#honestly this can apply to like. any fandom ever

[illustoryart]

I have very bad not at all good news considering my Good Omens stuff. This morning, I got a email that every fan artist dreads.

This letter includes 80+ pages of screenshots from my Ko-fi, printshops, and socials, even my Twitter header, where I simply listed my main fandoms.

They’ve also demanded to delete all the freebies: PDF version of Ineffable Affirmations and wallpaper packs (not sure how free/donate stuff violates IP, but that's what they say).

I will have to comply with these demands — if they start any legal process, it would be absolutely catastrophic. 

They also have the right to block or deactivate my social media for IP infringement, which would be basically a starvation sentence for me and my family, so I don't have any other options.

Yes, I should have seen it coming — it was always a grim possibility. But right now is quite literally the worst time to get a letter like this. I had planned to gradually shift toward creating more original content, but the war and forced emigration disrupted everything. 

When we suddenly lost all our sources of income, I had to stick back to drawing mostly fanart. Basically the tiny amount of money I got from Ko‑fi and occasional commissions, was all our means for survival these years. 

All this time, we’ve been trying to find a safer place to live — an incredibly difficult process with Russian passports. And just yesterday, we got an invitation to apply for a long stay French visa.

The cruel irony of it all...

Honestly, I am shaken and trying not to fall into despair. 

If we get these visas, we will have to move in April, which means we’ll need A LOT of money for tickets, rent, transporting our stuff, and who knows what else. If you ever moved between countries, you can imagine that.

I was hoping our Ko‑fi and the new projects we planned for this year would make it possible. But now, we have to delete most of the shop and cancel half of the projects we were working on. 

I’m very scared, and have no idea what to do now.

I have to remove everything before March 9th. 

Tomorrow, I’ll set the lowest possible prices on all our GO items. If you wanted something from these collections, this will be literally the last chance.

Please, please tell me everything is going to be okay 😰

[music-orthemisery]

Hi! First of all I wanted to say how much I love reading your posts on p2 and fob in general, blogs like yours are MY happy place 😊

Second of all, I’m genuinely surprised, that nowadays with Pete being a family guy, for the lack of better term, is focused on his projects and his band, and his children, doing pretty tame things, like playing golf with his dad, for love’s sake! And some people still find some things to shitpost about??? In that case, I hope he’s not so much of an online presence anymore and things like this don’t get to him.

Aw, thank you so much! Like I said, I come here for fun. If my silly yappings make it fun for someone else too, then yay!

I’ll be honest when I say the stuff re: Pete doesn’t surprise me. I think Patrick said it best in the Zane Lowe interview - Pete is an interesting dude, and how people react to that will vary.

Obviously Pete has faults, and pre-h Pete…kinda sucked sometimes. PETE even recognizes this. He has said multiple times that he did not like who he had become and had to do a lot of work on himself during the hiatus.

However, Pete is also a human being, so OF COURSE he is going to have faults. Everyone has regrets for things they did/thought/believed. It’s a universal human experience. People don’t just…magically lose their humanity when they become famous.

I was a counselor for many years, and I wonder how my client’s would’ve progressed if I told them, “Well, you sure have fucked up. And it doesn’t matter what you do now because all that matters is what you’ve done in the past.” Like, who deserves that?

Obviously nuance is important here because, sure, there are some actions that are worth continuing to acknowledge. But Pete has not done anything that warrants that, and anyone who claims he has is basing that off of highly unreliable narrators, and/or cherry-picked sensationalist “reporting,” and/or applying current social norms onto the past, and/or slapping labels on things that do NOT apply, and/or racism, and/or lack of understanding/empathy toward mental illness.

Again, who deserves that?

Also worth mentioning - what a huge insult to Patrick to say that all of his success and art he has created was because Pete manipulated him. What an insult to Joe and Andy to reduce them to just tagging along for the paycheck despite secretly hating Pete.

What a miserable experience to be a “fan” of a band you actively despise.

I don’t get any sense that Pete allows internet shit to get to him these days. I think it’s safe to say that we are seeing him genuinely happy and content, and that came with years of learning who to actually listen to. <3

[artytaeh]

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

can i disagree with some of this fandom's perception of tom riddle? surely he won't be a sweetheart like lorenzo, but...

┊ i also don't think that he'd be so intentionally rude, so cold towards his significant other. i honestly think that if tom ever becomes infatuated with someone, he would take pride into getting this someone to belong to him. willingly! 🌷

౨ৎ i guess i'll never know the reason why you ♡ ͡

love me like you do; that's the wonder of you . . .

... tom riddle is a smart man, you see. love, romantic feelings, to act like a couple and all of those things— these might be the most confused that tom riddle will ever be, because otherwise, he's an extremely competent, capable young man.

tom riddle does get confused, a little lost on what to do; he'd torture himself by discreetly watching couples at hogwarts interacting, maybe make some research (= read novels. romantic novels. it was a discovery of a new medieval torture for tom, seriously, to waste his precious time reading some sappy crap like that.) to better understand how to handle you.

how to deal with you.

how to cherish you, so that you don't ever entertain the idea of leaving him. you see, tom is a practical man— he'd rather not commit mistakes, because to fail, means to spend extra time fixing his error and doing the same thing twice, so that this time, it's done correctly.

applying this ideology to you, it means: that 1) tom riddle prefers to always keep your heart happy, so that you don't have doubts about him; so that 2) he won't have to take twice the effort to conquer the city of your heart again.

some think that tom wouldn't like petnames. to be fair, tom would frown at many of those, at first— thinking that they were cringe, disgusting or a psychological way to acquire diabetes. however, when tom gets used to this stir on his heart, those loud heart beatings that cloud his rational thoughts...

... it's excused to say that tom's preferred petname to call you by, is 'my love'.

tom reasons that's because it isn't a lie at all. well, you're certainly his— and because of you, because of your existence, of this enchanting aura of yours; that's how tom riddle discovered love. there are few things that tom is attached to. even fewer that he shows to care about, to have affectionate feelings for; one of them is the basilisk. others are his favorite books, all of them first editions that were troublesome, but endlessly worth it, to get. nevertheless, at the peak of the pyramid, there's you.

you. oh, how your name sounds so angelic, so right, so perfect on his lips. sometimes, tom doesn't call you by any petnames, so that he can mouth each syllable of your name, tasting the acquaintance of the name of his darling on his lips.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

he might call you by other petnames, depending on the occasions:

darling; which, in his opinion, is fairly one of the best petnames to be shared between a couple. because you, reader, are endearing to his eyes— a darling, really, whose presence immediately softens (ever so slightly, because tom riddle still is tom riddle himself, and that mask of stoicism of his won't be broken without putting up a fight.) those previously icy, cold eyes of his.

dearest; if tom is trying to reason with you. unlike what many think, tom would take a deep breath, put on that handsome smile of his, and use a gentle tone to convince some words inside that pretty little head of yours. 'dearest', he calls for you— so gentle, so full of affection; as if reminding you that you are the object of all of his affections and desires. you, his dearest, the one he adores the most. the reminder of such a fact easily melts you in less than a few seconds, which tom sees as too perfect of an opportunity to lose to convince you much faster.

doll; if you look rather ravishing to his eyes, whenever you dress up even prettier than other school days, and wear such pretty clothes and many accessories to further optimize your beauty. beautiful, perfect, flawless; like a doll. a carefully made doll. a doll, that sits there quiet and all pretty, obedient, doing as she's told.

( i must warn you, though, that tom won't entertain silly nicknames from you. tom riddle will ignore you, march forward without sparing a glance at you, not even acknowledging your presence should you insist on the matter. tom won't answer you, should you refer to him by such hideous petnames. you could be about to fall from a mountain, and yet tom won't help you until you address him properly. baby? he's not a child, for salazar's sake! pookie bear? now that might make tom riddle himself throw you off from the mountain's edge— call him such a monstrosity like that, and tom will lose every drop of faith on you. you're a lost cause. )

if he had to choose; yes, tom would prefer if you were obedient. contrary to popular belief, tom riddle is quite fascinated with sweet personas. to have a sweet significant other, who's all smiles and considerate words— it's so, so much easier for tom.

between a brat that trashes around for his attention, and a sweet girl who gently tries to indulge (purely out of concern, wanting him to share his problems with her!)— tom would rather choose the latter.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

quite the darling you are. to boldly take tom's hands between your own, with that frown of yours. no, you're not being whiny; yet tom can see that there's consideration, there's time spent on that little brain of yours, that tries to find the right words to speak with him.

then, when you voice your concerns— that tom spends some time alone from time to time, seemingly hiding something from you, as if to shoulder all of those burdens all by himself...

tom takes a deep breath, swallowing his temper. trying to keep his composure, because tom hates having to justify his actions. with a smile, tom puts on a facade, with a too much convincing tone: "oh, dearest, no. i'm flattered that you noticed that i haven't been having the best days; however, your presence makes everything better. in fact, being with you now, makes all of my problems seem insignificant in comparison."

should his sweet words not be enough to keep your nose out of his business, then tom takes a step further. holding your hands, tom squeezes them between his fingers, gently at first, tightly when you're too stubborn: "my problems are mine to solve, my love. i would never put such a heavy burden on you; your smile is too precious for me to ruin."

sweet, sweet words; some that tom mentally grimaces at, but knows that are necessary and effective with you. talking as if he's doing you a favor on keeping you away from his PERSONAL thoughts and goals.

and that's how tom pushes you way. gently, smoothly— so that you'd have to rethink this moment over and over, for you to understand that once again, tom riddle has tricked you; tricked you into doing what he wants. because without a fight, without you daring to bother him further... tom riddle made you go back to your own business, and leave his alone.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

however, when tom is in a better mood and less stressed with his own goals, he'd find it funny, entertaining even, if his darling tried to be bossy. to pout, to want some sort of control. it's hilarious for him.

so, he indulges you. well, sort of— tom tricks you into thinking that he gave in to your commands. to your whims. in a sneaky way, tom makes you think that you're in control!

the one who's in charge is you. yes, darling, of course. he pats your head, gives you that charming smile of his. with such a serene expression, tom briefly raises his eyebrows, mocking you inside that devious mind of his, as he says: you are absolutely right, dearest.

tom riddle doesn't really mind that you aren't consciously aware that the one in charge is him. that's fine; no, seriously, go and brag about it!

because ultimately, tom knows that what he says, goes. that with some sweet words of his, a little touch here and there, that you'll soon see the reason and comply to whatever tom wishes you to say, to do, to behave.

he does is so smoothly, that even for the outsiders, well... it'd be hard to realize that all that tom riddle is doing to you, is nothing but manipulation. and you're oh so easy to manipulate— it was a challenge at first. now, it's more of a chore; tom barely blinks through it. he knows you so well.

however, so that you whining and getting used to think that you're having things done your way, tom throws some praises and compliments here and there.

touching you chin, gently brushing his thumb on your lower lip; tom's gaze intentionally softens, as he praises: 'you're just too good to be true, my love.', whenever you act accordingly. when you do as he says.

