“Fine.” Oikawa’s voice cracks. “You win.” 

You suck in a breath. 

“What do you wanna hear? That I miss you?” He sniffles again, then scoffs bitterly. “That I miss you so fucking much I can’t sleep at night? That my bed is so fucking cold now I can’t even stomach sleeping in it? That every girl I see I automatically compare to you because I have to—I just fucking have to, all because she’s not you. And it makes me sick.”

His chuckle is sour and crackles harshly into your eardrum. “Am I stroking your ego enough, sweetheart? Because you win. You fucking win.

“I want you back.” 

He sighs, and it sounds like he’s rubbing his forehead. 

“I need you back.” 

More beats pass in the silence. More sniffles, too, but stretched out, like he’s trying to steady his breathing. 

You don’t think it’s helping him any. As you wipe the cuffs of your sweatshirt underneath your eyes, his voice returns, thoroughly raw and wounded. It squeaks out of him, barely above a whisper. His voice is so loud and tender, like he’s cradling the phone against his cheek. 

Your hand against his warm cheek, curled over that pink skin, fingertips inches away from brushing through those soft strands, wiping tears. That’s what you wish it was. 

“I didn’t know…” 

A shaky breath. You hold yours in return. 

“I didn’t know anything could hurt this bad.”

He swallows thickly. 

“Those last few moments after you left—I thought that would be the worst of it. When you just walked out. And I keep seeing you do it, over and over and over, in my head like I can’t help but torture myself with it.

“I never knew it would get so much fucking worse.”

He whimpers a little, and your heart constricts unbearably. You tear at the damn thing buried underneath your sweatshirt, massaging the skin like it can soothe that phantom ache. 

Oikawa must hate you. Maybe he hates you like you hate him: not because of the breakup, but because you can go for weeks without seeing him, holding him, kissing him, and everything still hurts like that last time. 

“Thing is, I could’ve sworn you weren’t always in my life. It’s been two years. Only two years. And yet I can’t remember a damn thing before us. It feels like it was always us. Some fog, and then you, and then everything afterwards. Everything that was us.”

“And I hate that we had it so good, YN. I really do. Because missing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The frustration in his voice is familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu around it, and you latch a hand over your mouth at how vividly the image comes to you: Oikawa tearing his fingers through his hair, teeth gritted, cheeks flushed and shiny. Like when he lost a game, but different somehow. 

Like this was something he didn’t even know he could lose.

He’s crumbling in a way he doesn’t know how to stop. That ugly part about having something wonderful and new—the moment it’s gone, what the hell are you supposed to do then?

“I just—Goddamnit, I can’t stand how badly it hurts anymore. I can’t,” he cries, desperate and aching, like his hand is fisting at his heart. You can hear the breath hitching in his throat, the hiccuping breaths after his sobs. You can hear every tear, feel it against your own cheeks, a soreness building at the front of your skull. 

Too many tears. Your body is screaming at you, too many fucking tears. 

But it’s him and he was yours and you were his. 

Were. 

You were his. 

You had no idea how much that single thought could make your entire chest throb. 

Oikawa inhales, and it makes your heart race against the thick wall caging it in, squeezing against it. 

“I need to see you.” 

He says the thought like it’s just slapped him across the face. 

“I need to go see you, I—I have to.” 

He mumbles to himself unsteadily, like he’s rocking back and forth. Debating, really, what he’s supposed to do, if he should do it at all, if it’s right after everything.

You should probably think he’s wrong.

You probably shouldn’t be curled over your phone, eyes wide, mouth open, not making a fucking peep. Waiting to hear what he’s going to do. 

Maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be telling yourself that as the voicemail counts down to its final seconds, if he decides he’s not going to go to you, that you’ll definitely be going to him.

“I can’t just sit here. I can’t stay in here, without you. This isn’t right, I—”

Your breath hitches when you hear the frantic jingle of keys. 

Then the sound of a door slamming. 

His footsteps racing down his apartment’s stairwell.

A car engine revving. 

“I need to see you.” 

And the voicemail ends. 

_________________________

Satori Tendou: 

The message begins with a scoff of utter disbelief. 

“Is that what we’re doing now?”

He pauses, almost like he thinks you’re going to respond. 

“Heard from someone that I suddenly have syphilis. Yesterday, I had herpes though, so I guess I’m gonna have a tough week.”

A rustle like he’d shaking his head, like he can’t fucking believe it. 

“And sure, okay, I figured that’s fine. You can say all that shit, and it won’t really stick because everyone knows it was us and that it’s you and you’re hurt.”

He sighs. 

“But I saw it, sweetheart. I saw it.” The phone whines like he’s adjusting it against his face, and his voice is suddenly lower, darker. 

“You don’t get to have it both ways, you know. You can’t spread all that shit—all those rumors about how shitty everything was and how we didn’t have anything going for us—and then turn around two days later wearing my sweatshirt. And you don’t get to wear that necklace I gave you for our anniversary and then run away from me the second you see me. That’s just not fair—you’re not playing fair anymore.”

Something swishes around like loose clothing, and a large huff greets your ear from what must be Tendou collapsing into a seat. When his little sounds become quieter, that relentless humming and the excitable clicks of his tongue against his teeth, you figure he must have put the phone on speaker and balanced it on his knee like he always did. Mid-conversation with Ushiwaka, he always used to spin his phone with those long fingers, or bounce the damn thing up and down against his frantic leg. 

And the voicemail came through late last night, one of those dead hours where the only ones awake were Tendou, his scrambling thoughts, and the moths flitting back and forth outside his glowing window. He was always awake, always thinking, always doing something. 

When you’d first broken up, after one long, wrenching fight where you’d both lost your voices and the frustration welled so high you just couldn’t breathe anymore, you’d been thankful for the idea of sleeping soundly for the first time in months. 

You’d been wrong. You weren’t even sleeping anymore; just long, slow blinks where your phone screen would magically turn from 3:45 a.m. to 7:25 a.m., and in five minutes you’d have to get up and slug your way through another day. 

Tendou had been the same. Those naturally wide eyes sagged under the pressure, and the curve of his spine had deepened like he’d been hauling the lack of sleep everywhere he went. 

He must be sitting at his window now, at this moment in his message, pale skin aglow with wispy tendrils of moon. And he’s calling you. And he saw everything you’d done. 

“Not fair. Not fair at all,” he whines, teasing. Always, always teasing, and if you hadn’t heard the slight cripple in his voice on the last word, you’d have gone on thinking he viewed it as one big joke. 

You’re sure he heard the same thing you had—that he couldn’t keep acting like it was all fun and games. His usual, cat-like smile surely fell into a pert little frown, pale lips twisting like he’d sucked on a lemon. 

No fun, no fun, no fun, he must have been thinking. 

“Ya see, I thought we had a little deal,” Tendou drawls. “You’d talk smack and start dressing all pretty just to spite me, and then–and then I’d go ahead and delete all your pictures and put your name as ‘Bitch’ in my phone. And in, like, two weeks, we’d just be two ships, whoosh, whoosh, passing each other on the high seas of life, ya know?”

He breathes a ghost of a laugh. 

“But, sweetheart, you look like shit.” He chuckles for real this time, and it’s disgustingly hollow. “I’m not even kidding. Like someone ran you over three times every morning—it’s horrible, really.”

You curl into yourself even further, and you’re smiling, grinning, lips peeling with how much you’ve cried and how little water you’ve drank after. You hate him; God, you hate how he can make you laugh and cry at the same time. 

“But that’s okay, I’ll give you a pass just this once. I haven’t deleted your pictures yet, so I botched my end of the deal, too.” Tendou tsks his tongue. 

“I won’t go easy on you, though. Here–here, how’s about this: for every day you stop wearing my clothes—because they look horrible on you, sweetheart; really, you’re painful to watch—I’ll delete one of your pictures, eh? That means, in about–uhhdivideby365daysinayearignoringleapyearbullshit–ah, seven years, I’ll have held up my end. S’that good with you?”

You lean your head back, letting the tears flood your hair as he chuckles to himself. 

“Fuck it,” he says after a pause. Hopeless. Breathless. “Fuck it.” He must be gnawing on that pale lower lip, biting and nibbling until it bleeds. Because he lets something go to sigh again, and he must have smacked his head against the wall, and then you think he sniffled. 

“I still want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I’m tired of missing you and wanting you. Doing both hurts too much.”

Tendou soughs.

“So I’m still your Chicken Tendy, baby. Always. And I’ll be here when you're ready, syphilis and all.”

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

wait fuck ok i’m back to being sad about it now

like the thing is that ed doesn’t really hang out with anyone but stede in season one, not really. and whenever he is talking to other ppl on the crew, stede is right there. the only exception to this is in episode 8 when jack brings the party energy and everyone is getting drunk and rowdy together specifically as part of jack’s efforts to exclude stede.

and as a fandom we always make jokes and theorize about what the relationship between ed and stede must look like from the outside, if they were all placing bets for when they’d finally hook up or if they had zero belief in stede’s ability to pull THEE blackbeard

but now i’m thinking about the crew’s perception of Ed Himself. of the crew’s perceptions of The Legendary Blackbeard and how that must’ve changed over the course of the first season. because when they first meet him they’re all impressed and starstruck bc yeah, duh, this is Pirate Beyoncé we’re talking about. they’re also in varying degrees “worried he’s gonna kill them.”

but they quickly see that the real pirate beyonce isn’t all leather and murder and head made of smoke. blackbeard swaps clothes with their cringefail (derogatory) boss for fun. he dresses up and goes to a fancy party just because he wants to—he’s not even trying to get anything out of it, doesn’t have an angle the way frenchie does, he genuinely just wants to go to a very un-Blackbeardy party and have fun. he tells them scary stories. he shows them some of his trade blackbeard secrets. he hypes them all up after their first fuckery (and i will never get over how cute that is exchange is, “scared the pants off me” and “i thought blackbeard didn’t feel fear” and “and i didn’t, until tonight” and the crew’s genuine excitement and pride). he goes on a treasure hunt with their cringefail (affectionate, now) boss and lets him dig in the ground to get it out of his system. they learn that ed isn’t just a scary pirate, he also can be silly and goof off and enjoy things that aren’t exactly compatible’s with the Blackbeard Brand

and beyond just not adhering 24/7 to the Brand, they learn that ed—that blackbeard—is human. is fallible. they see his first plan to escape the spanish fail, and they get to participate in the backup plan that he and stede come up with. frenchie sees ed get hurt at the fancy party in a way that he completely understands. lucius realizes that ed is just as into his cringefail boss as his cringefail boss is into ed, and over the course of giving ed a shovel talk he maybe learns that The Legendary Blackbeard might actually be nervous about a boy liking him back.

and none of this—NONE of this—makes the crew lose any respect for him. even pete never has a moment where his perception of his idol is shattered, where he’s disappointed that blackbeard isn’t all nine guns and zero mercy all the time. instead, pete expands his idea of what The Ideal Pirate (the ideal MAN) looks like.

i think by the time jack rolls around, ed is no longer on that Pirate Beyoncé pedestal to them. he’s still on a pedestal, a bit, but instead of seeing ed as this untouchable badass legend, they see him as like. the coolest guy on the ship. still a badass, still somebody they all respect and admire, but someone they can hang out with. someone they really want to hang out with. they want to impress ed because they want him to like them, they want to be his friend. and yeah, it’s played as a “your father and i are getting a divorce but we still love you very much” joke, but they really are so sad when ed leaves with jack.

and ed showing up with no beard and no stede, ed hiding in his cabin for. a day? multiple days? ed singing a song about his feelings. ed saying he no longer wants to go by blackbeard.

the crew is confused, but they’re on board. they don’t laugh at him for his (bad) singing, they don’t think less of him now that he’s sans iconic beard. ed, to them, is still The Coolest Guy On The Ship, and they want to be his friend. they’re excited to be his friend.

they want to put on a talent show.

and ed, right after getting stabbed in the back by jack and izzy, and then stede, and then izzy again—ed, who was so affected by the jeers of the rich fuckers at that fancy party, who grew up in a culture that doesn’t allow for friendship, a culture of everyone in various stages of fucking each other over—can’t see that. he’s got fresh heartbreak and fresh betrayal that are compounding on years of trauma and he hears them all chanting his name and he can’t trust this crew. he couldn’t trust his first mate, and he couldn’t trust his old shipmate, and he couldn’t trust stede. he cannot, cannot risk vulnerability with the crew. not again.

(and like, cmon, who is ed even kidding? he’s not made for things like softness and friendship and genuine camaraderie. trying to be anything other than blackbeard is like a wolf trying to fit in a sheep’s clothing, but the clothing is too small and everyone can see right through him and they’re all laughing and laughing and he’s the only one who can’t see what a joke he is. ed’s not an idiot, he knows there’s no way the crew is up their chanting his name and asking for another song because they like him. they just want the great clown pagliacci to come out and make them laugh.

so sure, ed’ll give them a show. they think ed’s funny? well he’s about to be fucking hilarious.)