brushing a strand of yours away from your face, so that he can further admire the physical features of his beloved: 'i sincerely can't take my eyes of you, darling, when you are so good for me like this. pardon the way that i stare— you're too beautiful.'

and with even more sincerity, tom riddle isn't sure where his manipulation ends and his genuine care for you starts; tom isn't sure, whether his words are now a muscle memory of his, or if he truly means them.

but he never allows himself to discover the roots of this thought. to actually find out if he truly is such an emotionally shallow person, or if his weakness for his darling is deeper than he realizes. no— this is one of the few matters, in which tom would rather remain ignorant about.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

because tom is such a gentleman with you...

opening doors for you. walking two, three steps ahead of you as soon as the entrance is upon sight, tom will open the door for you; his arm keeps it open for you to enter or leave the room first, and so those grayish-green eyes of his watch you, as you pass by. then, tom will enter just behind you, following your lead, quickening his steps to go back to his rightful place by your side. he lies to himself, saying that he only does such a small gesture to effortlessly keep you by his side. tom would be telling the truth, if he doesn't interrupt the thought that he enjoys to escort you— because, deep down, tom genuinely appreciates your company. every step, every minute you spend together. 'here, love. please, continue; what did you tell your housemate, then?'

tom riddle refuses to let you carry heavy books. so, as if it was muscle memory and so smoothly that you can't do anything about it, tom will carry your books along with his, as soon as you leave the classroom. it's not that he finds you useless, incapable; rather, tom riddle perceives you as a... preciously delicate, fragile little thing. most of the times, tom does it so nonchalantly that you don't even notice; you're too distracted by your conversation, to notice how tom carries your stuff, busying his arms. however, should you notice or worry that you're being a burden to tom in any way; tom shakes his head at you, waving off this silly insecurity of yours: 'i know you can carry them, beloved. however, allow me to do it for you. i am your boyfriend, am i not?'

offering his hand for you to take, whenever there's a higher step to be climbed up, or tricky stairs on your way. tom will do it too, to give you some kind of support, should you jump off of a particular high edge. whenever you wear high heels, tom would be specially careful with you— he offers his arm or hand for you to take, walking in a much slower pace than usual, so that you won't overexert your feet. we can't have his darling getting hurt, now can we? no bruises, no pain, no redness on your skin undesired by him, nothing to interrupt the lovely time you're spending together. 'take my hand, my love; it's quite high for you. that's it, darling, good girl.'

whenever you're about to sit, tom grabs the back of your chair, pushing the seat backwards for you to take, then helps you settle closer to the table. only then, will tom take his own seat in front of you. it's something that becomes so, so common between both of you, that sometimes you find yourself taking a few more seconds to sit down, whenever you hang out with your friends; unconsciously, you'd wait for tom to gently guide you to your seat. oh, you're spoiled.

leaning down to get the material you accidentally knocked out; if he's not quick enough to notice, then tom will keep his hand on the edge of the table, so that there's no chance for you to hit your head. 'quite the klutz, aren't you, darling?' — with a lighthearted tone, so that he doesn't come by as mean, tom couldn't help but to tease you just this time, — 'next time, let me get it for you, dearest. now, careful with your head.'

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

... and because he's always so soft-spoken with you, well, how could you listen to your friends, in case they notice that maybe tom riddle isn't as a good guy as he lets on? that perhaps, he is a little controlling. that maybe, he's too overprotective of you.

→ and of course, being the fool you are, you stroll to the lion's cage (or should we call it snake?) and deliver all of this information on a silver platter for him.

SAT SIDEWAYS ON HIS LAP, tom settles your thighs to rest on top of his, while a hand is respectfully kept there; caressing the smooth skin, rubbing circles on the bare skin of your thigh, just inches underneath the hem of your skirt.

tom riddle keeps up a serene expression, sometimes humming in acknowledgement, to show you that he's listening to this ramble of yours. if it's a topic that seems to have bothered or upsets you, then tom will keep another hand on your lower back; he soothes you with small movements of his fingers.

oh, how funny. so this ravenclaw friend of yours, told you that it isn't normal for tom, your boyfriend, to comment whether you roll up your skirt during summer? that such a thing is being controlling? now that's something tom will have to deal with. perhaps, he'll only have to frame this irritating ravenclaw girl; have you ever thought that maybe, she's interested in tom? that must be why the ravenclaw is filling your pretty little brain with such absurd exaggerations of his doings. how lucky you are, to have an attentive boyfriend that easily notices when a friend of yours has bad intentions.

( for obvious reasons, tom despises amortentia. he finds it disgusting, but more than that, tom riddle perceives amortentia has a rather pathetic tool to get someone's affection. tom will never use it on you— he doesn't need to! however, he will get his hands on one, to use it on that nosy, insufferable ravenclaw friend of yours. only to prove his point. so that this nosy girl acts disgustingly flirty around tom, so that you'll come running back into his arms, crying about such an awful friend and that once again, tom was right. you apologize to him, for doubting his assumptions. you end this friendship and cut ties with the ravenclaw girl. and tom, well, tom riddle has once again rid both of you from troublesome outsiders. )

ah, now this is entertaining! so these friends of yours, housemates, have noticed that tom has been keeping an eye on you. now, dearest, that's rather silly, don't you think? so what if you seem to find the same familiar faces in the same space as you? do you really believe your friends' theories? that he sends his followers ''friends'' to follow you around the school? darling, hogwarts is quite enormous and spacious, yet all of you study together in the same castle. it's inevitable, to see familiar faces, here and there.

( however, tom will blame his followers. how difficult can it be, to follow, to stalk a girl like you? and to go unnoticed as they do that? sincerely, tom stares at them with such disgust, such disappointment, that his followers tremble under his gaze— the future dark lord even mentions the idea of getting rid of them. of throwing them away. after all, why would he need such useless, such incompetent boys like them, if they can't follow simple orders correctly? it's excused to say, that you'd never suspect being stalked again. 1) because tom reassured you that such a thought is rather silly; and 2), because these followers of tom riddle do a much better job. out of fear. )

oh, darling, what silly friends you have! sincerely, it seems like you only attract observant delusional friends, or attentive paranoid companies!

in the end, it doesn't matter if your friends tried to alert you about tom's toxic concerning flaws traits. because in the end, at night, he will have you nuzzling on his lap, holding you so tenderly; all of these warnings disappear into thin air, when tom makes you laugh at such accurate ridiculous accusations.

in conclusion: no, tom riddle would never be rude or snap at you; not if he can help it, not if he can keep his temper in check. he believes that the best way to keep you so effortlessly devoted and infatuated, to keep you willingly by his side, is to treat you with care (even if sometimes he has to manipulate his way into it). how lucky you are, to have such a obsessive caring boyfriend!

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i'm endlessly faithful to theodore nott. however. the first to kick the entrance door to my heart was tom riddle. and what a man (i can't fix him. i would let him ruin my life him tho!), ladies and gentlemen.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[secretmellowblog]

Jean Valjean's Canon Toxic Unhealthiness around Romantic Love

( alternate titles: “Does Jean Valjean is Gay?”, or “Does Jean Valjean is Asexual?” Or: “Why is it so difficult to slap an identity/sexuality label onto Jean Valjean?” Or “LGBTPTSD+”)

I was looking at the responses to this poll about whether people interpret Jean Valjean as gay/asexual/straight or something else….and it got me thinking again about Jean Valjean’s canonical intense, complex, awful, toxic, and overwrought emotions around identity/ romantic love. I want to talk about that for a bit because I think it often gets overlooked in fandom!

I've noticed that Les Mis fandom/analysis often tends to interpret Jean Valjean as being far more content, more "at peace with himself," and more "comfortable in his own skin" than he ever is within the novel. This is also a common change in adaptations. The musical's version of Jean Valjean is great-- but he also seems a lot more self-actualized, more like he's gotten himself completely "figured out" by the end of the story. Other, bad, Les Mis adaptations — the adaptations that generally portray Jean Valjean a worse more violent person — also usually make Jean Valjean more confident in himself, more confident in his own feelings/desires, more certain that he’s entitled to certain things, and more willing to demand or take what he wants.

But one major aspect of book Jean Valjean's personality is that he does not have a healthy relationship with anything about himself. He has a tortured broken relationship with his own identity. He repeatedly thinks about “Jean Valjean” as a person outside of himself, a person who he finds frightening, repulsive, savage, and horrible— like a wild animal he needs to sedate, or beat into submission. He is obsessed with self-denial and self-repression. He is fixated on the idea that he is subhuman, that he is not allowed to want things or to pursue having any kinds of relationships with other people-- and that the most heroic thing he can do is "grab himself by the collar” and violently force himself to stay away from the things he wants. He is desperate to be loved and fixated on being unworthy of love and on denying himself love. He is absolutely not at peace with his identity: to paraphrase Jean Valjean in one of the later chapters, he believes he can only gain inner peace by “eviscerating his own entrails.”

He is never truly content with who he is, what he wants, or what kind of love he wants— and he never learns to be. The novel ends with him cutting himself off from his only family, breaking ties with the only person who loves him, and essentially slowly killing himself out of self-loathing.

There are other characters in Les Mis who seem very content with who they are and what they want. Enjolras is self-assured in his identity, and doesn’t appear to feel like there is any kind of love that is missing from his life. Whether you interpret him as gay or ace or trans or w/e, book!Enjolras is written as someone who is extremely self-assured and has a loving support system that is enough to keep him happy. But I don’t think that’s true for Jean Valjean at all XD.

And that’s why it's hard to apply labels like “aromantic” or “ace” or gay/straight/etc to Jean Valjean, when talking about his canon characterization. Those labels imply the person has a basic level of comfort with acknowledging their own desires/lack of desire/identity. And Jean Valjean never achieves that level of comfort. What “label” do you give to someone whose relationship with their identity is “I do not belong in a family, I have no right to want things, I have no right to be happy, I am outside of life, and I will never be at peace until I eviscerate my own entrails?” Is there a “self-disembowelment" pride flag? XD I've seen a lot of interpretations that go "Jean Valjean never expresses any interest in romance, he's perfectly content just to have his relationship with his daughter" but I honestly don't think that's true. Jean Valjean tries to content himself with having only Cosette. But part of why everything explodes so catastrophically in the end of the novel is because he needs more than just a paternal relationship. He doesn’t try to have a “normal” father-daughter relationship with Cosette, he tries to force his relationship with Cosette to be literally everything and everyone to him, for her to be his entire world: and it doesn’t work.

There’s a passage in the novel that talks about how all the love Valjean is capable of ends up being suppressed/sublimated into his relationship with Cosette. The love of a brother, of a friend, of a father, of a husband, the love of everything he is capable of, gets repressed so that he can throw every part of himself into being a father. There are Bad les mis adaptations that incorrectly misinterpret that passage to mean that Jean Valjean is incestuous/grooming Cosette. But in context, that’s not what the passage means at all.