EDIT: those of y’all seeing this in the ofmd tags are missing the additions where it gets even sadder

[toki-toro]

|| Part 1/5!

Gave myself the project/challenge of drawing just about every character from this silly musical :o)

Ramblings about each cat design and a brisk sprinkle of hcs below the cut off 👇

~

I say ‘just about everyone’ bc I didn’t include every single swing in the cats I have planned out. But there’s already like over 40 separate characters to draw and I included the Raffish crew in the list cause I rlly enjoy them. So I think that all makes up for the lack of unnamed male swing #2 that was featured in Broadway one time and had no pictures taken of him at any point.

These first eight took me like a month to finish. I’m hoping that none of the other parts will take me nearly that long but um :) no promises that I won’t completely drop this entire idea once I’ve realized it’s dumb

Whenever I draw a cat I pretty much always combine a bunch of aspects from different productions that I personally like. Nothing drastically different from what’s seen in a typical replica. Basically this is a big ref sheet for me for if I ever want to draw any of them again

I've changed some of their 'three words' if they either didn't fit my personal interpretation, or if they just never had any in the first place. But I do promise none of them stray too far from their original concepts

Anywho, onto the kitties !!

~

Munkustrap ~ Integrity, Discipline, Dignified

Makeup and wig very much based off of earlier 80's - 90's ish productions, such as a few actors from US tours 1 and 4. Love a good slender Munk with angular shapes;.. . .Each stripe is filled with the respective colour of fluff, so he'd naturally be very fuzzy and probably a pain to maintain

As for hcs, I only really see him being an Old Deut son, and maybe a few others…. So I’m ignoring whichever London production that said Tugger was related to them, even tho i realize that him being in the family is like one of the most popular hcs in this entire fandom lol. I personally just don’t see it but I’m NOT against it at all

Rum Tum Tugger ~ Rebellious, Perverse, Preening

Rocky Tam Tam! I went full force on Tugger since ik his original design had SO much potential to be rlly fun

He does in fact have a harness selection to choose from and he changes which one he’s wearing depending on his mood of the day

Rick Sparks and David Hibbard from Broadway, actors from US tours 1, 4, and 5, aand early 2000's Japan productions were inspirations for this big guy.

Special shout out to that 90's Mexico Tugger as well.. one of my idols 💋

Old Deuteronomy ~ Wise, Commanding, Spiritual

Deut is supposed to be trans in the 2019 adaptation and NOBODY told me. I was so mindblowned by that information.. yes Judi Dench… thank you Judi Dench ily.. .

Um I think this is literally just Ken Page from when he was on Broadway. His pigtails(??) are cute :) Do not zoom into his drawing he looks like a literal carpet

Victoria ~ Inquisitive, Romantic, Un- selfconcious

I think she’d be semi blind and very shy when it comes to verbally speaking. Thats just the kind of vibe I get whenever she mistakenly makes herself the centre of attention during the musical, like her entire solo, the pas de deux, and a few other notable parts. Isn’t rlly able to see the audience nor the people watching her do whatever. She can hear the music just fine and can recognize the vague blurs of those around her, altho she is never certain about how the others around her are dancing nor when it’s the appropriate time to just do whatever. So she does whatever the music is persuading her to do at any given moment.

Vicky’s supposed to be a complimentary opposite of Jemima, so she’s brilliant at dancing but not much of a singer (doesn’t sing in the ensemble), and Jemima is vice versa.

I gave her 80’s(?) Paris/Amsterdam inspired pigtails. .. they’re so adorable on her <3 Makeup is kinda early broadway-ish and a sprinkle of Warsaw with the long under lashes.

Bustopher Jones ~ Foppish, Gluttonous, Dapper

Bestie shows up for 5 minutes max, sings about how he love a good luncheon and then runs off into the night, never to be mentioned by anyone again. Banger character

His is pretty basic tbh! Even in some of the non replica productions his design stayed relatively the same compared to replicas lol. No improving upon perfection ig. Based mostly on Tony Timberlake fromm early London. Bustopher is underrated but I can understand why because what’s there to even say about this guy

I LOVE it when they give Bustopher face lines and detailing. Gives him so much personality. So posh so fun. Yet that aspect only adds to how many old people I end up drawing. If I draw one more wrinkle I’m going to turn into one

Jennyanydots ~ Motherly, Controlling, Complacent

Grgrgr Jenny gave me the most trouble out of anyone… . And I love Jenny sm </3

I initially tried drawing her in the outfit she wears during the tap number as per request, but it was HARD for me to make it look any good. I think I went through maybe four separate drafts until I managed to stop myself before I went insane. So no tap.

Super duper inspired by specific actresses in Broadway, such as Carol Dilley & Anna McNeely. Guys she was pink then. Look at what they took from us. And Anna looks exactly like a Jenny rn without all that theatre makeup. She was literally born for the role idk what else you want me to say

Skimbleshanks! ~ Caring, Punctual, Self-Regarding

YAYY I was the most excited for him. Little train obsessed lad dad ❤️

I think in like once year at a UK tour Geof Garratt wore thigh high warmers and they’re so good grgrgrgaheggr. I don’t think there’s any pictures of it but there is a video of which you’re required to watch. I could unironically gush about his performance for several hours, he’s my absolute favourite Skimble 💋💋 Oh and he’s not dubbed by some Scottish dude this time around which is awesome sauce

Whenever I draw this ginger I typically go with a specific makeup look from Robert Burnett in Broadway.. it’s so good and so fun to draw. I never stray from taking creative liberties at all, but he’s peak Skimble imo. I drew a more angular (and lopsided oops lol) version of the wig but it’s basically the same colour-wise.

Grizabella ~ Proud, Hurt, Indomitable

A big sobbing mess :( Griz makes me sad. Couldn’t make grey or brown hair look good in this case so I went with some of the darker looks like Linda Balgord/Liz Callaway from Broadway and actresses from US tour 5. Kinda wish I went with the design Judi Dench was given cuz WOW it’s actually pretty good.

Problem I had with my first draft of her is that she looked way too ugly. Now this time she looks too pretty. I can’t win

Referenced Jacqui Scott for the main idea of the makeup and pose. heavy amounts of mascara tears stained on her face is such an underused element. Those girlies gotta go all out to make me feel emotional. Like damn she really was suffering

I went wild on that mascara but it’s okay it looks kinda cool. Imagine she was crying a waterfall

~

Next part will finish off the rest of the song cats liekk Rumpel/Mungo, Jelly and whoever else isn’t included here idk I already forgot

[highhhfiveee]

mint (mike schmidt x reader)

*minor movie spoiler that isn’t a spoiler fr but kind of is*

tags: suggestiveness, swearing, fluff

oi. this is my first official piece of fanfic on tumblr and i'm excited but also super nervous. i never knew what characters i wanted to write for as most of my fandoms are obsolete tbh (teen wolf and maze runner, i'm looking at you 💔) but after watching the fnaf movie and falling in love with j hutch like i'm 14 again, i wanted to try to write for mike!

i'm sorry if this story sucks tbh. i wrote it pretty quickly, did not edit it in any way (watch for grammar and spelling errors!) and i'm still trying to establish characters and plot and do all this silly billy worldbuilding, but i'll get better! i'm also taking requests for both fluff and smut, so if y'all would like to send anything for me to write, i'll def accept! like i said in my last post, i think i'm gonna redo my tumblr layout so i can feel like a true fanfic/misc blog lmao so ignore its under construction phase ((: i hope y'all enjoy this though bc i've been thinking ab mike schmidt all night

i have sooo many ideas, but between last night and this morning, i’ve been thinking of abby’s babysitter!reader (bc fuck max).

you’ve been channel surfing in the living room since you put abby down, working with her to lock down a nightly routine. ideally, she’d bathe, eat dinner (god willingly), brush her teeth, and then you’d be able to get her to lay in bed and doze off. some nights, this required dessert.

“you just brushed your teeth though. it’s gonna taste gross.”

“not if it’s one of those mint chocolate things you always have.” you straighten up, eyes squinted at the child before you; she meant the small, sometimes melted, squares of Andes mint chocolate you always kept. they’d always been your favorite, a guilty pleasure in this fucked up world.

you hadn’t been babysitting abby for long, and you didn’t realize that she'd been watching you crush the chocolates like it was light work. they were easy to eat, and once you had one, you found out how easy it was to eat another one, and then another one, and then another one until there was a mountain of crinkled foil next to your phone and chocolate smeared on your face.

"please, y/n. just one," you didn't exactly know if it was a lie. abby was convincing, able to break you down with her eyes, pleading and puppy-dog like. "please."

you cave, leaning down to brush her hair back from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on the skin. with pursed lips, you whisper, "fine, but tomorrow night. i have to get some more."

abby does nothing but smile, eyes fluttering closed. you stay with her for a bit like you always do--watching the way her chest rises and falls, and how her features twitched with slumber. features scarily similar to mike's.

of course she'd look like mike. they were siblings, no shit, but the resemblance occupied your brain. there was sweet abby, with her colorful clothes and scribbled drawings and persuasive aura, and then there was mike.

you shake your head, giving abby another kiss before exiting her room. you didn't need to think about mike. he wasn't what you were here for. you'd come to abby's school as an aide and after she'd privately confided in you about her home life, you knew you had to help her. you would do anything for her, even if that meant taking care of her while suppressing the overwhelming school girl crush you had on her older brother.

mike was a bit older than you, which didn't scare you at all. guys in their early 20s were rarely mature, doing anything they could just to fuck; but guys in their late 20s, mike specifically, had only ever shown you couth, surprisingly.

for nearly two months, five mornings a week, the sound of the door being unlocked would ring out. you'd turn to see sunshine pouring into the living room, enveloping mike's brooding figure in a radiant golden glow.

he'd hang his coat on the wall hooks, drop his bag down to his feet, and give you a small but warm smile. you'd try to not to embarrass yourself as you two made small talk, packing up your things.

you always left unscathed, but recently it'd been hard. you were always thinking about him, dreaming about him even; how his hair would feel between your fingers, how his hands would feel on your face, how his face would feel between your thighs.

the thought is washed away, drowned out by the sound effects of a loud infomercial when the door opens, and you're turning and squinting against the wash of pale yellow on your face. mike steps forward with a, "hey, y/n" and you meekly raise your hand to wave.

he hangs his hoodie up to reveal his shoulder blades flexing under an uncharacteristically tight navy blue sweater. you can't help but stare.

"just wake up?" his voice is raspy, but he's still facing the wall, rummaging in his bag for something.

"um...yeah. brain's still turning on," you lie, tossing the thick blue blanket off your body. you didn't sleep at all, kept up with your thoughts and the last of your Andes mints (though you loved her, you couldn't give abby your last ones).

"hm," he mutters, finally turning to you but keeping his hands behind his back. something crinkles in them and you raise your eyebrow at the tired yet amused expression he takes with you. it's enough to make your body hot and you awkwardly pull at the collar of your shirt, fanning yourself off.

"hot?" the gravelly tone sends you into a giggling fit, shaking your head as you shoot to your feet. you have to leave before you do or say something you regret.

"uh, yeah, it was s-super hot under that...um...blanket. i shouldn't have worn sweatpants to s-sleep," you stutter, nodding your head along with mike as he steps closer to you. this couldn't be the moment something happens, right? it'd been so casual between you too, very friendly, and he'd never shown any signs of trying to do anything with you before. why would he choose right now, so spontaneously?

he stands before you, the slightest bit taller than you. you're able to see every pore, every freckle, every microscopic detail in his eyes and lips.

you open your mouth, hoping your heart doesn't fall out, to ask what's happening, when he reveals a bag of Andes mints, one bigger than you've ever seen.

your mouth stays open in surprise. "wh-"

"abby's been talking about them. i wondered where she found out about them but--" he nudges his head towards the coffee table, where a small mound of green wrappers lay. you swear under your breath, cursing yourself for not throwing them away like you usually do.

"i'm sorry," you whisper, blushing beyond measure as you begin to frantically pack your things. "i should be more careful with that stuff."

"god, y/n, you're saying it like it's coke," mike chuckles. he sets the bag down on the couch and reaches out to you, placing his hand on yours as you shove things into your tote. "hey."

his voice forces you to stop and look up. you melt under his stare just like you do with abby. the puppy-dog thing must run in the family.

"i feel bad about not being able to pay you yet, and i really appreciate all you're doing. abby told me that you loved those mints, so..."

"thank you, mike," you say over the sound of your pounding heart. you didn't care about the money, you didn't need it. being appreciated by someone who made your heartbeat resonate throughout your body was payment enough. "this is really sweet."

"thank you, y/n. you don't know how much this means to me." You scoff, throwing your tote over your shoulder and looking down at your feet.