The passage specifies very explicitly that Jean Valjean “did not love Cosette otherwise than as a father,” that “no marriage was possible between them,” that his feelings for her are absolutely paternal. But the passage does show how Jean Valjean is doing a very different unhealthy thing: he’s relying on Cosette to fill every single emotional void in his life.

He’s relying on parenthood to fill the grief/emptiness left behind by all the other kinds of love that he has wanted, but never been given.

To quote a bit of that passage:

Jean Valjean did not love Cosette otherwise than as a father (…) Let the reader recall the situation of heart which we have already indicated. No marriage was possible between them; not even that of souls; and yet, it is certain that their destinies were wedded. With the exception of Cosette, that is to say, with the exception of a childhood, Jean Valjean had never, in the whole of his long life, known anything of that which may be loved. The passions and loves which succeed each other had not produced in him those successive green growths, tender green or dark green, which can be seen in foliage which passes through the winter and in men who pass fifty. In short, and we have insisted on it more than once, all this interior fusion, all this whole, of which the sum total was a lofty virtue, ended in rendering Jean Valjean a father to Cosette. A strange father, forged from the grandfather, the son, the brother, and the husband, that existed in Jean Valjean; a father in whom there was included even a mother; a father who loved Cosette and adored her, and who held that child as his light, his home, his family, his country, his paradise.

Jean Valjean reminds me of a Failmode I’ve seen in a lot of different real-life parents? There are parents who cope with their own hard lives by telling themselves that parenthood is their sole reason for being alive, and who obsess over their child’s success as their only source of purpose, meaning, love, happiness, community, and validation. But it’s a bad idea to rely on one child to provide the emotional support that should be shared by friends, parents, siblings, every possible loved one, etc etc—- One child can’t actually heal you from your trauma, be a replacement for your broken relationships, pull you out of your grief, save you from your adult loneliness, etc etc etc etc.

When I see the common interpretation that Jean Valjean is perfectly content just to be the father of Cosette, I think of this line:

Thus when he saw that the end had absolutely come, that she was escaping from him, that she was slipping from his hands, that she was gliding from him, like a cloud, like water, when he had before his eyes this crushing proof: “another is the goal of her heart, another is the wish of her life; there is a dearest one, I am no longer anything but her father, I no longer exist”; when he could no longer doubt, when he said to himself: “She is going away from me!” the grief which he felt surpassed the bounds of possibility. To have done all that he had done for the purpose of ending like this! And the very idea of being nothing!

On one hand, the terrible Les mis adaptations that portray Valjean as Incest Creep are incorrect and wrong. On the other hand, though, Jean Valjean IS unhealthy about Cosette— just in a different and actually sympathetic way.

He has made fatherhood his only purpose, to replace every other purpose he could have in life. So he can’t be “just Cosette’s father.” He can’t imagine her becoming an adult and leaving the nest, like children do. What does he have if he’s not taking care of her? What is his purpose in life if she doesn’t need him to be her parent? He's not just being her father, he's relying on her to be his entire reason to exist. He hasn't been allowing himself to have things outside of her.

And speaking of things outside of Cosette: segue time. This post was supposed to be about Jean Valjean and romance, so let's switch gears and talk about his canon 'romantic experiences' more:

We’re told that in his youth he “never had a sweetheart” because he “never had time to be in love.” There is no indication that Jean Valjean never wanted to be in love. The opposite is implied. Hugo frames it as a tragedy that Jean Valjean’s does not experience young love; it’s the horror of poverty taking yet another thing from him.

Within prison, Valjean is “gloomy” and “chaste;” when he traumadumps to Montparnasse about it, he talks about women looking on galley slaves with horror and disgust. Romance, at least “normal” heterosexual romance, is no longer something that is permitted for him. Jean Valjean knows very little about romance/love/sex and it repeatedly messes up his life. He spends 19 years in the all-male environment of prison, then about a decade in the almost-all-female environment of the convent. He has very little experience with how men and women are supposed to interact. The oppression Fantine faces as a sex worker, and Cosette's relationship with Marius, are both two big 'blind spots' that he struggles with.

At one point romantic love is described as “The only misery Jean Valjean had not yet experienced, and the only one that is sweet.”

In his massive confession to Marius, he agonizes over how he is not allowed to be part of a family, and is incapable of being part of a home. He compares himself to someone sick and diseased, that poisons good and normal people with his presence, and cannot be allowed to make himself part of their families.

So Jean Valjean doesn’t frame Romance as “a thing he doesn’t want:” it’s a thing “he is not allowed to want,” it is one of the many things he is banned from wanting. It's impossible to tell what kind of things he would want, if he were allowed to want them.

One of the most interesting things to me, however, is his general attitude towards Marius/Cosette.

Obviously his first reaction to Marius snooping around is fear and resentment— he doesn’t know to interact with romance, having never experienced it, and immediately begins catastrophizing. He views Marius as a privileged booby ruining his life for something as frivolous as a love affair: it reads to me as partially envy, envy of the fact that Marius lives the kind of safe comfortable life that allows him to experience young love.

Jean Valjean added: “What does he want? A love affair! A love affair! And I? What! I have been first, the most wretched of men, and then the most unhappy, and I have traversed sixty years of life on my knees, I have suffered everything that man can suffer, I have grown old without having been young, I have lived without a family, without relatives, without friends, without life, without children, I have left my blood on every stone, on every bramble, on every mile-post, along every wall, I have been gentle, though others have been hard to me, and kind, although others have been malicious, I have become an honest man once more, in spite of everything, I have repented of the evil that I have done and have forgiven the evil that has been done to me, and at the moment when I receive my recompense, at the moment when it is all over, at the moment when I am just touching the goal, at the moment when I have what I desire, it is well, it is good, I have paid, I have earned it, all this is to take flight, all this will vanish, and I shall lose Cosette, and I shall lose my life, my joy, my soul, because it has pleased a great booby to come and lounge at the Luxembourg.”

But, even though Jean Valjean views romance as something he isn’t allowed or have or to want, views it as a threat and catastrophizes over how it will ruin his life……he seems to also put heterosexual romance on a pedestal.

The way Jean Valjean idealizes marriage is one of his weirdest character notes for me.

He views marriage as Cosette’s “happy ending.” It’s her “happily ever after” point where she won’t need him anymore, where she won’t need anyone outside of her husband. A Man And a Woman Are Meant to Get Married, It's Fate, and It Means They Will Live Happily Together Forever. Marius is “the goal of her heart, the wish of her life; her dearest one.” Nothing outside of that matters anymore.

He treats her marriage as if romantic love is inherently always more important than any kind of platonic relationships, and always takes priority over them. He later dismisses the unconventional family structure he has with Cosette, saying that despite his love for her he was only a "passerby" and was not actually her real father, because they were not biologically related.

There's a moment where Jean Valjean is described as someone whose ideal is to be angel on the inside and a bourgeois on the outside. Jean Valjean's worship of bourgeois social norms, norms he can never truly be a part of, is one of his character flaws. He has a similar "guard dog" energy as Eponine does when she defends Rue Plumet from her parents.....Eponine and Jean Valjean both become the guard dogs of a kind of romantic relationship they believe they are banned from having. Jean Valjean believes that getting Happily Straight Married in a Middle-Class Home with a Picket Fence(tm) is the ideal path for life....but believes himself broken/incapable of ever following that path. And so he instead throws his entire life into securing that future for Marius and Cosette.

In what manner was Jean Valjean to behave in relation to the happiness of Cosette and Marius? It was he who had willed that happiness, it was he who had brought it about; he had, himself, buried it in his entrails, and at that moment, when he reflected on it, he was able to enjoy the sort of satisfaction which an armorer would experience on recognizing his factory mark on a knife, on withdrawing it, all smoking, from his own breast. Cosette had Marius, Marius possessed Cosette. They had everything, even riches. And this was his doing.

TL: DR:

Jean Valjean's gender/sexuality label is “idk but he’s super fucked up about it.”

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Ideas to feed the kiddos before I disappear to cry (Yandere NightClub)

I live in a state of depression so deep that a YouTube short is the only reason I've popped back in to bless you with a concept. I hope to finish my Greek mythology oneshot but we'll see.

Also, ya'll loneliness is scary so stay safe and know that cheese cares how you're doing. That's right I'm actively promoting a parasocial relationship between me and my readers (jokes (unless-))

Genders not final okay so don't be shy to ask for another gender than the one I use

Imagine for me (this can apply for any of my fandoms as well):

You my cute little MC are a bartender at one of the sketchiest clubs. Either you are a complete airhead, no one else would hire you (criminal record), or you getting that big bag (your boss spoils you).

Because of this you have seen the poisonous underbelly of the city you live in because this club only seems to attract the worst people (yanderes). Under the influence of alcohol these people tell you all their deepest darkest secrets (you need therapy more than ever). Gods forbid you even think about being nice to them or giving them advice. Kidnapping didn't go well. Maybe you should go on a date (like a normal person). Or you could just drug them (that was sarcasm on your part).

Now you've got repeat yandere clientele asking you to help them with their darlings believing you to be some expert in the field (you'll say anything for the money or you just stupid stupid).

Some of these people might just be looking for a way to kidna-court you. These questions about your exact height and weight are very invasive.

Beware to these clients because your boss and coworkers won't let these "customers" have you that easily (all are trained killers).

Rich flirty childish boss who wants to give you the world just stop calling him "kid" he's/she's/they're five years older than you (bad case of the baby face). Wants to wrap you in his/her/their fluffy pink coat and take you home (to his/her/their cozy luxury condo). Honestly kinda want to either write an absolute boss babe or twink if I'm making an oc of this person.

Fellow bartender who is the most normal of the bunch. Pretty tall and bulky but a total sweetheart who gives you the best advice (keeps people from giving you spiked drinks). Constantly offers you rides home; they can't have you walking by yourself people want to snatch you up (them too). Probably the most normal to get into a relationship with and won't do too much against your will (unless you get hurt). Himbo vibes (genderless)

Bouncer of the club is intimidating and bulky and also very shy. Wants desperately to talk to you and tell you how he/she/ they feel but oops they just put the fear of a thousand gods into you. Thinks you're absolutely precious and wants nothing more than to take you away from all this (wants a cozy home with as many animals as possible (you'll have to stop this person from adopting all the animals in the city))

Stripper/consort who is very down to earth and flirtatious at the same time. They are a whore but know when to tone it down (consent is sexy). They get all touchy and apologize claiming it's just second nature to them. Always offers a free lap dance or something else if you're up for it ;).

And anyone else you can think of please don't be afraid to ask.

[sister-lucifer]

Brian/Hoodie, Toby, + Eyeless Jack with a chubby S/O

Brian, Toby, + EJ x Gender Neutral Reader (Separately)

[Anonymous Request]

Genre: Fluff + NSFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW but no smut, lots of body talk (all positive), so if that makes you uncomfortable be aware, oral sex (reader receiving), Toby likes to suck titties, Toby is very handsy 

A/N: i’m almost definitely projecting on this one cuz i have a chubby partner and i lub him🥺 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

Brian 

[SFW]

Brian’s a pretty lanky lad, he’s built like stickbug 

So having a chubby S/O would be a WONDERFUL contrast for him!