"i'm always happy to help." you and mike stand facing each other for what feels like hours, the air as thick as molasses between you. his eyes were squinted, low and dark and intriguing.

you wished you could read his mind. what was he thinking? did his heart do the same thing as yours, wacking against his ribcage with no end in sight? did he stay up thinking about you when he was supposed to be sleeping, imagining how you felt, what you sounded like, how you tasted---

"see you later tonight?" his voice rocks you out of your trance. he's not thinking about you. he's tired, wondering when you'll leave so he can fall into his bed and doze off.

"yeah. tell abby i said i'll see her tonight." your smile is tight as you exit the house, cursing at yourself as you get into your car.

you didn't know how long you could go on like this.

ya, i know this sucks and it isn't really anything but we're gonna work our way through these fics and blurbs to really develop a cute relationship (,: i will still be writing other fics for mike, and possibly using another babysitter!reader in a different universe, but as for now, we're gonna be rocking with these two (: (thinking that we’ll label her as 🌱🍫!reader)

all notes are appreciated (: thanks for reading!

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

omg i love ur page. can u do clueless virgin reader stops in the middle of sex w/ nanami bc she thinks she has to pee? (when its actually her orgasm)

(actual writing under the divider)

Aww thank you!. ^_^

So I had actually worked on something that sort of fit this request but for another character, different fandom. Anyway, long story short, I hated that character for this scenario and ended up deleting it. So after some changes and rewriting, lo and behold! Perfect for Nanami!

Nanami masterlist

“That’s it…relax…you’ll definitely enjoy this…”

His words are whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky. It’s been a while since you started dating Nanami but you didn’t expect him to have this kind of enthusiasm when you finally admitted you were a virgin. It’s not like you didn’t have chances, but you were just a late bloomer on this front. 

There was a lot of nervousness when you first started dating him. At 21, you felt so young and unsure, being with a man of his age and obvious experience. There were some days you couldn’t believe he was dating you but he was so charming, sweet, and respectful of your boundaries. Your inexperience with sex didn’t seem to bother him, and he never teased you or made you feel pressured to do anything with him. 

And he plainly stated he wasn’t actually having sex with you until you figured out what you enjoyed. So right now, he was on a personal mission to explore your body and give you a safe space to explore your sexuality.

Because you kept closing your knees whenever his hands started wandering a little too high, you’re now sitting between his legs, back against his chest, knees over his, your feet planted on the outer sides of his thighs. This way he could keep your legs open with his when he felt you trying to close off. 

His fingers have found your clit, and he’s gently rubbing it in circles with his middle finger, slick from your arousal dripping from your entrance. 

“How does this feel darling?” 

All you can do is whimper at the sensation that’s building inside you. He chuckles, resting his head on top of yours.

“A fine response. But I need actual words. Now, tell me. Do you like this better-“

He gently increases the pressure of the circles he’s making.

“Or this?”

His thumb and middle fingers come together to gently pinch the hardened bud, rolling it in between, and your whimper becomes a strangled shriek as you try to close your legs, held firmly apart by his thighs. 

“Too much,” you whimper. “Too hard. Too sensitive.”

“Ssh. It’s ok. Thank you for telling me.” His entire hand lays flat on your slit, calming your nerves, using all his fingers to resume the gentle circle strokes again.

“Better?”

“Y-yeah…so much…” Those little circles are making you crazy, but it’s the way he’s doing it. So much patience, no rush to get to the main event, just focusing on your comfort. 

“Hm…let’s see how you’re doing inside…”

His thumb takes over the circling motions as his middle finger slips down and gently flirts with the wetness at your core. You’re wholly unprepared as the tip of his finger gently pushes in, making you take in a sharp breath. He pauses, and gently speaks in your ear.

“Relax. Take a breath. It’ll make it easier for what I have planned. I promise it won’t hurt.”

You take in a deep breath and let it out, surprised when you feel the muscles down there release naturally, aided by the stimulation on your clit. His finger pushes in further, curling as it enters, and you marvel at the feeling of it stretching you out. His fingers were so long and thick, and you moan softly at the pressure. A dexterous fingertip makes come hither motions on your inner wall and find that little patch inside you that makes your walls squeeze on his finger with pleasure. He continues to angle his finger that way until your moans fill the room.

“That’s it lovely…keep going…we’ll get you there…” he plants kisses on your neck and shoulder, his free hand coming up to cup your breast, twisting your hardened nipple. All the stimulation causes your hips to buck, mewling at the feeling. You’re helpless to stop it, when you try to struggle, Nanami parts his legs farther, taking yours with him. The exposure and vulnerability adds to your arousal. Your core is dripping, the slickness coating his finger and dripping down to his wrist. 

“Do you think you can take another one?” His hot breath is on your ear. He can’t believe how sexy you look like this, falling apart in his hands, mouth open and making such lewd noises of pleasure. With the remaining brain cells you have you nod, your dripping core begging for a little more. 

Nanami is gentle with his finger as he inserts another one, amazed at how smoothly it goes in, your hole leaking slick as he does so. He feels his cock harden in his pants, straining against the fabric, and he grits his teeth. Someday he tells himself. Not before you’re done learning about your body.

As he continues, your belly fills with heat, energy gathering tightly in your thighs and core. Despite how good his movements feel, you suddenly sense pressure in your abdomen. Your brain jerks you away from the pleasure of his fingers, making you panic slightly.

“Nanami.” You urgently tap his knee to catch his attention. Hearing the tone in your voice, he stops. 

“Everything ok?” His voice is deep, laced with concern. You feel your face burn with embarrassment.

“I…I think I need to pee.” You say in a small voice. God, why couldn’t the floor open up and swallow you whole? 

He hasn’t removed his fingers and chuckles softly. “No you don’t.”

You can’t believe the confidence that he said that with. It was so out of character for him to not listen to you. “No, trust me I do. I feel the pressure in my belly.”

There’s a pause before he softly asks, “Have you ever touched yourself before?”

Oh God why! Blood rushes to your face as you try to not stutter. The honest answer was no, you hadn’t, for various reasons. “No.” you mumble the word, thankful he can’t see your face. “Does it matter?”

“Ah. I see.” He resumes his ministrations on you. Your whole body was unprepared for him to start up again so suddenly and your body almost arches off the mattress. 

“But Nanami…”

“Trust me…and my experience here y/n…” he says to you gently. Need takes over as he picks up his movements, driving the intrusive thought out of your head. He said to trust him…What did he know that you didn’t? 

As your abdominal muscles clench, winding down tightly like a spring, that feeling of pressure coming back but instead you take a deep breath and then…

Your pleasure peaks and your fist the bedsheets, toes curling into the mattress as spasm after spasm rocks you, sobbing his name. His fingers don’t stop, gently pushing you through your orgasm, making sure you feel every last dreg of pleasure before the high starts to fade. 

“Oohh…” You sigh out breathily, in realization. 

Nanami chuckles with satisfaction near your head. 

“Welcome to your first orgasm my dear.”

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[bad268]

Hi can I request Brock Purdy bcs he just look so hawt when the NFL posted that the 49ers are in the building

This picture did something to me pls, I want a fluffy but really hawt smut

Iykyk 😉

In The Building (Brock Purdy X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/NFL

Requested: Clearly (Happy Super Bowl yall)

Warnings: none

Pronouns: Second POV (You/your)

W.C. 691

Summary: Pre-game anxiety requires pre-game reassurance

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~

“You do realize that this is the Super Bowl and not the Met Gala, right?” You complained from your spot on the bed. Brock had woken up impossibly early. From nerves, excitement or just his mental alarm not letting him back to sleep, you will never know. He decided now was the best time to frantically look through his suitcase for his outfit. You groaned as he kept mumbling to himself, causing you to sit up and throw a pillow at him. It hit him in the head, and he finally looked over at you. “You’re walking through a tunnel and then putting on your gear. Do you really need to fuss this much about it?”

“It’s the Super Bowl, and it’s Vegas,” He sighed as he gently threw the pillow back as he stood up and walked to the bed. He sat back on his side as he pulled you into his chest, just needing something, someone, to hold onto. “They’re gonna tear into me unless I look perfect.”

“I swear, no one cares,” You laughed as you rolled yourself up to sit on his lap. “It’s clothes and as long as you’re covered, I do not think they will care. For god’s sake, where is the guy who casually wore a stained t-shirt and jeans to the NFC Championship game? Huh? Where is the carefree attitude? You’re letting everything pile before the pile has even started.”

“It’s stressful being the quarterback, and it’s stressful trying to find something acceptable for the Super Bowl,” he laughed. You gave him a short kiss before standing up and walking to the closet where you hung up a suit you thought he would look good in. Before you could get to the closet, you stopped and pointed at his suitcase. “What about it?”

“Did you bring your entire closet with you?” You accused as you started to put the clothes back in the case. “Do you not remember me packing your suit because you said you didn’t want to stress about it later. This whole conversation could have been avoided, Brock.”

“Oh, I forgot in all the chaos,” He admitted as he stood up to help you clean it up.

“No, go put the suit on. I’ll worry about this while you get in the mindset for the game. The last thing your team needs is a distracted quarterback,” you lectured, pushing him toward the bathroom. “We’ll go get breakfast when you're done and head to the stadium.”

He just needed to calm down and think of it less as a Super Bowl and more a more of a normal game. Otherwise, he would overthink everything. Relatively speaking, it did not take long for him to get in the zone.

And you were off.

Vegas was not known for having a lot of good breakfast places, but the hotel you were staying at had a decent spread. There was stuff that you liked, stuff that he liked, and there was no need to compromise. It was fairly lax so there were not a lot of people around. You both were able to sit down and enjoy the calm before the storm that would be inevitable at the stadium.

When you finished up, it was already time to leave. The car was in front of the hotel, ready to pick up some of the key players and take them to the stadium.

When the car pulled up to the tunnel, all of the other players and their significant others climbed out and were practically flash banged from the paparazzi’s cameras. You two hung back a minute letting the hectic news die down before you faced the masses.

“Are you ready to make your debut?” You asked, grabbing his hand in reassurance as you rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. “You’ll do great, you know.”

“Let’s do this thing,” he said strongly before letting out a breath and moving to step out of the car, holding out a hand to you. You walked hand-in-hand down the tunnel through the flashing lights toward the hectic locker room

“And the San Francisco 49ers are in the building.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[cafeinthemoon]

Ever Dream (Apollo x reader)

Chapter 1/1

Wordcount 7,3k

Title Ever Dream

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Symbols ✔ . 1️⃣ . 💛

Warnings: Apollo is extremely inconvenient in the beginning; angst with a soft, bittersweet ending

Tagging ? (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A. Finally I can fulfill my promise and post this little story with Apollo!

At first, he wasn't appealing to me at all, but as his character was developed, I found myself liking him (I basically understood that my lack of interest in him and his fight was due to me not moving on from Hades' loss, since snv doesn't feel the same for me anymore) Also his personality is a bit weird in this one bc I've started to write it before his flashback came out, and since I've wrote so much it would be a waste to restart my work to adjust his depiction to something more "pleasing", so I just kept things this way. But I hope you have fun with it :)

“Come out, come out

Wherever you are [...]

Give in, give in for my touch

For my taste

For my lust”

(Nightwish, Ever Dream)

Summer days might be the favorites among the mortals, for they were long and favorable to the body and the heart, as a good presage for the ones who needed it, but that didn’t apply to you. Yes, as many, you appreciated cheerful encounters of friends under the shadow of a tree on a warmth afternoon, as well as playing games in the city’s lake with your sisters, but none of these small delights were enough to make you enjoy Summer above the other seasons. Honestly, you would be happier during Spring, when the beauty of the flowers would be in its apex, or during Winter, when you would stay long periods at home, in front of a good fire, with warm food and crafting to occupy your hands; even Autumn had a special place in your heart, with its meadows of red leaves and winds whispering mysterious tunes.

The thing is that you used to work as a gardener during Spring and Summer, and this latter was always the most difficult one, for the land where you lived was always too hot for any activity to be possible under midday sun, so you would adjust your routine to work at early morning or when the sunset approached.

It was a hard work: the plants would suffer with the heat, and you must know the right moment of the day to pour water in them, in order to not burn their roots; some of them would even become dusty with the lack of rain, only to be harmed after sudden, summer storms, and it would take an entire day for you to clean the fallen leaves, broken branches and garbage brought by the wind – not to speak about the mud; and, as if none of this wasn’t enough, you would have to fight against seasonal infestations.

It was a lonely work, also: there would be days when you would stay in silence for so long that hearing your own voice after going back home or speaking to yourself during work brought a sensation of strangeness. But you enjoyed the solitude, using it to perfect your abilities and organize your thoughts.

Some would say that you should start thinking seriously about your situation, that is, that you couldn’t live only for the plants and that you were already in the age of considering marriage, but you would just escape from their demands inside the labyrinths of the garden. Not that you would get angry with them, though. You understood their preoccupations, but you were aware of where they came from: they didn’t understand that happiness could have many sources in human life beyond building a family.

And, as long as your own happiness came from the garden, you would stay inside it.

***

If the humans who knew you were the only ones watching your steps with what you’d call an abnormal interest, you could deal with it. But fate wanted things to be complicated for you, so your peculiar, solitary routine hasn’t caught only the mortals’ attention.

It happened that, close to your garden’s location, upon a greenish hill, a temple was built centuries ago. A temple to honor the deity whose powers were always strong across those lands – Apollo, Son of Zeus and Guardian of the Sun, Master of Poetry and Music, and owner of more titles than you could remember. You’ve never seen him in person, though it was said that he used that building as his temporary residence on summer days, which explained the intense temperatures during that time of the year; it also explained why the lights of the temple would be fed until late hours and why there would be sound of chords, drums and high voices all day. You respected the work of the people living there, of course, but you’d appreciate a bit of silence during a period that was so difficult for you, and there you had another reason to show up only when the sun wasn’t shinning in all its splendor.

Little you knew that, from the highest spot of the temple, upon a parapet only accessible to himself, the Lord of that house, to whom all those honors were directed, has been observing that lonely, little mortal who would come every day to take care of her flowers with the same dedication as Heracles by the time he had to fulfill his twelve tasks.

He couldn’t remember when was the first time he saw you: the only thing he knew was that, while he stood at that temple, he couldn’t spend one day without seeing you. Every morning, before his worshipers woke up, Apollo would walk up the stairs that led to the private space where the highest balcony of the temple was, and he would sit at it, with his back leaning on a column, to witness the girl’s arrival and her preparations before work; he would stay there, watching in ecstatic silence as she separated her tools, touched each plant with those delicate fingers of hers, examined each spot of them and gave them the necessary treatment, smiling and, sometimes, mumbling to herself.

Not only he noticed your diligence and dedication, but it didn’t escape him how much you were beautiful. Yes, you were surrounded by appealing fruit trees, flowers of the most interesting shapes and shades, all of them between intricate green walls that only added in majesty, yet your figure caught the man’s eyes above all of them – eyes that were trained to not miss anything that could be pleasing to one’s sight.

The god would cheer at himself with the fact that you were oblivious to this, while he, at that height, was completely out of your sight. It was like in the old days, where he would observe the mortal realm from his spot at the Olympus, except that this time there would be no difficulties in reaching you: as one of the city’s inhabitants, you were basically his neighbor, and knowing that building like the palm of his hand, he knew the secret shortcuts that would lead him to your garden’s gates.

At first, Apollo would state that his morning observations were just a hobby, and that with all the work to keep him occupied at the temple and the attentions he would get from the worshipers – particularly from the priestesses – he would soon forget about you and your flowers. However, he wasn’t fool to the point of lying to himself for too long, and soon he would admit that he was interested in you. Well, he was already desiring you, in a way that didn’t happen since… a few centuries ago, maybe by the time of that temple’s inauguration, when he would lure some of the city’s mortals into it. And now, there he was, leaving the comfort of his bed every morning, sometimes even before the sun came up to greet him, for anything but to catch the exact moment when your feet stepped into that garden, wondering how your voice would send shivers all over his body in case you whispered in his ears with the same docility you did to the flowers, how soft your skin would feel if he caught your frail form between his arms, and the heat he would sense once his lips touched yours.

This extended for days, until he finally had enough.

That morning, he watched you as always, but this time something inside him awakened, and he just let his body move away from the parapet and reach for his private chambers, where he caught his best garments and a pair of golden sandals, and then wandered to outside the temple, to the narrow path behind the hill, covered in stones and sand, only known by himself, and in one minute or two, he was standing at the garden’s entry.

Today is the day. The day when I shall make you mine.

***

It should be a pacific, ordinary morning of work at the garden.

You arrived at the usual hour, reached for the spot of the garden where you started working the day before, separated your tools and went to take care of your tasks.

You’ve spent one hour, maybe two like this, so concentrated in what your were doing that the sudden rustling between the leaves somewhere behind you made you startle and drop your garden shears. You turned around…

And found quite a spectacle for that time of the day.

Coming out of a narrow space between two green walls, you saw a young man dressed in garments that you supposed to be only appropriate for the Summer Festivities, not so far in the land’s calendar: he had a white toga around his body, which hems and details appeared to be sewn with golden threads; golden were also the strappy sandals he had on his feet, as well as the laurel wreath on his head. The first rays of the sun reached the space between you at that hour, and the golden light poured itself over the man’s figure as the hug of a beloved one, revealing that the metallic ornaments he carried were, in fact, gold, and conceding a singular glimmer to his eyes, which you thought to be of the same shade. But that wasn’t the only peculiarity seen in his appearance: his hair, falling on straight strands to his waist, were of a soft pink that reminded you of some of the flowers in your garden, but a comparison wasn’t possible, since they were out of sight at that moment.

Yes, the visitor was a beautiful man, though eccentric, so your first thought was that he was the son of a noble family that came to the city to honor the god of the Sun at the temple beside your garden.

He’s probably thinking that the garden is part of the temple’s territory. I must clarify this mistake and lead him back through the right path.

And you were going to do that very thing, but he was faster.

Without waiting for an invitation or at least a question about his presence there, the man approached your spot and stopped in front of you, observing your tiny person surrounded by flowers and tools with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief: was this girl really engaging in physical work this early?, his eyes seemed to ask.

You stepped behind, closer to a bush of wild roses, but glanced over your shoulder before touching the thorns – something that made the stranger giggle. You didn’t like that at all.

The first words said between you were his.

– I’ve always said that wild roses were not my favorites, but the truth is that they’ve scared me and charmed me at the same time, and I just couldn’t deal with it – he stretched an arm to touch a spot above and behind you; not disguising the feeling that he was closer than a stranger should be, your eyes followed his movement and found his fingers reaching for a flower of the bush – A ridiculous mistake from an arrogant heart… – and, turning his golden eyes to you, – Don’t you think, my flower?

Your eyes widened, but you managed to control your mouth to not scoff at those words: you’ve been working at that garden for too long now, and from time to time there would be one and other man who would come to celebrate the Summer Festivities at Apollo’s temple, many of them from privileged houses… and about whom you’ve already had a clear opinion.

Let me see… Extravagant clothing at this time of the day, bad sense of direction, abnormally elevated self-confidence and no regard for personal space. Of course, another womanizer who relies on cheap flirting to win innocent hearts. He knows that this type of chatting only works when the speaker is young and beautiful like him, but things would be very different if we had an old, naughty man in his place.

You knew that, if you didn’t do anything to get rid of him, he would bother you for the rest of the morning, and you wouldn’t be able to complete the works of the day, but fortunately you also knew how to deal with this kind of situation, so you decided to act right now...

By moving aside and bending down to grab the garden shears that he made you drop. You stood up again and started removing the small, green leaves from its blades as you spoke.

– My Lord, I suppose you entered here by accident – you started; and, looking into his eyes, still with the shears’ blades up – Because, you see, despite the proximity, this garden doesn’t belong to Apollo’s temple. No festivities will happen here.

It was with a bit of diversion that you observed the bright smile fading from his pretty face, but you remained impassible, for you were aware that this one was an experienced gentleman and wouldn’t give up so easily.

And he didn’t.

– I must be indelicate and disagree with you, Miss – he moved his hand away from the flower, but, with an eye on your shears, he hid both hands behind his back – For a garden is a never-ending festivity itself, and the one that is going on right here owes all its beauty to the work of your hands.

You swallowed. He did have a way with words, then. But not even this would be enough for you to allow delays in your routine, and you made that very clear.

– If this is the case, my Lord, I must make use of the same indelicacy and interrupt our conversation here – in a swift move of your hands, the shears closed and opened twice with a metallic whisper – And keep working on the garden’s beauty.

And, without waiting for a response, you turned your back on the man and restarted to prune the bush with the roses, just as you were doing when he arrived.

Not even this was able to shake the young man’s confidence, for he just stepped aside and continued to talk, caressing the flowers at the same time. No irritation or offense was sensed in his tone.

– Then I must leave you to complete your mission – and, after a pause, – But I’m trapped here, and you’re the only one who can release me... by letting me know your name.

Your hands stopped and you turned to him again. You weren’t willing to reveal it to him, but if that was going to make him go away, you would do it.

– Y/n s/n.

The young man opened a satisfied smile. But, instead of saying his own name in return, he just stepped back and nodded.

– For this I will be forever grateful, my y/n. I will make sure that Apollo’s blessing falls over you and your work concerning this celebration of beauty.

And without waiting for a response, he turned away and left.

***

If only the Festivities in honor of the Lord of the Sun were shorter, or if your garden was located in somewhere else, the strange events of yesterday involving that extravagant individual would be just a funny story to remember in an encounter between your friends, or even something you would forget after a week.

But, unfortunately, things don’t always go as we plan, so to your surprise – and exasperation – the situation happened again in the next day.

You were pouring water on the soil, in a spot of the garden not so far from the one where your first encounter happened, having only the sounds of the water falling from the can and the early birds singing on the trees as your company, when the rustling noise of indiscreet steps upon the grass caught your attention.

You turned around… and found the shinning figure of the young man smiling at you, his right hand leaning on the tree at his side, his golden eyes upon you with the same enthusiasm of the last day.

You bit your lip.

I can’t believe it. Did he forget everything that happened yesterday?

If he noticed your displease or if he chosen to ignore it, you didn’t know, but he started a casual conversation without waiting for an invitation.

– Good morning, dear y/n! – he left his spot beside the tree and walked toward you with no sign of embarrassment – As I can see, the festivities continue today.

You just gave him a silent nod in reply. The man’s smile widened in contentment.

– That’s good to hear, for today I bring you something that you might appreciate…

Only then you noticed the object he was carrying on his left hand: a bracelet made of gold, in the shape of a vine and with a white gem in its center, with rays surrounding it as an imitation of the sun. You looked at the object and hesitated.

– My Lord, it is not…

But when the words were still crossing your lips, you felt a strong hand holding your wrist and pulling it forward, making you drop the watering can; before you did anything, the man put the bracelet around your wrist and spent a moment admiring it, with your tiny hand between his.

You even tried to pull it back, but the he held you in place. You swallowed.

Heavens, his appearance is the most deceiving thing I’ve ever seen! I don’t know many soldiers who possess this strength!

Because of this, you understood that you might have been in danger since the other day, so that time you kept your mouth shut and waited to see what his next step would be.

And you didn’t know if you should feel relieved or shocked when you found it out.

– Now you were granted the necessary permission, my dear – he spoke with softness; and, pulling you closer to whisper in your ear, – The way to the Summer Festivities has opened to you at the Temple of the Great Apollo.

You had no time to respond, to move away or to show any form of refusal. The man, still holding your hand, pulled you with him and started running between the green walls and trees, rushing toward the depths of the garden and not allowing you to stop.

You glanced behind and your heart ached when you saw your work unfinished and the watering can forgotten on the spot it fell, the remaining water leaking and soaking the soil.

***

The path through which he led you, as well as the environment you found when you entered the temple was what you would sense in a dream: in one moment, he was carrying you by the hand through the green labyrinth, in a pace that defied time; in the next one, you were inside high walls of white, imposing columns with marble flowers surrounding them from their highest to their lowest spot, and countless tables of gold with goblets, jars and trays full of fruits, sweets and other tempting treats that were taken by uninhibited, joyful people dressed in flowing fabrics and barefoot, running, hopping and dancing between themselves to the frenetic sound of chords, flutes and drums. The place was a mixture of sounds, colors and smells that confused and numbed your senses, in a way that you were only able to stand thanks to the strong hold of the young man.

Despite that, you still noticed how strange was that those people seemed to move to the music as if they were just one, yet they acted like they weren’t seeing each other, lost in their particular world, to the point you wondered if they knew what they were doing or if they were just caught under a spell.

Are they really happy, or are they forced into this? It’s unsettling...

The people only showed a believable reaction when you arrived… Well, actually, when they put their eyes on the young man, and started reaching for him with no regard for your presence, pushing, bumping and even stepping upon your feet.

In a way you couldn’t understand, he opened his arms wide to receive them without letting go of your hand, with a satisfied smile on his face that seemed to light up when the first rays of sunshine entered the place, embracing him with the same passion as the people around.

It was when a thought crossed your mind as fast as those rays, and you stared at him with a knot in your stomach.

Could it be that he…?

The chorus around you, chanting the same words in delight, was the confirmation for it.

– Apollo! Apollo-sama! You finally arrived, Apollo-sama! Please don’t make us wait this long for you again, Apollo-sama!

His face brightened up with the call of the humans, as if it absorbed their joy and turned it into vital force, returning it to them with the warmth of the sun; to them, he was god, father, husband and master, and he was more than happy in taking all those roles for himself, in what you saw as a hungry, even predatory way. Though you still found it a beautiful thing to observe, you no longer saw any resemblance with a man in his figure.