His favorite thing is being able to use you as a human weighted blanket 

He cant fall asleep without you, not after that first snuggle session! Your presence is so warm and calming 

You’re just perfect for cuddles, especially spooning 

Any excuse he has to wrap his arms around you, he’s taking it, 100% 

Big bear hug with a playful squeeze to boot 

+ He’s asking you to sit on his lap any chance he gets 

Oh there are three other chairs you could use? But he loves you:( Sit with him:( He’s just a little guy:(

( (manipulatively) )

I’m sure we all know that finding plus sized clothes that are cute but not expensive as FUCK is way too hard, but that problem is completely out the window now 

Brian has mad sewing skills, so he can alter OR duplicate anything you’d like! 

(The only catch is he has to make/get a matching one for himself, this is non-negotiable, sorry) 

[NSFW] 

Of course, we can’t always be family friendly wholesome here 

Let’s just say he loves having so much soft, plush skin to grab onto 

This man is a head giving god, like ridiculously skilled 

And not only that, he really enjoys doing it. For him it can sometimes be more enjoyable than the actual sex part 

He looooves grabbing onto your thighs and hips while he eats you out, just grabbing handfuls of everything he possibly can 

He gets really into giving oral too, like closing his eyes and moaning and just giving it his all, completely invested 

He’s gripping on for dear life 

Don’t be surprised if you have bruises in the shape of his fingertips 

And if you’re feeling especially generous, make sure you squeeze his head with your thighs 

It’s his fave ❤️ 

Toby 

[SFW]

Honestly this segment is gonna be pretty short 💀

Writing anything SFW for Toby is hard, he’s too much of a horndog 

He’s also a cuddle bug much like Brian, so a lot of those headcanons could apply to him 

He’s very tactile so he tends to be grabby, especially with your thighs and love handles 

Not even exclusively in a sexual way, a lot of the time it’s really just a sensory thing 

His hands just absentmindedly wander, and you just happen to be close by most of the time 

He’s not a big fan of anyone or anything laying on top of him at all since it makes him feel trapped, so he likes laying on top of you instead! 

It really helps calm him down after he gets hyper or upset 

[NSFW]

Forgive me if this is a controversial take, BUT: 

Toby is a boobs guy 

And I don’t just mean breasts, I don’t just mean AFAB chests

Any sort of soft chest fat will do 

He’s using his mouth a loooot, sucking and biting and leaving little marks all over your chest and nipples 

And every chance he gets he will grab your chest 

You could be fully clothed doing something completely unrelated to him and if he walks by he’s slipping his hands under your shirt 

He’s grabbing everything tbh 

Once again, it’s a sensory thing that can wind up horny 

He loves your thighs even more than Brian does 

Thigh jobs are his fave ever, not only because your thighs are easy to get to at all times but because they’re so warm and soft and perfect!! 

And the entire time his wandering mitts are squeezing and groping every bit of skin he can get to 

Jack

[SFW] 

Since EJ can’t exactly rely on his sight, he has to use his other senses, one of the most common ones being touch 

He can be touchy too, but not in the same way Toby is 

He doesn’t grab or squeeze or anything, he simply runs his hands over you, often over your clothes 

He likes feeling the softness and the curves of your body, just tracing his fingers over your hips and tummy 

Especially holding your face, rubbing his thumbs over your round cheeks and admiring your beauty in his own way 

He also headbutts like a cat when he wants attention, so don’t he surprised when you randomly feel his face against your stomach or leg 

If you really wanna show him love, let him lay on your chest while you scratch his head 

He likes to be able to listen to your heartbeat 

Jack has many animal like behaviors, one of those being kneading or ‘making biscuits’ like a cat 

If he’s kneading the soft skin of your stomach or thighs, that’s how you know he’s suuuuuper comfortable 

Like, as comfortable as he can possibly get 

Be prepared to be used as a pillow very often 

[NSFW] 

Jack is also good at giving head, but not in the same way Brian is 

He’s not as skilled or practiced, but you can’t go wrong with up to five squirming tentacle tongues working to get you off at any given time 

(Plus, he purrs, which basically turns his mouth into a vibrator) 

He also really enjoys fingering you, and will often use his hands and tongue at the same time 

Your insides are just so warm and soft, and he’s attracted to that heat 

He could get lost in your warmth and sweet taste 

He’ll run his hands gently over your body the entire time, and it’s certainly not unusual for him to knead during these sorts of activities 

He likes to lick you as well, and if you allow him to get a bit carried away, he’ll run his tongue up and down your body 

There’s just something about your plush skin and wonderful curves that completely captivate him in a way that nothing else can 

[shall-we-die]

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{Jealousy}

How jealous do they get? || What do they do when they're jealous?

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↬[Fandom]•⊰ {Moriarty the Patriot}࿐

↬[Warnings]•⊰ {None}࿐

☰[Main list]•⊰ ─────┈┈{0003}┈─╮

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╰┈➤Likes/Reblogs are appreciated࿐

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↬|William| (9/10)

• William will get jealous when someone he cares deeply for, gives equal or more affection to someone else, especially if that person isn't truly worthy of their attention, or worse. He's quite possessive by nature, if that wasn't obvious.

• If you prefer spending more time with others compared to him, he'd honestly be jealous. I suppose you'd know when he's jealous when he starts clinging you, demanding your attention.  He'd just try to keep you for himself.

• When he's jealous... he thinks about all the things the other could be doing to 'steal' you away from him. How they spend time with you, talk to you, make you laugh...I mean, you're an amazing person in William's eyes, and he wants you all to himself.

• William mostly gets jealous when someone flirts with his lover or when someone shows any kind of attraction towards them, since he considers them to be *his* and only his. This is especially true after a while, since William can develop an unhealthy kind of attachment to his loved one and start to consider them as an extension of himself, a sort of possessive attitude that he knows is wrong.

• and When it comes to getting rid of a love rival who thinks it's funny to play with his heart, he would simply show the other side of the coin. The savage side of it.

{"I could be the worst person they'll have ever met. Ever"}

• You can be very comforting after he got jealous by showing that you care and understand his  feelings. Reassure him that there's no need to be jealous as you only have eyes for him. Comfort him with words of affection and appreciation.

Show him that you still want to spend time with him despite what happened. Make sure to remind him of his value and worth.

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↬|Albert| (10/10)

• Albert is fiercely protective of the people he cares about, and he'll be sure to show it. As a result, he gets very jealous when it comes to romance. He wants to be the only one who gets to take care of and spend time with his partner, and he won't tolerate any attempts by another individual to intervene. This can manifest in him constantly asking about his partner's comings and goings, or being openly rude to people who show interest in them.

• Albert's jealousy in a relationship is rooted in an insecurity. While he may seem like someone confident and suave, he's always afraid of losing his partner, feeling there is always someone "better" than him out there. He wants to be appreciated, and if he isn't, he'll act out, passive aggressively or otherwise.

• In the face of a love rival, Albert might become a little more flirtatious, a little more playful, little more dangerous in order to try and win back his partner's affections.

• He isn't one for direct confrontation without good reason, but he's not afraid of playing dirty. He's known to be quite manipulative and scheming when he wants to be, and this may apply to getting rid of a love rival.

• If his lover wants to comfort him, they must be prepared to give extra attention, show signs of affection and make compliments towards him as well as reassuring him he's their center of the world. He may not be able to admit it, but he wants to be *needed* and be his partner's center of existence, especially if he believes he's not their first choice in a romantic sense.

{"Jealousy? It's an odd thing, is it not? Jealousy stems from the fear of being without, the fear of being alone. When they stop caring, or when they pretend to care. When someone stops investing time and emotion into a relationship, when they grow complacent because they already have you. That's what creates loneliness, because you feel as if you're the only one trying."}

• yes he's also so dramatic...

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↬|Louis| (10000/10)🚩

• Louis is very possessive of his partner, and anything that he considers to be a threat to their relationship would make him very jealous. This includes any sort of deception or dishonesty, lack of communication, spending time with other people, and not placing their partner's needs or feelings at top priority.

• He would see a romantic rival in a very negative light, and would likely react in an aggressive or even violent way if they attempted to take over his relationship with his partner. He may become possessive and controlling out of fear of losing what he views as his property, and would go to great lengths to protect his relationship by any means necessary.

• When he's jealous, hus behavior can vary. He may becomes withdrawn and isolate himself from his lover or also may tries to make his lover jealous by showing interest in someone else.

• Louis may becomes distant towards his lover, or may even lashes out with anger. He may tries to ignore the jealousy and attempt to hide it away. In extreme cases, He may even tries to manipulate the situation and attempt to control his lover, which is unhealthy and not recommended.

{"Stay away from what's mine. If you even think about interfering with my relationship, you'd be making the biggest mistake of your life."}

• While he may feels insecure, you could reassure him and attempt to allay his concerns. You could have a discussion that's more open and honest, so that he may expresses his worries to you. In addition, you could attempt to show him your commitment and love for him, as this is most likely where his jealousy originates, from fear of losing you.

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↬|Sebastian| (4/10)

• He has always considered jealousy to be a rather negative and unnecessary feeling, particularly in romantic relationships. If you guys are in love with each other and you're spending time with other people, he would be rather happy for you. After all, it's very important for both of you to have your own interests and a sense of independence. There's no reason to be jealous of others enjoying their time with you.

• It's completely understandable to feel a certain level of apprehension when his partner gets close to another male (that he's not familiar with). However, he also believes that trust is an essential component of any romantic relationship.

• He's so confident in his role as a partner, and he trusts that anyone he has chosen to share his life with, wouldn't betray his trust. That said, if his partner were to take up a close friendship with another man, or was constantly spending time in places he wasn't welcome, it might make him question your commitment to this relationship.

• He's not one to tolerate jealousy or envy in his relationships, so if someone appeared who he felt was a threat to his love with his partner, he would be direct in confronting them. If he felt it was necessary, he would make his presence known in an attempt to intimidate or dissuade them from interfering with your relationship.

{"Sweetheart, let's talk about this."}

• After he becomes jealous of your interactions with another male, he would appreciate some reassurance and affection from you. He would like to have a meaningful conversation in which you let him know that he can trust you and you have no secret agenda with that person. Furthermore, some extra attention and affection would go a long way in making him feel better.

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↬|Sherlock| (5/10)

• Sherlock is not overly jealous by nature. Even with his love of the chase, he recognizes that jealousy is a pointless emotion that only leads to further conflict.

• However, he does get irritated when his feelings for someone seem to be unreciprocated, and he can be a bit possessive, wanting to be the only one that gets to spend quality time with them. He doesn't necessarily dislike the idea of sharing, but does want to be prioritized over other people. He is also very observant, noticing even the smallest change in behavior from someone he is interested in. Seeing this change could make him feel jealous.