He was something else.

Feeding himself with their energies and keeping them gravitating around him is like a diversion to him. How scary.

And with the same diversion, he pulled you to a tight embrace, giving you no choice to walk away, for many people came to him and were no dismissed, so that you were trapped between him and them, and you didn’t know for how long you would be able to breathe.

Somehow, he managed to walk among his worshipers and take you with him before you in fact were smothered, and without decreasing in enthusiasm, he looked around and chanted:

– My children, my flowers! Another day of Summer came to bless you! Enjoy it, cherish it like it’s your last!

Immediately, the people obeyed him and, as if slowly forgetting about his very presence, restarted the celebration, dancing and jumping around and opening the way for you two at the same time, not really realizing what they were doing.

Not wanting to join them and not being able to release yourself from Apollo’s grip, you had no choice but to follow him.

***

You walked up spiral, white stairs with golden banisters, ran through a corridor and ended up in front of an enormous pair of doors, which he opened with a slight touch of his hand.

They revealed a wide room that, even in your lack of experience in these matters, you knew to be worthy of a god: everywhere you looked, you saw comfortable chairs and couches, covered with satin sheets and surrounded by trays of sweets and fruits, and countless jars of wine; there was also a small fountain pouring water, with a jar and cups around it. You also saw books, parchments and musical instruments ready to be used. Everything there was arranged to display beauty and pleasure, as expected from its owner.

Once you stepped inside, you heard the sound of the keys turning to lock the doors from inside and shivered.

– My y/n, will you follow me to the balcony? – Apollo passed to your side – There’s something I need to reveal to you, but it has to be in an appropriate place!

And, without waiting for your response, he tightened his grip around your wrist and pulled you across the room, to reach the said balcony.

You passed under an arc with a pair of curtains of a peach shade and found yourself in a place that could serve as a common room of a human house by its largeness, except for the fact that it was uncovered; on it, there was wine, fod and water as well, and a couch twice the size of the ones inside the room, yet none of those objects interfered while you walked among them.

Apollo stopped at the parapet with you by his side. With his arm stretched over it, he indicated the entire view.

– Let your pretty eyes enjoy what’s in front of them with no shame, my dear – he laughed – Trust me, the view of your lands from the Olympus is no match for this!

And you were, in fact, impressed with what you saw.

From there, you were able to spot various things, from the mountains that surrounded the city, passing through the town itself, with its marketplace and daily movement, to nearer places… such as your garden, its open fields and the very spot where you were working this morning when Apollo arrived and abducted you.

Your face burned with the thought.

He has been spying on me from here? Since when…?

You never had the opportunity to inquire him on this, because he had no shame in telling you the whole story.

– Since this Summer started, though I cannot precise the day, I’ve been trapped in this balcony, just as I am now – he turned to you with a strange glimmer in his eyes; you sensed his hand letting go of your wrist and wrapping itself around your waist, bringing you closer as he spoke – I’ve been trapped by you, my flower, for I couldn’t spent one morning without seeing you from here, cherishing with your whole figure, your steps, the work of your hands, all for your precious garden…

You put your hands between you and him, in an attempt to prevent him from approaching even more.

– My Lord, with all the respect, this is my work – you managed to speak – I would never be able to properly take care of a garden if I refused to pour my heart into it…

The god’s response was to widen his already present smile, giving to it a hint of something that would be called presumption if he was a mortal man.

– I know it! I know well how these things work, and for this I am jealous – he caressed your face for an instant, his eyes swallowing each traits of yours with greed – I am jealous of your flowers, of your trees, and everything that has been blessed by the touch of your hands…

You gasped.

– My Lord, I think this is going too fa…

Your words were cut off by his next act, which consisted in wrapping his arms around you and lifting you from the floor, taking you to the couch you saw before, not so far from your spot on the parapet. There he sat you down, then knelt to take off your sandals – of course, without missing the chance to let his fingertips wander through your feet and legs. With no visible ways to escape this situation, you could only observe the scene in silence.

The door is locked, I don’t think I could open it as fast as he closed it, he’s too strong for me to put a physical fight and is too lost in his own fantasies to hear a word I say. I see no solution besides climbing up the parapet and jump.

While this thought was still crossing your mind (and your eyes glancing at the parapet), Apollo was already climbing the couch. You tried to move away, but he was faster: holding your jawline, he pulled you close to him, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

– I beg you, my little flower… stop making me jealous… pour your heart to me… be mine…

You opened your mouth to speak, to reply, to try and reason with him one last time, to ask for his divine favor and beg him to let you go, but Apollo didn’t even give you the time to breathe: convinced that actions would teach you better than words, he covered your mouth with hungry kisses, his tongue reaching for yours in a hurry, his hands grabbing your body with voracity. With the lack of air, your lungs started to burn and your eyes got filled with tears.

Your hands, still free, pulled him away by his chin; he stared at you in incredulity.

– Please… my Lord… – you forced your words out, alternating them with gasps – Please… reconsider…

For the first time, Apollo seemed to have his patience tested, and the slight twist in the color of his eyes instilled fear in your heart like you’ve never felt before.

– Too late to think, my y/n… It’s time to act.

He pushed himself upon you on the couch and a second kiss happened, longer and hotter. Now that your attempt to stop him failed, desperation was taking over you, leaving you with two choices: letting him continue or dying for opposing to a god’s will.

The latter seemed less painful for you, so you opted for it.

Beside the couch, just like the other seats at that room, there was a small table with a metallic jar on it; you glanced at it when Apollo let go of your mouth and brought his kisses to your neck, and supposed that it was full. An idea came to you, but you had to be careful.

If I fail at this, it’s over for me.

With slow movements, you managed to bring your body closer to the table’s side, taking the god with you, leaving him too occupied in his caresses to notice anything around. You even reciprocated some of his touches to disguise your nervousness, and waited until you were sure that your hand would reach the jar’s wing.

When the moment came, you stretched your left arm… and your fingers closed around its wing, lifting it from the table with all the strength you could find.

Everything happened too fast for your eyes to follow: catching him in a surprise was your only and greatest advantage, and you managed to do it. The jar flew from the table and hit Apollo’s head, forcing him away from you and dropping the laurel wreath from his hair; confirming your prediction, the jar was full, and the water spread all over the place as the metal clanged against the floor.

You wasted no time: you dragged your body out of the couch and fled the balcony, leaving your sandals and a paralyzed, dismayed Apollo behind. You crossed the room like a ray and somehow unlocked the door easily despite your shaking hands; not only this, but you had the nerve to take the key with you and lock the door from outside to slow the man who would certainly come after you.

***

Your feet barely touched the stairs while you walked down. Behind your back, there was still silence, but you knew it wouldn’t take long until Apollo reached the door and found a way to open it, so you wouldn’t stay to see what was going to happen.

You soon were back to the wide room where his worshipers were celebrating, and it was with no surprise that you found them as happy as before, and that, as you joined the crowd to reach the exit, they barely remembered you. Still, you couldn’t help finding it scary to be squeezed and pushed to all sides by those strangers, who screamed, sang and danced with no regard for each other and for themselves, as victims of a sinister spell.

***

The image of you running away from him was the most terrifying of the nightmares.

Apollo could have ran after you, grabbed you and pulled you back to the balcony. He could have also stretched his hand toward you and used his golden threads to wrap your body and force you to stay, to submit to him. He even managed to raise his hand while you turned your back to him and moved away, passing under the arc that separated the balcony to the rest of the room… but he didn’t do anything.

He just stood there, paralyzed by the surprise with your reaction and the resulting dizziness in his head, his vision darkening as he came to the shameful conclusion.

What I did… there was nothing beautiful about it.

***

The sun was higher in the sky when he regained his consciousness and left the balcony. It must have been one hour or two, judging by its position now – long enough for the effects of the strike to diminish. His head hurt so much that he was sure he would be dead if he was human.

He left the balcony and passed by a mirror, not so far from its entry. He spotted the bruise on his forehead and flinched: it was darker, deeper than he first imagined. Not that he should be worried about having a permanent scar, of course, but it would ache for days.

The god crossed the silent room and stopped by the doors. One look to the lock and he noticed the absence of the key; the shadow of a smile came to his lips.

Clever girl. Trying to slow me down.

He raised his left hand and, working with his golden threads, he involved the doors and pushed them out of their hinges, destroying both with a thunderous sound. He walked out of the room in firm steps, the wreckage cracking under his golden sandals as he approached the stairs and walked them down.

In a minute, he has reached the first floor, where his worshipers continued to celebrate, yet this time a wave of uneasiness has spread silently among them, clearly provoked by the sound of wrecking materials upon there.

Of course, he was eager to leave and start chasing after you, but he was empathetic with the ones who were there just to love him, and made sure they were all calmed down by his words; with this, they were free to go back to their worshiping, knowing that their Lord would be back in a few moments.

He left the temple and rushed to the garden, as his feet were led by instinct to the place that first connected you, but it was with no surprise that he saw you weren’t there; you didn’t even use the garden as escape route. Still, his heart didn’t ache less with the sight of your tools on the soil, and your flowers abandoned, for they meant only one thing.

Not only you were gone, but you weren’t coming back.

***

Autumn came sooner to those lands that year.

The Temple of the Sun closed its gates long before the last week of Summer, and the worshipers returned to their homes with a strange weight in their hearts; it was clear that their god wasn’t content, but the reason was only known by himself, and perhaps as an act of mercy, he protected them from his wrath by sending them away, assuring them of their innocence and promising a warmer season of festivities for the next year.

The days quickly became short, and the winds of the new season were colder than they were in the previous years; the city’s inhabitants were caught in a surprise, and even feared what Winter has reserved for them. The streets were empty, the markets saw their clientele grow thin, the richest traveled to distant lands and the common people were hidden inside their houses. In the wild, the beasts and the small creatures were sharing the same difficulties, and just as it happened with the humans, there was no guarantee that they would make it through the longer period of cold.

Apollo, on his turn, stood in that house alone, instead of traveling back to his place and his divine fellows at the Olympus: he missed their company, but had no strength to face them after the ugliness he created; it has been a monstrosity and a shame, and this was something he must endure all by himself. And so he did it, spending his days and nights wandering among the cold walls of marble, inside which the sound of chords, voices of adoration and the wine being poured in the goblets wouldn’t be heard, and the echo of his own steps were his only partner; the fires lightened by his followers stopped making him warm even before they turned into smoke and cinders, the sweetness of their incense made him sick and the golden altars and objects of devotion turned gray to his eyes.

All because of what he did to you. Because in his eagerness to make you stay, he ended up scaring you away, and the sun that should have kept you content and safe almost burned you to death. How, he asked himself, how did he deprive love from its natural beauty, he who lived to exalt the beautiful? But silence was the only thing to reply.

***

Apollo visited your garden every morning, staying there for a while before returning to his temple and to his dark meditations. Protecting his physical form from the cold with a gray cloak, he wandered through the natural walls that were once green, but now had only brown and red to offer to his sight; the grass was now a shadow of what they were, just dried vegetation that would crack and whiter under his feet, and the flowers came undone to the touch of his fingers.

Many times he passed by the spot where he abducted you, and tears would fill his eyes as he looked at the watering can and the tools rotten on the cold soil, useless after so long time without executing their functions. One morning, he even considered touching them, but when he approached his hand no remnants of your spirit could be sensed in them, and he moved away.

Well, your presence just vanished from the garden itself, and even from the town: sometimes, he would disguise himself among the mortals and seek for your face in the corners of the streets, but he knew the search was worthless. You were long gone.

Actually, you left and hid on the other side of the land, and even your acquaintances haven’t heard about you since Autumn began. But even you couldn’t deny that the season was less merciful that year… and it didn’t take long for you to realize it had something to do with the episode at Apollo’s House. Maybe he couldn’t accept that a mortal woman defied him, and decided to punish her entire land in return; or maybe he just decided to leave sooner, and with him Summer has left. It was hard to be sure when it came to the gods.

However, as much as you weren’t willing to try and seek for his favor against your will in order to save the people of the city, innocent and defenseless against Nature, your heart has been yearning for your garden, your true house, where your happiness and strength and life purpose were. You’ve been struggling to stay in your hideout and wait until the god’s wrath was over, but you just couldn’t take it anymore.

One morning, despite the cold and the adversities, you dressed up and traveled back there. You had no idea of what you were going to find once you stepped into your beloved garden, and a thousand nightmares haunted you while you were on your way, and the times when you thought of giving up and return to the hideout weren’t few…

But all of this noise disappeared when you found yourself, in fact, standing before the garden’s gates. A breeze passed by you at that moment, coming from inside the garden, and sent a chill through your body – a chill that reached your heart.

You forced your feet to move ahead.

As you walked, farther from the entry and closer to the depths of the garden, you noticed that the sensation of loneliness that you were anticipating didn’t come. Yes, the flowers were dead, the grass was dry and the birds disappeared from the trees, but you had this strange feeling telling you that you weren’t the only living being wandering among the reddish vegetation.