• It's not really clear whether Sherlock is a particularly jealous person or not, it's certainly possible that he could feel jealous under certain circumstances. Some of the things that might make Sherlock feel jealous include seeing his partner interacting with another man, particularly if it appears flirtatious; learning that his partner is hiding something from him; or discovering that his partner has been spending more time with someone else than they have with him.

{"Jealousy is a waste of time, in my opinion, I feel no need to get jealous of anyone because I know our relationship is strong enough that no other person could weaken it."}

• Being protective of those he loves, Sherlock would be upset if he knew another person had entered the picture, and would do anything he has to to reclaim his partner's attention. He might get overly protective of the person he is pursuing, and use his skills in deduction and manipulation to sabotage the rival and bring his love back to him.

• When Sherlock feels jealous, he just needs a bit of reassurance and love from his partner. He needs to be shown that he is still their number one. This can include spending quality time together doing activities that Sherlock enjoys, complimenting him, and being extra affectionate. Showing him that he is still their top priority can go a long way in alleviating Sherlock's jealous feelings and putting his mind at ease.

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↬|John| (4.5/10)

• John doesn't usually like showing his jealousy easily. However, if you were to spend too much time with another person, or if you were to prioritize them over him, that would definitely make him jealous. He understands that certain things must be done for work or to help friends, but being ignored altogether is something he cannot deal with. It's a fine line between trust and insecurity, and John appreciates it if you're considerate of his feelings.

• John will usually try to suppress his feelings of jealousy and act outwardly composed, but if the source of his jealousy is right in front of him, he has been known to become cold and quiet. He may try to make light of the situation and attempt to downplay his feelings, but deep down he is stewing in his own hurt and anger. At times like these, he usually retreats into himself and tries to figure out how to move forward without coming across as an insecure and controlling mess.

• John tends to get jealous when the people he deeply cares about aren't honest with him, when he feels like he's being left out, or when someone he loves is being mistreated. He is also a very protective person and will get jealous if a friend or loved one is close with someone else, or if he feels like their attention and care is being divided. He's always worried about losing other people's affections. It's the result of being somewhat isolated during his childhood and needing to fight to find people to accept and love him.

• If John got jealous over someone, he would initially feel like he should say nothing and work through his feelings alone. However, if his partner noticed and asked him about it, he would try to be honest and explain his feelings.

{"I'm feeling a little bit jealous right now, but I still trust and love you. I'm just scared of losing you, so please don't take my feelings personally."}

• John would appreciate it if you took the time to reassure him that there's nothing to worry about, and that you truly are devoted to him and only him. He would also like you to give him some time and space to process his feelings, and you can help by being understanding and supportive. If you want to do something extra special for him, try and treat him to his favorite meal or a relaxing getaway to help him unwind. it's okay to give your partner the benefit of the doubt and trust their feelings for you, and John would appreciate the same.

||[🄹ealousy]||

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     ⇆ㅤㅤ◁🄸ㅤㅤ❚❚ㅤㅤ🄺▷ㅤㅤ↻

[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.

[the-delta-quadrant]

aces always say "you can be asexual and have sex" but honestly, based on how people act and what they say, it just feels like neither aces nor allos actually believe it.

and i'm not expecting that much from most allos anyway, but i do expect more from my fellow aces.

please note that i'm writing this from a strictly asexual perspective, meaning i never experience any sexual attraction, as that's my personal experience.

way too often i see aces imply that if you're ace and have sex that you must be greysexual, especially if you enjoy sex, because apparently no one who is strictly asexual would ever have, let alone like, sex. which is bullshit because there are many reasons that someone would want to have sex that aren't sexual attraction, including liking the stimulus. i love my greysexual siblings, but that's just not me.

while i'm not much into fandom culture, it's kinda inescapable, especially on tumblr. and it seems like many times a character is commonly headcannoned as ace, allos who don't like it will make posts, sometimes even entire memes about how "x character fucks", as if that somehow means they can't possibly be asexual. i'm not mega surprised that allos do this, but i am surprised and disappointed that on many occasions i've seen aces agree with this, reblog it, etc. like, please. there are asexuals who fuck.

then there's this whole thing that where a character is portrayed as being comfortable having sex after getting close to someone is almost always headcanoned as demisexual even when there is no sign of sexual attraction. like, i've been with my partner for many years and it took me a while to be comfortable with sex, not because i developed sexual attraction to him but because i feel a deep trust and comfort with him. just because my comfort level and behaviour changed doesn't mean i'm demisexual instead of asexual. i still don't experience sexual attraction to anyone, including my partner.

also people act as if aces who have sex are less affected by their asexuality in every day life which is bs, asexuality affects my whole relationship to sex and sexuality, not just the attraction part and it does affect how i approach my romantic relationship. not to mention that "broken" feeling before figuring out i was ace.

and then there's just this ubiquitous attitude where it's generally implied that being asexual means not having or wanting sex, through memes, just through how people talk about asexuality (in general terms, of course it's different when people talk about personal experiences).

and, slightly more specific, whenever people do list reasons why someone who's strictly ace might have sex, "they just like it" is rarely listed as a reason. it's totally possible to like something but not really having an urge to do it, not caring if you don't do it often, not caring if you'd never do it again. you can enjoy something and still be "yeah, whatever" about it.

like, so many aces say "you can be ace and have sex" but then don't do that much to not constantly exclude us and make us feel less than and like we don't really belong. (and some of this does apply to the wider ace spectrum too.)

[devotion-disorder]

UR ART IS SO PRETTY 😍😍🙏🙏 lT MAKES ME WANNA GOBBLE IT UP

Have any tips? I've been tryna get into drawing but i'm rlly strugglimg 😭

First off THANMKYOU FOR YOUR NICE WORDS....🥺🫶🫶

i'm gonna assume you're asking about advice for people that are just getting started with drawing! Now im not a ~seasoned~ artist or anything, i've only been drawing on-and-off for about 7 ish years? so this is all coming from someone who only approaches art as more of a casual hobby... also if you're asking about more technical/ practical advice then feel free to send another ask because I don't really go into that here lol :p

Honestly, i recall that being a beginner artist was tough, because the gap in my skill level and my expectations seemed so daunting. The hardest part was probably having to motivate myself to keep going even when it's hard to see actual progress and, again, the disappointment in "what I draw does not match what I envision in my head". It's hard and sometimes I question what am I even doing all this for. As of right now I can say that this feeling doesn't ever really go away, just that now I've managed to build a bit more confidence in my stuff.

So how I see it is that it's important to find a way to keep yourself motivated no matter what, so that you have it in you to keep practicing, improving, or at least, to just keep drawing. This is something that is gonna look different for everyone so I think it'd be a good idea to explore yourself what can keep you motivated. I was very lucky in that the people around me were also into drawing and were always really nice and supportive, so they played a huge role in building up my confidence - such that I wasn't afraid to experiment and take risks, which is necessary for learning and getting better.

Another major thing for me is to remember to have fun with art, and understand that as long as I managed to enjoy some parts of the process then I've "succeeded" so to speak, even if I don't like the end results. This still applies now...it's frustrating when something I spent time on doesn't turn out the way I wanted, but at least rendering it was fun and relaxing, so it was still a good use of my time. Its about striking a balance i guess; its important to practice and do fundamentals etc etc but imo its equally important to draw things that will make you want to keep drawing. for some this could be doing fanart, for others it could be original art. Social media and fandom-ry is a whole 'nother can of worms, but I will say that they were helpful to me in keeping me motivated and inspired. so basically its this *taps sign*

anyhow i hope that was helpful,,,,, i hope I didn't come off as preachy because im the last person with any authority to be telling other people about art so it was mostly just my own experience with art...but i think its really just about finding your own rhythm and if you keep at it you will get better...either way GOOD LUCK I BELIVBE IN YOU AND I HOPE YOU HAVE FUN🫶🫶🫶🫶

[libraartz]

Come on Y'all 😐

Warning: Minor spoilers I'll try not to spoil too much

I don't usually made posts like this but I need to get this off my chest. This is about MHA Volume 42 ending. Yall... Omg bro... Yall gotta be shitting me man... I tryna say I'm genuinely dissapointed, not in the ending, but in the fucking fandom bro... Like are yall joking right now? In case you don't know MHA's newest volume has some additonal pages and Horikoshi changed up the ending some you know and what do I see. People complaining about the ending AGAIN and breaking down about the ships. Mostly BakuDeku fans. This is no shade to any shippers since I do multiships on my AO3 as well as rare-pairs so no hate to a lot of yall. But I'm honestly dissappointed in yall because ever since those leaks yall have been going ballistic... As in BALLISTIC on twitter and TikTok. I don't have twitter (And never will) But I've been seeing some screenshots on Tiktok and I just let out a huge sigh. Don't worry I know it ain't all of yall cuz some of yall are chill but I'm sill dissapointed.

People are saying IzuOcha (That's suppose to be implied idk but I'll get to the idk part) are going to ruin Ochako's character development, this that and the third. SOME (if it don't apply let it fly) of yall are some of the most agitating, delusional people I've ever seen bro. It's just like 2021-2022 all over again and now I'm seeing some toxic bakudeku d0x and send threats to people and it hasn't even been a full 24-48 hours. Yall do relize that even if it becomes cannon yall can still ship BakuDeku right? Cuz now yall are setting yourselves back and making the fandom look worse than it already is and stuff like this is why I do my thing on my teeny tiny tumblr and Ao3 account to stay away from yall.

And another thing it's about the hero rankings part (Some spoilers!!!) . I'm seeing people, mostly Bakugo fans complain about Bakugo being 15 in the charts and I'm see a whole bunch of hate towards Monoma and Shoji because they're on the top 10... Yall are some of the most illiterate mfs I've ever seen 😐. Like did we even read the same manga and watch the same anime? Shoji is number 9 (and rightfully so my underrated king, as you mf should 😤✊🏽) because he's like the symbol of peace for heteromorphs. He literally stopped THOUSANDS of heteromorphs from storming the hospital and doing something that would of possibly resulted in bloodshed and set them back three decades at like 16 years old. There was a small panel in chapter 430 where Shoji was shaking hands with some dude (I'll find the link) but it was like a huge deal since the guy was a huge goverment deal (idk but yall know what I mean), Shoji was like idk 17-18. Since his debute he's been doing all he could for hetermorph communities and at 24 he was awarded the Imamura Peace Prize. AS HE MF SHOULD! So ntm on him 🙄✋🏽. And for Monoma, who's grown on me... Ngl I actually like his character now, he was bullied for his quirk and he was told he was sidekick material, basically putting him down since quirks like his are not that recognized. So now that he made it to no. 10 maybe he's able to show young kids with quirks like his that they can do it. Same with Shoji, he's a huge impact on the heteromorph community. Plus they've both gotten stronger during those 8 years.

Now for Bakugo's situation. In Chapter 430 Aizawa told Deku that Bakugo was lowered on the rankings AGAIN because he was cussing out the reporters... Yall he's still able to rise again and plus if he's low now, just IMAGINE what he'd rank if his past of bullying came to light. And remember, Hawks is now a leader of the HPSC, that's in charge of the rankings so he also plays a huge part of how the rankings changed. The ranking's aren't' just about power, it's about popularity and how the heros impact the fans in a way. Like yall need to use yall brains and have some sort of media literacy. Now am I dissapointed Ochaco and Tsu wasn't in the top 20 at least? Sorta but they still have the chance to get higher.

Now please go eat something, drink some water, touch some grass, take a deep breath and calm down. Horikoshi changed the ending only for yall not to be satisfied and people saying that this could be ai is honestly dissapointing considering the about of time and work Horikoshi put into this. This is just like when people were misinterpreting chapter 430 and spreading misinformation and it's happening again. Yall are not satisfied with nothing and I'm starting to see why alot of people don't fw a lot of yall. Like yall seriously need to do the fuck better.

PS: Those who read my AO3, look out for updates on my fics I just trying to juggle school with writing but I should be uploading soon :D

[theshadowsingersraven]

this nyxlin drama lowkey reminds me of the time a zutara artist was run off tumblr because they drew aged up katara/zuko romantically, but I think it was actually angry kataang’s or e/riel’s -because they also drew gwynriel and e/riel’s were jealous- who were stirring up shit 😭

That would honestly make a lot of sense for how/why I didn't see many posts from them or overall in the Nyxlin tag when I was catching up on what happened. Pretty much every person (notably largely Elriels) who supported Elain Week's censorship got an insta-block from me if they weren't already. And I'm sure a decent amount of people blocked me from my stance on Elaingate, Rhys Week, and Nyxlin Week.

And good! You should block me. Seriously. Art has the right to be celebrated and appreciated, especially in the circumstances designed to do that for a specific character and dynamic! Character appreciation and celebration will never look the same to everyone, and just because it's not what you enjoy doesn't mean it stops being appreciative or celebratory. If you can't grasp that, you don't deserve access to my art anyway. You certainly don't deserve to be in my space, that's for damn sure. Kindly, get out.

Honestly, it kind of makes sense considering the overlap of canon rigidity, purity culture, and morality policing of fiction coming from sides of the fandom that generally can't accept criticism about their faves, or even things that go against what they want for their faves. They are terrified of creativity that doesn't give them what they want and it shows. It's the most Evangelical-ass shit ever, and it's fucking weird.

Like...for all intents and purposes, Nyx is an OC in any works that feature him. And I'd know, because I wrote an adult Nyx for my ongoing ACOTAR D&D campaign set 20 years after ACOSF. So yes, Nyx is twenty in my timeline, because it's writing and I can do what I want lol. I have no basis to write Nyx off of other than Rhys and Feyre. Which means...I'm still doing my own character-building to only less than I would for a completely new OC.

Let's compare, shall we?

Writing my OC Solara's backstory: Writing her parents from scratch ✔️ Writing her early childhood ✔️ Writing her trauma ✔️ Writing her adolescence and relationships ✔️ Writing her interests and adventures as she became an adult✔️ Writing her dynamic with her love interest and how she interacts with Prythian as a whole ✔️

Now obviously these are all at minimum influenced by/will be derivative of aspects of ACOTAR because, y'know, transformative works. But still, I made her.

Writing Nyx's backstory and how he is as a twenty-year-old adult: Writing his parents from scratch ❌ Writing his early childhood ✔️ Writing any trauma he might have ✔️ Writing his adolescence and relationships ✔️ Writing his interests and adventures as he became an adult ✔️ Writing his dynamic (collaboratively) with his love interest and how he interacts with Prythian as a whole ✔️

And this is a version of Nyx that I made. Yes, it's still influenced by canon, but if I put in 90% of the same effort to write him as an adult as I did a complete OC, we can acknowledge they're functionally the same.

It's not that people look at Baby!Nyx and instantly think he's perfect to be shipped with someone and there's something to be gleaned from canon about him in particular. We know nothing about Nyx as an individual. That applies to any Nyx ship.

The appeal, at least in my experience, to Nyx ships, including Nyxlin, is the dynamics at play around Nyx, i.e., his role as an eventual leader and powerful figure in the Night Court, the dynamics that affect Rhys and Feyre also extending to him, how the rest of Prythian/Illyria might view the first offspring of High Fae, Illyrian, and Made parents. It's about his circumstances, not him as a character because he is not a "character yet", he just exists!

People are just creative enough to consider those long-term effects on who he could become and how that interplays with other characters. I don't mean to be cruel, but genuinely, have these people never created an OC before? Have they never shipped anything outside of canon? Have they never read any fics featuring time travel, for example, as a plot point to get characters in the same era at the same time when otherwise the ship would not be able to happen? Are they that unfamiliar with making circumstances outside of SJM's canon to allow things to happen for fun?

Genuinely, the lack of creativity for all of us being in this for reading and writing is concerning.

Even just saying this and advocating for Nyxlin's right to be celebrated as well as Tamlin as a whole pretty much puts me in the position of having to tag this as pro-Tamlin. And I wouldn't even describe myself as anything other than Pro-Azriel and probably Pro-Nesta and Pro-Elain because I don't really dislike any characters. I'm equally as critical to all of them and if their good parts just sort of cancel out the bad or are only a bit outweighing one or the other...I don't actively dislike them, I'm just neutral about them.

But this fandom is so fucking polarized because of the toxicity and the Us v.s. Them, Morality Policing culture that's been festering, people can't even neutrally address something. People are harassed so quickly just for not understanding or being familiar with something, and then in the other court people do the harassing because they don't understand or aren't familiar with something the other party likes/dislikes. If don't utterly despise Tamlin, it's somehow considered supportive enough to qualify as "pro" to antis.

Too many people in this fanbase create this parasocial-adjacent attachment to these characters like they're real and have real feelings/boundaries that need to be protected. They are not! Characters can't be hurt by anything happening outside the narrative. Just because you personally do not like something/don't find it appealing or even find it discomforting does not mean it's morally objectionable. It's just not for you, and understanding that experiencing content not made for you is not an attack on you is kind of a necessary life skill.

This rant ended up way longer than I expected it to be, but anyway...y'all stay safe out there.

[vyadeity]

Being Army Can Be Exhausting

Some Army are going to hate me for this but at this point I don’t care.

First off, I really don’t expect anyone to read this and that’s fine because I expect it.

There seem to be some very blatant rules in being Army that I feel either get misconstrued or are enfrorced with iron fist and if not followed….well are you even Army? I’ve been Army for years but sometimes we can be toxic as all get out.

This of course doesn’t apply to all Army. Get it? Got it? Good. If you’re sensitive, leave. I’m not debating or arguing with anybody.

Now, I’ve made a few notes, walk with me here:

BTS Only!

Yeah, no. I’ve been a K-pop fan for 14 years now and I’ve seen this sentiment come and go. Guess what? It never sticks. While I love BTS, they aren’t the only group to ever exist. It may feel that way to a lot of Army, it’s simply not true. You liking other groups doesn’t make me or you any less Army. Sorry not sorry.

And while I’ve only ever loved two other groups as much as BTS (honestly I don’t see that changing), I’m not cutting off an industry because of some bs If Multi Not Army rule reinforced by some.

Being a Multi is not some grand betrayal to BTS.

Buy Everything, We Must Support!

I simply can’t express how much I disagree with this! You know how many people can’t “afford” to be Army if that’s the case?

This shit is expensive lol. It’s not for the faint of heart. While I’m fortunate to be able to fund my support for them, I very much recognize that it’s not the case for everyone. BigHit drops merchandise almost on the daily! Between BTS, solo endeavors, TinyTan and BT21 our money is vanishing out of our wallets monthly.

Now have I spent a good amount of money on BTS merchandise? Yep! Official and unofficial, I sure have. Even spent a good amount of money on both my BTS tatts. Is what it is. But again, that’s a privilege I recognize. Some Army can only show their support through YouTube streams. Why? They’re free. And I’m sure BTS appreciates them all the same.

The pressure to keep up with other Army financially is enormous and even if you don’t subscribe to that way of thinking, you’ve surely seen it.

“Look at my decked out BTS themed room or apartment!”

“I bought Gucci/LV/Dior because now that BTS are brand ambassadors I have to show my support!”

Good on them but good God. Next thing you know, you’ve spent thousands of dollars trying to keep up and living on ramen packets but it’s okay because…I dunno…Army? No! Get a white T-shirt, a permanent marker, write BTS across the front and call it a day. Again, you’re just as much Army as anyone else.

They’re a Solo! Stone Them!

Shut up!

This is my biggest gripe with this fandom.

They’re a solo, so what? It doesn’t automatically mean that they hate the rest of the group. I know, I’m cool with a few of them. Not all Solos are created equal. You people have turned them on par with Satan and it’s nowhere near that serious.

Sometimes, you gel with one member and one member only. Sorry people, that’s just true for some. Nothing against the other members at all.

And yes yes, they are some extremely problematic solos out there. Not negating that. I specifically talking about the ones that aren’t.

Have I personally been called a solo? No but that’s because I rarely express my views on anything BTS because you will be attacked for it if it’s not the most positive glowing view.

Also the things I’ve seen on X, Instagram, TikTok and here have shown me some of the idiotic reasons people are labled solos. These are the reasons I see the most on my side of these platforms:

“You only post one of two members”

It’s called having biases, have we forgotten about that?

“You only buy music from one member!”

My wallet, my prerogative. I love the group’s music but not all them seperatley. Oooo I said it!

Solo music wise I regularly listen to Joonie, Jimin, Yoongi and Jungkook’s music. I don’t necessarily vibe with Hobi, Tae and Jin’s music. I don’t dislike their music, it’s just not for me. But I do buy the albums in show of support.

“You only watch content with certain members and not others!!”

This goes back to my initial point, sometimes you gel with certain members more than others. I gravitate, like we all do, to certain personalities. It’s just that simple.

There’s also burnout. I can’t watch everything because I do sometimes get sick of them! Love them to Jin’s moon and back but sometimes, I need a break. Get over it!

Live, Laugh, Love, Breathe BTS

No.

We have lives outside of BTS.

We have other interests outside of BTS.

BTS paved the way? I agree but I’m not going to get into Twitter and other social media battles over it. What’s understood doesn’t have to be explained.

BTS have lives outside of BTS. Some of you need to follow suit.

All In All

There’s a certain sub group of Army that try to make the rest of us adhere to what their definition of what Army is. It’s not cool, it’s not fair and it’s out and out toxic. Your willingness to be incredibly overbearing and toxic doesn’t make you more of a fan than the next Army member.

It goes against everything BTS stands for and some of you have lost sight of that.

And I will forever die on that hill.

And if any of these bullets hit you, do yourself a favor and make Joon proud, do better.

[ohmuqueen]

A good source of background info about Jongtae’s performance of “Internet War” from the SHINee reddit

transcript below:

[comment by user @/xiola_azuthra on reddit]:

The following is mainly copypasted from my comment in a thread here from 2 years ago, so please don't think any of my generalizations about fans-in-general is directed specifically at you or your own assumptions (I don't know what your assumptions are and whatever they are they're totally okay!). Some references are below as well.