A sudden instinct led your feet to the very place where your watering can and shears were left the day you were taken away by Apollo. Were they in the same place, still waiting for your return? You’d only know if you reached there.

And you did. And they were there. Covered in dirt, dead leaves and ivy.

But they weren’t alone. Someone was watching them in silence, standing among the desolation as if they were just a part of it that was waiting for you to come back as well.

And, perhaps, they were, for when they turned to you, your heart dropped.

It was him. It was him, there was no way for you to be mistaken.

The golden bright in his eyes has faded away, and so was his smile. The pink of his hair was no longer glowing, and the paleness on his skin was unsettling. He was still the god of the Sun, but the Sun just settled.

Suddenly, you were scared. What if he was there waiting to cease your existence in revenge? What if that was just a vision to deceive you, and you were now in a new trap, from which you had no chance to escape like the first one?

You tried to move your feet, but they wouldn’t obey you. Your heart ached inside you, and your eyes were getting filled with tears.

Is this how I’m going to die, then?

Apollo left his spot and walked toward you. He was still silent, but no sign of his intentions could be sensed, and you were too scared to try and guess them. Still, something wasn’t right – and when you finally had the courage to look straight to his face, you understood what it was.

From his eyes you saw tears rolling. And in his expression there was only room for incredulity and pain. It was when you knew: it wasn’t a vision; it was really him. And he couldn’t believe you were there.

Apollo stopped before you and you flinched, not knowing what to expect. You shut your eyes tight… and no touch, no extravagances nor punishment came.

You opened them again and found the proud god kneeling on the dirt soil, taking his cloak from his shoulders and leaving it beside him on the ground, his eyes glued on you all the time, as if you could disappear at the slightest distraction.

You didn’t know how long you stood like this, having only the winds to voice your anguish, but the silence became unbearable, and you opened your mouth to speak – but, as always, he was faster.

– Forgive me.

Two words only, but enough to shake your spirit and think of how strange reality could become. A god apologizing? When would you imagine such a thing?

– Forgive me, my flower – he repeated, since you stood quiet – For those things I’ve done weren’t but terrifying.

He stretched his hand to touch your clothes, but gave up on the gesture as to prove his feeling of shame.

Again, your heart ached, and your mouth dried out. You couldn’t just stand there with no reaction, no word, after traveling for so long to reunite with your beloved garden. But you didn’t know what to do or what would be right, so you just let your body decide.

You knelt on the soil too, before the astonished god, and didn’t try to stop yourself when you saw your arms throwing themselves around him, your head resting on his shoulder, and your skin shivering to the warmth of that embrace. You should be scared, you should be aware of any spell working at that very moment, you should be disgusted to see him there – but you weren’t.

– Yes, Apollo-sama – you murmured, not recognizing your own voice – They were terrifying. But I’m no longer scared.

And that was true. All your fear was leaving. And with the first signs that the Autumn was going away with it, you were strangely in peace.

[seredelgi]

Sweet Punishment- pt.2

fandom: Attack On Titan/ Shingeki No Kyojin

pairing: Dom!Levi Ackerman x Sub!Fem!Reader, Levi Ackerman x You

summary: After Eren gets entrusted to Levi, you have a hard time adjusting to his late shifts and his change of behavior. You miss his touch and you miss the sex, but you want to be a good girl for him, so you try your hardest to repress your urges, until he busts you.

rating: Mature, 18+

warnings: dom!levi, dom!levi, sub!reader, smut, sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don't try it at home lol), penetration, vulgar language, brief choking, degradation, dry humping (even though it's not very dry, if u know what i mean), praise kink, just a tiny bit, spit kink, I'm so sorry, but he turns me insane NO SPOILERS

word count: 3.5 k

a/n: ok so this was born bc I'm so not done with this man, and also I had a need to depict smut with him in that freaking white tee he's got on in s3 so yeah, enjoy.

Part 1

He’s been so stressed out lately. Things have changed a lot since Eren has turned out to be a Titan Shifter and has been entrusted to him. Levi comes back home so much later, so much more tired than he used to. You miss him like crazy, but you don’t wanna be a burden, too. He’s got so much in his mind, the last thing he needs is you acting like a baby and demanding more time from him.

This is what you get for being a soldier’s woman, after all. You knew this was part of it, you were already lucky enough to be with him regardless of his position. When you two met years ago he was cold, he was indifferent. It took months for him to admit that it was a facade, put up so that he wouldn’t get too attached. He ended up catching feelings anyway, and at that point, it was “better to keep you close and be able to protect you”- in his own words.

He likes his job. You know it and try to respect it, but you feel him slipping away recently, you feel him so distant and you really need him to make you feel loved. You miss his touch, his kisses, you miss being fucked. It’s been a while since you two last had sex, and being that the last time you tried to pleasure yourself you got taught a lesson, you were practically abstinent in every way. You spent endless days thinking about him, and you dreamed about sex practically every night.

But you can’t think to burden him with your flimsy desires when he’s got the fate of your people dawning down on his shoulders.

When he opens the door of the room that late evening he looks no different than he has in the last few weeks: cold, distant, absolutely worn out. He’s just got out of the shower, and he’s got that long-sleeved white t-shirt on that you love so much, but his black uniform trousers remind you that right now he doesn’t belong to you. You can see it in his eyes, two dark slits, probably still reliving the events of that day.

You’re on your bed, reading a new book as you wait for the oven alarm to go off. You’re starving, and by the looks of it, he is too.

He drags himself onto the bed, and you take a look at him while he takes hold of your book by the spine and closes it shut with one hand, putting it aside and crawling lazily on top of you, his face cradled in the curve of your neck, he huffs softly upon your skin.

It’s been a while since he’s dared to be this intimate with you, and even before that, he’s never allowed that to himself very often, always keeping everything inside, never asking for much. That’s what drove you to shut the hell up about your needs, you didn’t want him to think you’re weak.

You’re caught off guard by this sudden closeness, and you hum quietly into the silence that’s comfortingly surrounding you two right now. Your heart starts to pound a bit faster, but as he sweeps his hands underneath your shoulders to keep you closer you start to relax into his embrace. Who knows how long it’s gonna last, you better enjoy it.

You feel him breathe in your scent, and the kind of noise that he lets go after that takes your breath away and has your thighs squeeze together.

Keep it together, he’s just freaking tired.

“ You smell amazing” he purrs on your warm skin, sending shivers running down your spine as his fingers press ever so tenderly into your delicate flesh.

You chuckle nervously as you try not to focus on how low and husky his voice sounds right now, on how you can feel it reverberate from his chest through yours. He’s so warm, and that fucking white tee he’s got on is just too comfy not to feel the need to hold onto it desperately as you try to refrain from letting you get carried away with all of this.

“ You smell like you had to bark orders all day” you retort, keeping the conversation light even while you know the scent he’s emanating right now is enough to drive you wild.

“ Mhmm” he softly asserts, and his voice is so quiet that you think he’s probably dozing off, before you feel his delicate kiss pressing down on your shoulder, and you open your eyes wide.

It’s a chaste kiss, soft and gentle, and yet it gets your insides in a twirl to feel him press his lips on you while you’re wrapped against his body.

You hadn’t quite grasped how starved you were for him before realizing that one little kiss was enough to set your skin ablaze and have the cozy warmth in your lower abdomen starting to spread. It has never been that fast for you, never that immediate. You usually need some time to get in the right mood or some warming up to get ready. But right now you’re burning hot and desperate for him to keep touching and kissing you like that.

You can’t say that out loud tho, can’t be the whiny little girl that cries for attention as soon as she stops receiving it for a moment too long.

It doesn’t really matter tho, because just as his fingers press harder into your flesh he leaves another quiet kiss on it, and this time you can’t help but audibly moan, the sudden break of that cage of silence so unnerving that you bite your bottom lip, harshly dipping your teeth down on it as some sort of punishment for caving in so easily.

He pops his head up slowly, a kind of stunned expression painting his beautiful features. You feel your cheeks start to warm up underneath his scrutiny, his eyes finding yours big and full of lust.

“ You like this” he states.

You can’t tell if he’s amused by it. A few weeks prior you would’ve been sure that having you being ready for him so easily would’ve sent a proud spark glinting in his eyes, but right now his expression is as cold as it’s been all these past days spent longing for him, and you’re quite sure he must be kind of disappointed.

You shake your head no tentatively, wondering if you could ever look remotely believable as you find yourself hoping for.

His eyes narrow down on your features, on the crimson red of your cheeks, and your heavy breathing. Yeah, Levi might be tired, but he’s certainly not stupid.

He props up on his left hand anyway, letting his right one slowly slide underneath the sheer fabric of your sundress, along the length of your thigh, eliciting another soft whimper from you, and you feel so ashamed that you cover your mouth with your arm, your eyes languid with denial.

“ Then why you mewling like a cat in heat?” he sounds so stern that he almost feels displeased with you, and it kind of hurts to hear him talk to you like that.

Still, you feel the disconcerting need to be strong for him, to be good.

“ I’m just-” you pant, regaining focus, even though all that you really want is for his hand to travel further up your thigh “ a bit sensitive, must be the cycle”

You’re lying. You’re probably in the least fertile phase of it, but you can’t help it, you miss him too much, and having been forbidden to touch yourself, it’s been torture to resist the urges.

You doubt he’s bought it, yet his face is an inscrutable mask right now, and he looks down at you for a few more instants before he suddenly gets a hold of your wrists, pinning them down the mattress without much effort as you catch your breath.

He stares you down as if you were his prey, and honestly, too dizzy with arousal, too scared of letting him know the shameful truth of it, you’re less and less able to decipher his emotions, and somehow this only feeds your desire.

“ Spread your legs for me, then” he orders.

You hate to disobey him, but you’re too embarrassed of yourself to give him access to your sweet spot right now since you're sure he’s gonna find it already covered in your juices.

A glint of annoyance darkens his irises when you fail to comply. He huffs, his right knee slipping abruptly in between yours two, having you divaricating your legs wide within a few rough movements.

You muffle a protest, but it dies in your throat immediately as one of his hands lets go of your wrist and heads south, escaping underneath the skirt of your dress and reaching for your baby pink panties, feeling you out roughly through its fabric, finding it drenched.

“ Fuck-” his voice sounds hoarse from the shock of finding you like that already “ You’ve made a fucking mess”

You let out a quiet sob as you appraise his reaction, covering your eyes with the hand of yours he hasn’t gotten pinned down on the mattress anymore.

“ I’m sorry” you let out a shaky breath, unable to keep it all in any longer “ I’m sorry Levi, I just miss you so much”

You’ve held onto all that for weeks as he’s been burdening himself with who knows how much, and now it’s enough for him to touch you through your underwear to have you crumble like that. It’s kind of pathetic.

He stays quiet for a while, and you can only wonder what his face looks like as you keep your eyes shut against the back of your hand, not ready to see his harsh judgment of your weakness.

Then you feel his grip on your wrist loosen, and all his coldness and forcefulness melt into tender little kisses that he leaves down your neck as he reaches for your ear. He looks for your hand, sliding his fingers across the length of your arm and intertwining them with your own.

He uncovers your face to look at you, his expression still stern, but it doesn’t quite look like he’s judging you, more so than himself. You can see the cloud of guilt thundering in his eyes.

His lips are just a breath away from yours when he whispers down upon you:

“ Don’t cry” his tone is definitive, something like that, even if incredibly sweet, when said by him sounds like a precise instruction.

You sniff softly one last time before his lips press tenderly against yours.

He starts kissing you slowly, experimentally, giving you all the time you need to adjust from the previous harshness that he had addressed you to the sweetness that he’s promising you now. And even if reticent at first, you gradually start to melt against him, the feeling of his tongue slipping past your lips a welcomed revelation, one that you feel like saluting by filling his mouth with moans as he sets gently between your legs, his hardness aching against your core.

Gosh, you’ve missed this. You love the taste of him in your mouth so much that it’s almost exhilarating, the way he deepens the kiss at every little whimper you let out, the way your lips are glossy with his saliva when you part to catch your breath and ghost a little impulsive smile on his face.

You can’t help it now, you’re too high on the kiss he’s granted you, and you let your hips lounge up towards his, rutting softly against his erection, your fingers twisting in his locks, and you feel a blissful shiver cover you whole as he breaks the kiss to groan on your parted lips.

You want him so bad you feel like you’re losing control, and you love when he can’t help but be vocal about his arousal, so you’re compelled to continue grinding against him rhythmically, having him elicit all kinds of delicious noises on top of you as he kisses your lips with increasing passion.

Suddenly his right hand is at the base of your scalp, tugging harshly at your hair to have your head lean back enough to give himself better access to your exposed neck.

“ So fucking desperate ” he pants upon your skin “ how long have you been like this?”