I just always like to take the chance to bring this up since much of the fandom (especially the international fandom who haven't read the lyrics) has a tendency to always frame the discussion of this performance on the fanservice and homoeroticism elements, when it's actually MANY more layers than that (and the deeper layers are arguably the more interesting an important ones IMO); IMO Internet War is actually the opposite of "pure" fanervice; the fanservice is just the medium they used, but the piece actually has a strong message and some pretty clear symbolism once you check out the lyrics. This is my own interpretation from my own understanding of Jonghyun, the industry, and the lyrics, but YMMV:

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

As much as it's definitely a great performance, everyone seems to laud it as "homoeroticism and fanservice" without reading the lyrics and thinking about what it could mean - which, to me, is the more important and interesting part, and I think central to why Jonghyun defended it, why they kept performing it, and why the handcuffed moment at the end is the iconic part for him (the image he chose to post on his twitter during the backlash).

I've linked the lyrics below, they're by Seo Taiji and very, very non-idol like. They're extremely harsh/rude/angry and largely to do with toxic netizen culture; I think you could apply it to both internet trolls and chronically online netizens vs. each other as well as idols-vs-fans or celebrities-vs-the-public... how they are trapped in this cycle of mutually influencing each other, often in toxic ways. I definitely love me some fanservice as much as the next girl (I've been a BL fan for over half my life) and Jonghyun is a king of bi energy and I love him for it, but honestly after reading the lyrics and looking at the symbolism in the performance, I feel like the 2 most notorious parts of this performance are actually far less about the "edgy homoeroticism" and far more of a pretty *direct metaphor* acknowledging the often toxic bondage between idols and fans/netizens/public opinion.

If you add up the lyrics, the words of Jjong's fake tattoos with the names of his fansites, the symbolism in the fact that he's stripped down (vulnerable) while Taemin is fully-clothed (holds the balance of power), then you get this:

Jonghyun is the idol (the fake tattoos say "ideal boy/one in a million/many (all?) of them are the names of his fansites; his job is to seduce the public with an idealized image), and Taemin is the "public" who now wants everything he can give, can't be sated, wants to take ownership of him (cue Taemin feeling him up)... which makes the handcuffs at the end a very literal symbol; I feel like this performance acknowledges a lot of conflicts they are all aware of, but perhaps specifically Jonghyun... anger at all the toxicity they see online, awareness of how they know that they're selling a falsely idealized image, awareness of how a lot of this system is broken for both sides in many ways (ever-deepening parasocial relationships and everything good/bad that that entails), acknowledgement of how the idol/fan relationship changes both of us...

Which is to say, in the end, (IMO) the handcuffs are acknowledgement of the fact that he is quite literally *giving (or selling) his body to the fans (and the public) as a part of this cycle and and is beholden to this metaphorical bondage of idol-and-public-opinion.* And that obviously this is... neither an easy nor a purely "good" thing, despite how idols normally have to present themselves.

I just feel like this gets ignored because "omg Jjong is hot" and "omg JongTae" but... I think it's far more serious than that. It's actually incredibly ironic that there was so much netizen backlash over this at the time, since that's kind of exactly what it's about. >_>

----------

Lyrics: https://kpopchanted.wordpress.com/2012/09/21/internet-war-%EC%9D%B8%ED%84%B0%EB%84%B7-%EC%A0%84%EC%9F%81-seo-taiji/

---------

Jonghyun's response to backlash (two translations; he posted this comment + changed his profile image to the back shot of their handcuffed hands) http://www.twitlonger.com/show/itpphd / http://www.twitlonger.com/show/itpqqj

---------

(P.S. In retrospect it's a little amusing that Jonghyun got backlash for "corrupting" Taemin and pulling his hair, since the Taemin we know now leads me to believe that he totally suggested that bit himself ^^;;;

P.P.S. To address another concern I have seen before - in case anyone is concerned about Taemin's neck; note that there are stage-fight ways to do this sort of thing and they did it for a whole tour with no injury so it was clearly very choreographed. Jonghyun always pulls straight back, not at an angle (angles are less safe for the neck), and in order to make this move look dramatic in a safe way, the person having their hair pulled can throw their *own* head back, with the other person's grip much looser than it looks; if you time it correctly it looks the same.)

[drivinmeinsane]

City Life, Apple Pie

Driver x Reader ※ { masterlist } ※ { ao3 }

※ Summary: There’s a part of you that wonders if he would accept the brush of your fingertips over the back of his hand. If he would silently spread his fingers enough for yours to make a home between his. ※ Rating: G for general audiences. ※ Content/tags: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, No use of Y/N, No Pronouns Given for Reader ※ Word count: 2,510 ※ Status: One-shot ※ Author's note: Another year has passed me by in this fandom and I'm no less captivated by so many of these characters. Happy 44th to Ryan Gosling. ※ Song inspiration: Apple Pie - Lizzy McAlpine

“You and the kid doing anything special tonight?”

Shannon’s voice cuts through the ambient hum of the overhead lights. You grit your teeth at the loud intrusion but you don’t turn your attention away from the sheets of paper littering the overcrowded desk. Ever since you started working for Picture Car Warehouse, you’ve been one of the many victims of the grizzled mechanic’s long-winded and largely one-sided conversations.

Instead of indulging him in glazed-eyed attention, you nudge an oil smeared wrench out of the way of a paragraph you need to look over. It leaves a black smear behind on the already smudged paper. One of the fingerprints that have been pressed into the corner of the sheet has a glaring interruption in the pattern that makes you think it was accidentally left by Driver. He’d sliced his thumb open on a piece of sheet metal just a few days ago.

Metal scrapping was yet another one of Shannon’s questionable business plans. He seemed to be a variable fountain of ideas. You’re honestly surprised he’s only ended up with a broken pelvis from all the bullshit he’s talked about pulling during his lifetime.

The older man clears his throat in lieu of any response from you and continues. “Now, if I were you, I might try a pie. Kid’s never been one for cake. Not that I’ve seen anyway. He’s always at that diner. You know? The one over on San Fernando? Jack's? I think? Something with a car in the name, maybe.”

“What are you talking about?” you finally ask, trying to rein in your exasperation. Looking up at him, you rub your thumb over the pen in your grasp’s clicker—not quite applying enough pressure to trigger the mechanism. You just want to get this insurance claim dealt with so you can go find Driver and the two of you can go home to your shared rental and you can be tormented with thoughts of how badly you want to kiss the crooked smile off your roommate while you watch TV crammed on the tiny couch that came with the place.

Shannon raises his eyebrows at you from his position leaning against the desk. He is clearly surprised you’ve spoken at all.

“The kid?” he says, slowly. “It’s his birthday tomorrow. Didn’t he tell you?”

Your stomach swoops unpleasantly with surprise. Driver hasn’t said a damn word about it. There hasn’t even been the vaguest suggestion of even what month he was born in. He’d left you completely in the dark to that personal detail. It had seemed almost unimportant while you had collected the crumbs of what you did discover, hoarding the small details like precious gems. You know that he likes the pale blue of spring sky the best. You know he doesn’t eat sandwiches because of his mother. You’ve learned that he flexes his fingers on his steering wheel when he’s done too many hours of driving and his joints ache. You think you’re realizing that he does love—quietly and intently. But you don’t know when his damn birthday is.

Of course he hasn’t, you think, he’d rather take a hammer to his own head than to be an inconvenience or let on that he actually has wants or needs.

“No.”

At this admission, Shannon laughs and claps you on the shoulder with a work-roughened hand before heaving himself off the edge of the desk to return to work with some effort. You know the brace he wears digs at him—Lord knows he’s rubbed at his perpetually bruised hip and grumbled about any hint of humidity enough that half the guys in the shop have offered to chip in and get the “old man” a rocking chair so that he has a designated place to sit for his scheming and bitching.

Halfway through the door connecting the garage to the cramped office that fronts the building, Shannon pauses. His voice is crackling with a barely concealed amusement as he makes a confession.

“He didn’t tell me neither. I snuck a glance at his license back when I hired him.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

Driver shifts the car into another gear. The action is preformed so smoothly that you almost can’t feel the subtle hitch as the old Malibu responds. No wonder Shannon has been singing his praises as soon as he’s out of earshot. Driver is good—almost unreal—when it comes to vehicles. His actions have always been able to speak more for him than any meager handful of words ever could.

He leaves his hand resting on the gearshift. You feel your throat go dry as you shoot furtive glances at it. It’s unfair, really, the way that the setting sun casts vibrant light over his skin. It highlights the contours of his fingers and sets the fine hair dusting down his arms and over the backs of his hands aglow. Letting your eyes linger, you can make out the silver flashes of old scars.

You look away.

You have to clench your hand into a fist to avoid placing it over his. You want to touch him so badly. It’s a desire that has kicked around in the unreasonable parts of your mind ever since Shannon forcefully introduced the two of you on the back end of some B-list car chase movie. It has only intensified since you signed a lease agreement for a shitty two bedroom apartment together.

There’s a part of you that wonders if he would accept the brush of your fingertips over the back of his hand. If he would silently spread his fingers enough for yours to make a home between his.

Your nails dig into your palm, biting like a badly trained dog. You can’t bring yourself to risk destroying your friendship with the quiet man at your side. It would be better to swallow down the bitter taste of unspoken admissions than to find yourself without his company at all.

Unable to take the usually comfortable silence of the ride home, you speak, thinking to the earlier conversation with Shannon. Your gaze is firmly fixated through the windshield. If you look at your roommate, you might cry.

“Cherry, peach, or apple?”

There’s a long moment of silence, so long that you’re not sure if he’s mulling over his response or if he’s that taken aback by your sudden questioning.

“Apple,” he says, voice soft. There’s a fondness in the depths of that one single word that you must be imagining.

“Okay,” you respond, swallowing down your own affection that threatens to bubble to the surface. You can work with that. There’s some apples taking up residence in a chipped bowl on the counter.

Scenery passes by. Neither of you make a stab at conversation for the rest of the way back to the apartment building. Silence has become second nature between the two of you. There’s an easy comfort in it.

───※ ·❆· ※───

“Got a job,” Driver says halfway through the movie you’re watching.

You look away from the TV.

The mechanic is sprawled out beside you on the couch, legs spread wide as he sags back into the worn material. His empty bowl from the dinner the two of you made together is perched on one knee. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off of his body. You feel drawn to it like a moth to a light. In the glow of the television, it’s so easy to imagine his arm draping over your shoulders and drawing you against the firm line of his body.

There has still been no mention of his birthday. You’re entirely certain that he’s going to just let it slip by without a word.

No real name, no birthday, no desires. He’s forcing himself to be a blank slate for the projection of others. It makes your heart hurt.

“What is it?” you ask, surprised that he’s going out after working at the garage since the sun teased the horizon and long after it tipped over the apex. Shannon has a tendency to overwork him.