“ Too long” you whine as you feel his lips tauntingly ghost above all the sensitive spots he knows so well, biting you tenderly at first, then starting to suck on your skin with euphoric compulsion. It’s the kind of sweet agony that has you sigh ecstatically and arch your back in response, the satisfaction of feeling his mark being imprinted upon you one that you find hard to rival.

When he’s done he leaves your neck pulsing in delight, and he starts grinding against you fiercely as his forehead comes to rest against yours.

“ Been waiting for me to set you free, huh?”

You nod faintly at that, eyes fluttering underneath the weight of your thriving desire, and you kiss his humid lips before looking for the zip of his black trousers, tired of having all those layers interpose between your sexes. You wanna feel his throbbing skin against your hole, wanna hear your juices mix as he rides you.

“ Such a good girl” he praises you, and that’s just too much.

As soon as his cock’s free of his boxers you press him down against you with a tug, his nakedness clashing down the wetness of your panties. He grunts, closing his eyes, reveling in the feeling of your drenched underwear starting to surround his hotness. The simple shift of pressure makes you roll your eyes, and he reaches for your jaw with his right hand to press his thumb on your lips, silently demanding access to your mouth. You open it up right away, and he slips inside, letting you suck on his finger once and then brushing your bottom lip downwards with it, keeping your mouth open beneath him.

“ Wider” he commands, and it’s so clear by the tone of his voice that he’s used to imparting orders, so confident in expecting them to be followed. And you sure as hell don’t wanna disappoint him.

So you open your mouth wider for him, sticking your tongue out as he continues riding you, your juices starting to soak your panties, creating enough lubrification for you to start getting extremely close to your relief.

“ My good girl” he hums quietly, and seeing him genuinely pleased with you puts your mind at ease. You don’t know exactly when it started, but you’d comply with anything he asks of you just so that he’ll utter those quiet little praises to you.

He spits in your mouth, and you’re honestly taken aback for a split second. You wouldn’t expect someone as composed as him to do something so raw just like that. But as soon as you feel the warm liquid on your tongue you’re quick to swallow what you manage, driven by your desire to make him proud. Some of it is still drooling down your bottom lip tho, and his eyes shimmer down on it, relishing in the sight of you, broken by the growing pleasure, completely at his mercy.

“ Fuck- You’re too hot like that” he breaths down upon you as he reaches between you two, looking for the spot where your panties are becoming so damn wet that you should probably feel embarrassed, but you’re way past that. Especially when you feel his erratic movements finally setting your pussy free, moving the fabric that was still covering it to the side just enough that you can feel the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, hot and covered in pre-cum.

“ Ah-” you cry as you feel him finally pushing against your hole, every nerve ending of yours waiting for him to pierce through you and finally take you.

He slides inside of you with a gentleness that almost kills you, and you can quite literally feel every inch of his length fill your soaked pussy up like you’ve been dreaming about for days. You wanna feel him pick up the pace and quite simply ruin your cunt for good, but all it takes is one thrust of his inside of you, a simple gentle rub of his pelvis against your clit to bring you over the edge.

You start shuddering frantically against him, gripping at his shirt and crying his name so loud that you’re sure the walls could be shaking from it. You kiss his neck through your high, needing to feel him hiss against your ear in response, to bask in his scent, and to feel the flex of his muscles against your hot lips.

“ What's th- fucking 'cumming already?” he lets out, his voice broken by the shock of your pre-empted release “ my God, you're pathetic"

You nod dully, rolling your eyes as little jolts of pleasure unleash throughout your whole body, having you spasming silently against his torso as he picks up the pace, driven mad by the unexpected hunger that your orgasm has unleashed within him.

He’s thrusting so deep inside of you that you feel like he could break you in half, and yet you can’t stop moaning, can’t stop telling him how damn good he’s making you feel.

“ You’re so good at taking it-fuck” he resumes kissing your neck and biting you hard, leaving you sore and aching for more “ you’re made for this, made for me”

The idea has you rejoice, a proud kind of sentiment starting to engulf you as he smacks harder against your cervix, hitting that spot that has you babbling incoherently underneath his weight.

All that you’re feeling is thanks to your patience, you’ve been good and waited for him, and you’d do it for years if it meant being fucked like this was the prize.

You can’t help but nod, your head bobbing up and down under the heel of the merciless pace he’s been keeping up so steadily. You can practically feel every ounce of the frustration he’s held within him in the past few days being reversed in each thrust of his, in every grunt and spasm of his muscles as he pounds into you, and you’re so glad to be the one he vents upon.

You can feel him getting closer. He’s frantic, panting down on you, shoving inside of you with such force that you can’t even think straight anymore, the feeling of your aching pussy squeezing his cock inside of you the only thing you can focus on.

He rises above you to be able to get a hold of your neck, tightening his hand around your throat to make you look at him. You can’t think about what you may look like right now as you stare back into those dark grey irises you love so much. It’s too fucking embarrassing what this man is capable of reducing you to.

“ I’m gonna ‘cum inside of you”

It’s not a warning, it’s a statement.

You shift your weight back slightly to be able to open your legs wider as a reflex, eager to feel him finally releasing into you, but he grips your hips and dips his fingers harder into you, almost bruising your skin in the act.

“ Don’t- fuck, don’t move” he demands.

You don’t need to be told twice, so you stay put, looking up at him and contemplating the sight.

You love seeing him like this, sweaty and broken by pleasure, strands of soft raven hair cascading down his forehead, his shirt revealing just the faintest little hint of his muscles flexing underneath its clean fabric.

But his eyes are what you love the most, the kind of glare that can go from pure sweetness to downright threatening in a matter of seconds. Dark and dangerous.

You see them faltering before you hear his groans swamp the room and his warm seed spring into you, filling you up like you’ve longed so bad for these past few weeks, finally getting the love you were so badly burning for.

He crushes down upon you, a sudden need to feel you as close as possible, to have you press your usual gentle kisses across his face, on his lips, all while he holds you close and slowly regains his breath and usual composure.

When he slips out of you you feel your legs shake a little and you know you’ll need a full night of rest to recover from what he’s done to you, but it doesn’t really matter, ‘cause it was worth it.

He collapses aside from you, taking hold of your wrist and tugging you along to rest on top of him without saying a word. You chuckle faintly against his neck, not able to resist relishing this intimate feeling. You’ve finally got him all for yourself.

Until you hear the oven alarm go off.

[xximperioxx]

Blushin’

Dewdrop/Sodo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW (18+ ONLY), blood (only a little), vaginal fingering, handjob, Sodo being a whore on stage

Notes: this took so long and I’m so sorry. Work has been crazy and it’s currently midterm week for me at school. Also I wasn’t sure what to call him (Sodo or Dewdrop) bc obviously the fandom has different views on it. So I just called him Dewdrop but if it really bugs people I can change it. Also this is my first time writing something spicy/smutty so pls be gentle on me I beg. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were standing on the sideline of the stage, watching Papa and the ghouls put on the ritual for the fans. You were a sister of sin and somehow found yourself helping with production on tour. You were a bit surprised when Sister Imperator had asked you to join Papa and the ghouls on tour since you had often helped with events around the abbey, nonetheless you immediately accepted. The chance to get to know the ghouls excited you. You had only seen them during mass or when Papa played rituals at the abbey.

You had liked the fire ghoul since you had met him after quite physically bumping into him and you falling on your ass. He was angry. Stomping and mumbling something about Aether when you happened to have been too busy walking with your nose stuck in notes for the ritual of the night. You had suddenly felt a force and before you could let out a squeak, you had found yourself on the floor. You looked up with a glare before you got on your knees and grabbed the papers that had fallen out of your hands, “Watch it, Stompy.”

Your eyes had widened, almost not believing the words that had left your mouth. The ghoul had scoffed as he looked down at you, “Maybe you should watch it,” A smirk quickly appeared on his face, “You look good on your knees, Sister.” his smirk only grew when he saw you turn red.

~~~~~

That turned into the ghoul making you blush by teasing you at every moment he could and he loved it. He loved how flustered you got. You wouldn’t dare tell anyone but you enjoyed the moments between the two of you. Unfortunately for you, the ghoulettes figured it out within the first week of the tour while Swiss was upset because they knew something he didn’t and bugged them until the secret was told. The girls tried to get you to talk to him and have an actual conversation but you claimed to be too busy. Swiss makes it blatantly obvious by just staring back and forth at you and Dew or forcing conversation between the two of you.

~~~~~

Then before the show today, you had been been stressing to the technicians about the lighting and timing before the group was to go on stage. Papa spoke up, “Sister Y/N, please understand I mean with the utmost respect,” you had turned to him confused and slightly concerned, “but, you need to get laid.”

The ghouls snickered as you stood there shocked, “Copia!”

He put his hands up in defense and mumbled something about it showing. Swiss went to open his mouth and he swears it’s like you have a sixth sense of when he’s going to say something stupid. You had pointed your finger at him without looking, “Now isn’t the time, Swiss.”

That caught the ears of the fire ghoul. As he stood there stoically, his eyes behind the mask glaring at the tall ghoul and you. His mind runs through thoughts of you and Swiss, involuntary letting out a low growl.

Dew tried to hide the small jolt he made when Papa put his hand on his shoulder, almost sensing something was going to happen.

Checking the time, you shoo the group out on stage wishing them luck. Before leaving, Dew’s hand brushes against yours causing you to look down at them. You look back up to see him staring at you already, silence engulfing the two of you for a few moments. “No good luck kiss?”

You let out a small laugh, your cheeks turning pink yet again. Suddenly, you feel his warm hand against your cheek as he tilts your head up. You feel your face get hotter, not just from the fire ghoul but embarrassment. It had been some time since someone was this close and intimate with you.

Dew held back a groan as he felt his pants tighten at the sight of you staring up at him with your doe eyes.

You swallow your nerves before speaking up quietly, “You should really join the others out there.”

Swiss rounds the corner, “hey (Y/N), have you seen my-..” his eyes widened at the sight, “oh satan, I’m sorry.”