He lets silence unfold after your question as fantastical plants come to light on the screen in front of you. You’re more intent on the minute changes in his expressions—a raise of his eyebrow, the flutter of his eyelashes against his cheeks—than on the movie.

Finally, Driver stands up. He holds his hand out to take your empty bowl. The brush of your fingers together as you pass it to him sends sparks through your stomach.

“Just taking some guys ‘cross town. Might take a coupla hours." He heads towards the kitchen with his cargo.

You follow after him, taking up residence in the doorway as he scrubs the bowls clean and sets them in the drying rack beside the sink. Wanting to be of some use, you lean over to snag his jacket off the hook by the front door. You offer it to him when he turns away from slipping the hand towel back over the oven handle. He takes it from you with a warm squint of his eyes and shrugs into it. The slick material shines blue from the distant television lights.

“Be careful,” you tell him. You want to kiss him goodbye. You don’t move.

There’s a pregnant silence. Palpable tension fills the air. The two of you are on the cusp of something.

The bubble doesn’t burst. The wheelman just nods and slips out the door, locking it behind him with a twist of his wrist. You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding.

His departure gives you time to pour over the battered cookbook some previous tenant had left behind in one of the kitchen cabinets. You should have just enough time to attempt making a pie. It can’t be that hard, surely. People have been making pies for centuries.

───※ ·❆· ※───

It proved to be a difficult task, far harder than you could have ever thought. You wipe down the counter, cleaning up the last traces of what had felt like an hour and a half fight for your life. You toss the rag over the sink faucet and look at your finished project with despair.

The pie is awkward and lumpy—almost a bad finger painting come to life.

Fuck. You know you should have walked to somewhere, anywhere, or coughed up the money for a taxi to find one made by a professional. This looks like shit.

A lump builds in your throat, quickly followed by involuntary tears leaping to your eyes. He’s done so much for you just by being a steady presence in your life for the past few months. The least you could have done was make him something presentable

Your self-pity is cut short by the solid step of boots outside the door, followed shortly by the clatter of keys making contact with the doorknob. Driver is home.

Nervous, you brush your hands over your face and gather yourself. With more confidence in your voice than you feel, you call out, “Welcome back.”

In response, you hear the rustle of a jacket being stripped off and folded under one arm, closely followed by a quiet exhale. The mechanic appears around the corner. Upon seeing you, a crooked smile slowly spreads over Driver’s face. He tosses his keys onto the counter with an easy motion of his arm. You’re blocking his view of the pie.

“Somethin’ smells good.” He sounds tired. There’s exhaustion lining weighing down the corners of his eyes.

“I…” you start, trailing off. Rallying yourself, you try again. “It’s not midnight yet so…”

Confusion creases the space between his eyebrows and he opens his mouth to speak, but you’re already turning and gesturing to your sad attempt at making pie.

“I know it’s not much, but happy birthday.”

Driver goes still and steps to your side to stare down at the misshapen dough. Apple juice and sugar have bubbled to the top, caramelizing into crispy, golden puddles. The expression on his face is almost too fragile to put a name to.

“How did you know?” The words he utters are barely more than a whisper.

“Shannon. He told me this afternoon.”

There’s a pause before he speaks, voice laden with helpless affection, “’Course he did.”

You feel like you’re about to fall over the edge of some unseen precipice. Vertifo threatens to overwhelm you. Shakily, you set to work carving Driver out a slice a pie. The mess you deposit on the plate could pass as a crime scene. You’re careful not to meet his eyes as he takes the plate from you after discarding his jacket onto the counter, covering up his keys.

The kitchen is filled with the low groan of the fridge kicking on. There’s the sudden whoosh of water darting through the pipes when one of the neighbors overhead turns on their sink. The scrape of the stunt driver’s fork is loud enough to echo in your mind while you stare at the glistening mixture in the pie pan still clinging to the void where the slice had been. Your chest feels tight. The lump in your throat is persistent.

Driver sets his plate on the counter with a soft clatter. A cautious glance reveals that it’s empty. He’d all but licked it clean.

“Hey.” His voice is quiet. Tender.

It’s tender enough that you look at him. That familiarly crooked smile is tugging at his lips. He reaches for you. Warm fingers brush against your side as he crowds into your space. The fabric of your shirt hardly feels like a barrier.

You barely get a breath out before he’s kissing you. He tastes like sugar and the cloying sweetness of baked apples. It’s all you can do to find his arms and hold onto him like the lifeline he’s come to be. He is sturdy underneath your clinging hands.

Much to your displeasure, Driver pulls back. He stays close enough that his nose brushes yours as his eyes seem to be searching yours for an answer to an unspoken question. Tension leaves his face as he finds it.

“Thank you for…” he lets the rest of the sentence die out, breath hitching in response to your touch.

Your hands slide over his biceps on their journey upwards. One takes residence on his shoulder while the other slips between his shoulder blades. Your fingers find their way into the short hair at his nape.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you respond and press your mouth against his in another kiss.

Eagerly, he accepts the affection. He sways on his feet, chasing after you when you break the contact. His lips brush over your cheek and you stop him in his tracks with a light touch on his sternum before taking his hand. His calloused fingers intertwine easily with yours as you lead him in the direction of your bedroom.

There is still some time before his birthday is officially over. You want to make the most of it.

Do not repost, copy, or reproduce my work to other sites or in other media formats. Do not use it for anything to do with AI. Thank you.

[musicalmoritz]

I saw your post about giving tbhk characters songs and I noticed a bunch of them were musical theater and they fit so fucking well??

Like waving through a window for Sousuke and dead mom for Kou?? Unlikely lovers?? Music of the night??? Your mind omg.

I was wondering if you had more musical theater to tbhk characters stuff because id definitely like to hear them lol. It's totally fine if you don't have more, in case not, you could give more non musical stuff.

I’ve been behind on my asks so I’m trying to get caught up and this seems like the best one to start with, musicals have been rotting my brain since the eighth grade. I’m gonna be honest, I don’t remember every song I listed in the original post so I apologize if some of these are repeats!!

TW: Brief mention of suicide ideation for one of the songs/characters

• Idk how much you’d count this one as a musical song but Once Upon A Dream from Sleeping Beauty makes me think of Mitsukou/Soukou (especially in the context of the new timeline)

• I have to apply Dentist! from Little Shop Of Horrors to every sadist character so it’s going to Teru, maybe he can do that if he ever smartens up and quits exorcism (I would give it to Kou but Teru is like. wayyyy more upfront abt his sadism lol)

• Tango: Maureen from Rent except every character in TBHK besides Mitsuba and Mei is lowkey bisexual so there are so many ways it could go. Hanako and Aoi about Nene. Teru and Aoi about Akane. Mitsuba and Nene about Kou. The possibilities are endless

• Popular from Wicked with Aoi and Nene…because yk we always see Aoi giving Nene popular girl advice. I am aware her character goes deeper than that I’m just being silly

• Love Me For What I Am from In Trousers with Nene but just for the “I met a man in a can” line. She did, in fact, meet her boyfriend in a bathroom

• Helpless from Hamilton with AoiAoi and then Satisfied with Terukane. I think I’ve seen an animatic for this but there are a lot of Hamilton animatics for different fandoms so I could be mistaken

• Alyssa Greene from The Prom with Aoi

• And on that note, The Lady’s Improving with Yako or Sumire (Sumire bcuz you can add in Hakubo for the romantic context). Quite honestly I love The Prom sm, it’s very overhated imo bcuz the songs are all bangers

• Portrait Of A Girl from Bare: A Pop Opera with Aoi and Akane before their development

• More with Bare because I love queer musicals, Role Of A Lifetime with Mitsuba in the context of Mitsukou. They can’t be together forever and Mitsuba knows that so he’s confused on what Kou wants…see the vision

• Seventeen from Heathers with HanaNene but bonus points if it’s Picture Perfect Amanene when they tried to run away together

• There’s A Fine, Fine Line from Avenue Q with Nene…possibly after Nakahara rejected her

• I feel like the concept of She Used To Be Mine from Waitress could be applicable to so many female characters because context aside, it has major theme of going from girlhood to womanhood + overcoming a lot of trauma, so it’s hard for me to nail down just one. Perhaps yorishiro Sumire? Could also apply to Nene

• You Gotta Die Sometime from Falsettos with Mei (my sister and I quote the opening line to each other every time one of us is sick…but also oof this song hurts me)

• This one is a bit nonsensical but I like to imagine The Worst Pies In London with Teru and Akane since yk Teru is terrible at cooking. Or with Ghost Hotel Kou and Nene (not in a ship way tho)

• The Ballad Of Jane Doe from Ride the Cyclone loosely makes me think of Katakuri bcuz of the whole deal with the kannagi losing their memories

• In the Same Boat from the Lightning Thief demo with any of the trios tbh, mainly the Broadcasting Crew because Sakuhiko fit the Percabeth dynamic so well and Tsukasa as Grover is just yes (in the context of this song specifically lol). For the others tho it would be Terukane as Percabeth and Aoi as Grover, then HanaKou as Percabeth and Nene as Grover…or HanaNene as Percabeth and Kou as Grover. Another one with lots of options

• Red And Black from Les Misérables with Teru and Akane bcuz of the whole Enjolras caring abt war and Marius being all head-in-the-clouds about Cosette…very Akane coded in general

• Meet the Plastics from Mean Girls with Teru as Regina, Akane as Gretchen, and Aoi as Karen

• On that same note, WORLD BURN WITH TERU. HEAR ME OUT.

• I want to bring up Spring Awakening just to bring up Spring Awakening tbh so Don’t Do Sadness/Blue Wind with Aoi and Akane (?) or Teru maybe. Tbh I’m struggling on who could do Ilse’s part but Aoi fits Moritz (my boyyyyy) very well with how she wants to “go somewhere far away” aka take her own life due to the pressure she’s under. Could also be with Mitsuba or Amane as Moritz but NOT Kou because we all know Kou isn’t actively suicidal right?? We’re all on the same page abt that?? Good

• I could also picture Those You’ve Known with Kou and his dead ghost friends at the end of the manga. Specifically Hanako as Moritz and Nene as Wendla but you could substitute either of them for Mitsuba if you want

• I feel like Wait For It from Hamilton could fit Tsuchigomori

• No Me Diga from In the Heights makes me think of Aoi and Nene and their rumors. Bonus points if Akane is the one Nene teases Aoi about with the “just wanted to see what you’d say” part

• Mister Cellophane from Chicago with Mitsuba

• Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again from Phantom Of The Opera with Teru mourning his mom…we don’t really get to see him talk abt her in canon so it’s a cool concept

• More with Teru, I’m Not That Girl from Wicked. I’m thinking within the context of TeruAoi but feel free to apply it to Terukane

• When He Sees Me from Waitress with AoiAoi or Mitsukou…Aoi and Mitsuba singing ofc

• I’m Breaking Down with Aoi during the Confession Tree chapter when Akane started dating Lemon

Okay I’m capping myself off there, hope you liked this!! And thank you for the ask :)