Dewdrop immediately dropped his hand when he heard the multi ghoul’s voice. He lets out another low growl, annoyed about the interruption. You pointed at the tambourine on the couch and watched as Swiss ran and grabbed before he squeaked out a ‘thanks’ as he rushed out of the room. Before you had a chance to say something or even look at Dew, you saw him following Swiss out onto the stage.

~~~~~

They were playing Year Zero and you couldn’t help but stare at Dew. Hell, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You watched him saunter over to Rain but not before stealing a glance at you. Knowing he had your attention, he places his hand on Rain’s chest before sliding his hand up to the water ghoul’s throat. Maintaining eye contact with you, Sodo grips the ghoul's throat. Without realizing, you suddenly feel yourself clench your thighs together. You begin to feel breathless like you had just run a marathon but instead you had just watched possibly the hottest thing you’ve seen.

Throughout the rest of the song, Dew continues to make eye contact with you while making innuendos with his guitar. The ghoul was extremely thankful for his guitar hiding the bulge in his pants because he would never hear the end of it from Aether. He could smell your arousal. This was dangerous. The ghoul decided to stay away from your side of the stage before he got too carried away. When it was time to play Mummy Dust, Dewdrop was preparing for when the confetti shot out. He can’t help but glance your way again before he runs his hand against his mouth and slowly drags it down his chest to the best of the song before he begins the motion of jerking off in front of the crowd.

With a racing heart, you didn't notice you were biting your lip so hard until you tasted the metallic. Bringing a finger to your lip, you touch it gently and wince at the pain. You pull back to see blood on your finger.

The smell of metallic reaches the nose of the fire ghoul and he stops for a second. He physically moans at the sight of you with a bloody lip. You could feel his eyes on you again but decide not to look up before you turn around to go clean up your lip. Also to get a hold of yourself but you didn’t want to admit it. The ghoul begs Satan that these last two songs would go by quickly as his cock was beginning to ache in his pants.

When you had reached the bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror and groaned. You looked like a horny virgin. Rosy cheeks and a glow, pupils dilated, and now a bloody lip. Your skin felt so hot. Ignoring the ache in your core, you bend down to the sink and splash water onto your face to calm and cool you down.

Suddenly you feel a hand cover your mouth, your eyes widen as a muffled scream attempts to leave your mouth. The person pushes themselves into you causing you to squirm. Your eyes move up and you see the mask of the fire ghoul staring back at you. What you expected to be a sigh of relief came out as a moan. It slipped from your mouth as you felt his bulge against you. You hear the ghoul let out a chuckle and you turn even more red from embarrassment.

You rip his hand off your mouth and turn around to face him. You immediately slap his chest, “you scared the shit out of me,” You began to whisper yell, “wait-how did you even get in here I locked the door-…”

He pulls you in by your waist and kisses you hungrily. You wince at the pressure on your lip but ignore it and kiss him back harder. After a few seconds, you both slightly pull away breathless. “I picked the lock, duh,” Dew mumbles against your lips. You can’t help but let out a small laugh.

Smiling, you look up at him and notice his lips, “You got a little blood…” you trail off before you wipe it away with your thumb. He hasn’t stopped staring at your lips and quite frankly, you found it a bit concerning, “Dew?”

In a spur, he pulls your bottom lip with his teeth and begins to suck the blood out of your lip bite. He groans at the metallic taste and can’t help but begin to rut against you. You hear the sound of his zipper and it snaps you out of your euphoric daze.

You pull away, whining against his lips, “please touch me. Please.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He hurriedly unzips your pants and brushes his fingers past your panties and against your core. You let out a gasp and the ghoul immediately puts his mouth back on yours. Inserting a finger in you, you grab his hand that was leaving against the sink. You guide it to your throat. He gives you an unsure look before you nod.

“Aren’t you naughty, Sister.” You attempt to nod again but Dew squeezes your throat. You whimper. “Did you like that? That little show I did with Rain? It was just for you.”

You slide your hand down to his trousers and pull his leaking cock out. He grits teeth at you causing his fangs to show. “Of course you liked it, I smelt your arousal the whole time.” He adds another finger in you and removes his hand from your throat and replaces it with his mouth. “It was so hard not to bring you out onto that stage and fuck you in front of everyone. To mark, to have you scream my name.”

You feel yourself tighten at the words that leave his mouth which causes him to groan against your neck. You feel his thumb brush against your clit and you begin to feel your orgasm approaching. You beg him for more.

Pleas and the ghoul’s name were the only thing leaving your mouth like it was a prayer before your death. Dew bites down onto your neck. “Come on, pretty girl,” you grip his biceps as ecstasy fades over you, a drawn out moan leaving your mouth.

You lean into him, exhaustion hitting you. After a minute you catch your breath, you catch sight of his aching member. It was begging to be touched. You look up at him with doe eyes.

Slowly you run your hand down his chest just as he did on stage. You run your thumb over his tip, “Oh, Satan,” he groans into your neck. With his hands on either side of you, you lean up and kiss the exposed skin of his neck. He watches you lick your hand as he did as you wrap you hand around his cock. You slowly begin to pump and the ghoul becomes a moaning mess. Feeling him rut into your hand causes you to speed up. “I’m close-“ he tries to warn but you abruptly stop and fall to your knees. Not even trying to conceal it at this point, he lets out a loud, breathy moan at the sight of you on your knees. This was something he has been dreaming about for weeks. You stare up at him as you place gentle kisses on his cock before you take him into your mouth. You try not to gag as you can’t fit him entirely. The feeling of your warm mouth was too much for him. You barely get the chance to suck him off before he releases into your mouth as swears and grunts leave his mouth. You moan just at the sight of him and you swear you could cum again.

Sunshine’s gentle voice comes through the door, “I’m really sorry to interrupt but I really need to use the bathroom.”

“Fuck off!”

“Dew! Don’t talk to Sunshine like that.” He looks down at you and mumbles a ‘sorry’ to you before yelling an apology to the ghoulette.

Still enjoying your embrace, he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. The action brings a smile to your face and again a light blush brightens your face. The ghoul pulls away slowly as a smirk forms on his face, “I knew you’d look good on your knees.”

[zootopiathingz]

Genuine question: Why do you ship Radiobelle? I've seen a lot of people doing it, and I'm curious as to what the appeal is!

The real question is, why do people ship anything? Why do we all see two or sometimes more characters interact with each other and imagine how cool it would be if they both had deep-seated romantic feelings for the other?

Answer: cuz we can!😌

Idk about the rest of you, but I don’t exactly have much control over what I ship and don’t ship😅 I just see the characters together and my brain randomly decides either “yes I want them to make out” or “nooo I don’t really see it”. (I am in no way a pro shipper though cuz no)

But as for Radiobelle specifically, there’s just something about them that my silly fangirl heart can’t resist. While I am fairly new to the HH fandom, I did watch the pilot around the time it came out and a small part of me did ship them back then. But I never really allowed myself to indulge in it and I just wasn’t that into the show anyway so I didn’t bother. Now, after actually watching the episodes and engaging in fandom content, I finally embraced the cringe to the full extent and let myself be consumed by the radio demon and his charming demon belle! :P

Now I’m aware that the majority of people don’t like Radiobelle, or even full-on hate it for multiple reasons. Sure, whatever. You don’t have to like every ship, nor does anyone expect you to! I can understand it’s not for everybody. The main thing that bugs me, though, is when people try to start arguments about why it’ll never be canon and why you shouldn’t ship it. “Charlie is with Vaggie and Alastor is aro/ace!” People ship Alastor with a multitude of other characters and nobody bats an eye,, why is it only when you see him being drawn with Charlie that you lose your shit and get offended about his sexuality being ‘erased’? (That’s a topic for a whole other post tbh). And people can ship Charlie with other people. Hell, they DO! I’ve seen numerous art of her and other characters.

Then there’s also the “Alastor thinks of her as his daughter!” See, I want everybody to actually watch episode 5 again and come back to me on this. No, he fucking does not. The only reason he was saying any of that was to get under Lucifer’s skin. That’s it. That was his whole intention. He doesn’t like Lucifer and wanted to rub it in his face that he has been a lousy father to his daughter, in comparison to all the ways he has helped her, with the hotel and whatever else.

Phew, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way! Onto why Radiobelle has stolen my heart!

I just love their dynamic and it all really started with the pilot. Alastor—this mysterious force of nature who can kill anyone and anything, is capable of unimaginable power and torture—randomly showing up on the doorstep of a hotel to help out. And literally no one else trusts him (reasonably so) but Charlie, the good-hearted soul she is, lets him in. She’s cautious, of course, but she’s giving him the chance to do some good because that’s what her dream is all about!

Now while I do wish they had some more interactions in the actual show, what we have so far is scrumptious✨ Alastor may have been giving an abundance of praise to Charlie to piss off her dad, but I don’t think he was lying. Deep down I’m sure he is enjoying the time they’ve spent together—even if he doesn’t fully realize it. Charlie defends Al’s sadistic behavior to her dad because he was doing it to defend the hotel (and bc he’s a cocky mf lol but it’s endearing to her in a way).

Oh and don’t even get me STARTED on episode 7 bro,, omfg the content!! The way he’s extra touchy with her even after they’ve made their deal. Her being nervous and stressed out but he encourages her anyway and verbally admits that he had faith in her the whole time. Him giving her his microphone—which is likely the main source of his power as shown in episode 8 (where he let her use his mic AGAIN!!!) which just shows how much he actually trusts her,, UGH it’s just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻 give me more!!

Now, do I expect Radiobelle to become canon? No. Would it be fucking awesome if it did? Oh absolutely. But I know it won’t, and I don’t care! I’m having the time of my life shipping these two hell-dwelling idiots and I don’t care what anyone says about it!😋

[hellishlibrary]

Twst with Yuu who awkward and stares at them

Warnings; can be seen as either platonic or romantic?

Requests are open!! Don’t worry about much, I do nsfw and sfw content and will have no problem as long as you check my pinned post about fandoms I will do!

Authors note; just needed some non-romantic fics about Twst for once, Duece has more writing bc my brain love this cutie patootie and he is my son

Dorms; HEARTSLABYUL, SAVANACLAW, OCTAVINELLE, SCARABIA, POMEFIORE, IGNIHYDE

HEARTSLABYUL

• The first time you ever stare at Riddle he looks back at you a few seconds later with a confused expression as you keep staring at him. He would then get slightly more confused and then annoyed and asks you what you are doing, to which you just wander off without saying a word.

• This will confuse Riddle even more as he touches his face to see if anything was on him or in his teeth, he realizes an hour later that you were just staring at him for no reason, this makes him feel.. Happy? Or maybe.. prideful that the chance that you might look up to him..? Yes. This must be the answer! Riddle will ask you tomorrow :D

***

• Trey has noticed that you stare at him from both afar and when you both walk with each other. Of course he doesn’t mind it, in fact, you remind him when Riddle was younger and shy when they first met! What an adorable person you are!

• One time Trey asked you a question and you were so zoned out on him that he waved his hand in-front of you face and you looked super embarrassed and answered his question with a crooked smile as he chuckled at your reaction. Maybe he should call you out on it more often?

***

• Cater Takes pictures with you all of the time! You and him are basically best friends, at least he think so. But he notices that you are always looking at him in the pictures as he reviews the pictures before posting them. What a cutie you are! Looking so cute and squishy in the picture! (Platonic love)

• He would send you a picture that he likes of the two of you and leave a smart as comment saying ‘You look like you looove cay-cay’ and giggle at your response and tease you the next day you see each other!

***

• Ace definitely makes fun of you as he notices it almost immediately when you guys are officially friends. You stare at Ace as if you had a problem with him, so he jokingly asks you if you want to fight him and you just fumble with your words as he has a shit eating grin.

• But one time when you were caught staring at him he teased you a lot until you were almost crying, he had a heart attack as you are one of his best friends! (Mostly because he accidentally almost made you cry infront of RIDDLE), so he never teased you too much after that. (Key word; TOO MUCH)

***

• Deuce didn’t really notice (because he’s a little dumb <33) but when he did it was when he first played with Leona in a practice game for the spell drive after Leona’s overblot. He only notices afterwards because Jack pointed it out to him, and now he can’t help but get confused and nervous when you do it. It’s not your fault! Well, maybe it is..? But he enjoys spending time with you, it’s just it creeps him out a bit, sometimes he can’t help but call you out on it.

• Like one time he was walking with you back to ramshackle dorm and he couldn’t help but notice the way you glanced at him and stared every time, Deuce then gives up and asks you about it. Deuce then apologizes as he sees you try to find your words and you kinda look like a kicked puppy and he starts to panic and say it’s alright and he’ll never bring it up again..! (Spoiler alert; he does it on accident all the time)

Hello! Thank you for reading, love you guys and good morning/afternoon/night

[idkiwasntsupposedtobebackhere]

ok so since people didn’t cut my head off for my unpopular opinions i’m gonna expand on the second one. so for people in the gilmore girls fandom it’s pretty much the general opinion that luke is a saint for taking jess in and that jess screwed things up and that it’s his fault luke kicked him out. ”he got himself kicked out”. even people who like jess seem to think this is fair. so as someone who watches gilmore girls mostly for jess i have a different perspective that i’ve never actually vocalized but i figured maybe this little corner of the internet wouldn’t hate me for this, as long as it doesn’t make it out of here.

so i also first of all think that the fact that jess has to work at luke’s and graduate in order to stay there is a bit sad. like everyone around him his age has somewhere they can stay without conditions, and people wonder why he’s the only one worried about making money. and yes, it’s a fine idea in theory, he has to change his ways if he wants to stay with luke bc that’s the point of him being there, sure, but luke could stand to NOT always bring it up to jess during fights that can’t stay with him if he violates the conditions.

bc the thing is that luke very clearly makes it known that he doesn’t want jess there and that the whole situation is kind of a pain in his ass that he’s doing out of obligation. a minor is entitled to a place to stay where they can be an asshole unconditionally, actually, and they shouldn’t have to be constantly grateful to have that. and if luke didn’t want to fully commit and be that place, he should have said no to taking jess in. you don’t get to get all the praise for doing a good deed and then get all pissy about actually following through with it.

like i know luke and jess aren’t the main characters and that their scenes and dynamic are for comedy. but then they play off jess leaving as serious so i should be allowed to analyze their scenes seriously. and my conclusion is… luke is not that nice to jess LOL. like i can’t think of a single scene where he responds to him in any other manner than pissed off or annoyed. he never stops treating him like a bad kid. we know luke cares about jess but does jess have any reason to believe that? or does he think this is all for liz? like i know their scenes are jokes but for someone who complains so much about what a difficult person jess is to connect with, i think luke missed a lot of moments to do it.

luke taking jess in in general is nice, YES, but i’m not talking about just good intentions here. and i know that it was a very good intention but i, again, just super dislike the whole ”you wouldn’t have anywhere to stay if it wasn’t for me, so watch it”-attitude. even in season 4 luke basically said that jess had to come to liz’ wedding because he was there for him when no one else was. and i think that’s a shitty thing to say to someone who deserved more. i know luke didn’t have to do it bc he’s not his parent and that’s why people forgive him and not liz, who is his parent and did have to do it. but i think luke agreed to be jess’ parent and if he didn’t want to, he could have said no to his sister for once in his life. anyways, i think i’ve made my point.

also, i love you luke, my world just revolves around your nephew. i know i’m putting a lot of unrealistic expectations on a guy who’s pretty emotionally constipated. and he did come through with the big things, like giving jess money in sesson 4. but i’m talking about the little things that could have made even more of a difference. just don’t get it twisted ok, luke and jess’ relationship is my fave on the show, i may like it even more than rory and jess’, but when i enjoy something i analyze it. so don’t think i don’t love them, because i do! i just want to squash the idea that luke did everything he could but that jess ultimately was too difficult, because i disagree with that.