#i was never allowed to have a voice or argue growing up so i kinda used arguing w strangers online as a release to feel like i could finall

[tittyinfinity]

constantly being in online arguments absolutely affects your mood and how you treat people in real life

being under that level of stress and agitation that often is extremely unhealthy. if you're constantly seeking out arguments, it most likely means you're trying to distract from stressors in your life with other stressors that are easier to control.

I'm not saying never stand up for yourself or argue with people at all, just don't make discourse the primary way you use the internet.

[evilminji]

Broadway :3c

And I hear ya. (Insert spooky joke here) There is a sprawling WEB of central hubs, for The Arts. For trade. For getting drunk and having a good time. The Zone is large and it is endless. You'll NEVER reach the far end. It can never reach you.

All things, in gentle sweeping waves, across eternity.

So when folks want to have "a market" or "a movie theater" or "the waterpark"? You gotta PICK a point on the endless map. Figure if you are close or far enough away for others like it, to make it worth the effort to build.

You might even be the first to do it for GALAXIES in any direction! People might fly for WEEKS to come to your place! Move their Lairs to be closer too it. Like dust gathered by gravity, slowly creating planets and stars. A mega Lair. A CITY.

They rise, they fall, the Zone shifts all the while.

But!

Does the dead starlet stop singing? Does getting gunned down, stop the show?? I think NOT! Where is her STAGE? What musicals? What dramas? What operas and tragedies and forms unknown to human kind??! Ballet dancers who CAN defy gravity! Singers who have no NEED for air! The haunting blend of instruments, that could never in life have met! From empires long turned to ASH!

The greatest show in DEATH!

Ember was a world wide hit. Yes, her voice was hypnotic. But that could be FOUGHT. It was SKILL that carried the game. And she was hardly "I was Literally The Greatest My Planet Ever Produced" skilled. She was good, great even. Not "I was Born For Greatness" Excellence.

And like?

.....eventually? Danny's gonna ask after "cultural-y" Culture stuff. Clothes and food. Music and the arts. To help his parents get used to the whole "our son is half-dead" thing. To show he's not some mindless monster now.

And? Ghostwriter? Probably an absolute legend. Does he know where you can find some CULTURE? Oh THANK ZONE! He thought you'd NEVER ask! You unsophisticated-! *fist fight in a library* Still a dick, though. Always and forever.

And just? Imagine Broadway stretched out into a floating city. That never sleeps. Never stops. Shows ever changing. Some on a cycle, some only once. Dream-like. Beautiful. Eye catching.

And yeah, Danny didn't think he LIKED musicals. It was more of a Jazz thing. But? This was important! Gotta get the whole family in the Speeder. We're going to see a play, guys! We'll pick when we get there! Family road trip! Educational! We can make notes!

His parents are trying to be supportive. Big, fixed, strained grins. Trying to pretend to be excited. But they... DO seem reluctantly intrigued? And Jazz is all but vibrating in her seat. It's basically her "before you go away to college" present. And she is THRILLED.

The longer she excitedly speculates? The more into it she gets their folks. This IS gonna be new! Exciting! Never before seen Ghost Culture! Music! As a FAMILY! Think we could find souvenirs? Ooooh, wonder if they sell CDs??!

Then? They GET there. And it's... it's like seeing the Las Vegas strip for the first time, except multiplied into a city. Made of even MORE styles and eras. At angles gravity would never allow.

The air filled with laughter and excitement, people rushing to shows or humming bits of tunes. Street stalls. Fountains. Flowers growing everywhere.

They could stay for months and not even reach a fraction of these buildings. His parents are taking countless photos. His sister squeeling with joy as she races for an information kiosk like they just arrived at Disneyland. He, at least, remembers to lock up the Speeder. Grab their day bags.

When did HE become the responsible one?

The argue over shows. Obviously. Wouldn't be Fenton's otherwise. HE wants to see the alien one. It's from mars! But it's his sister's trip, as his dad points out, so she gets to choose. She picks a musical set during the Fall of Krpton. He's... reluctantly kinda interested. I mean, EVERYBODY likes Superman, right?

It's... it's amazing. Terrible, but amazing. I mean? A coming of age story cut tragically short? Oof. Hello, massively projecting then getting FEELS about it! Yeah, sure, rip my heart out why don't you? He's fine. No, really! Just drowning in his own emotions over here. The refrain of "A Life Well Lived"? *gargling dying whale noises* he's FINE. Not grappling with anything! Go on without him!

Thankfully?

They DO sell CDs.

He... he may end up, kinda, getting a bit of a collection. Going on the weekends, hoping show to show. Wandering to whichever catches his eye in the moment. Buying the CDs for one's he likes. Which? Honestly is a lot of them. Even though there's all sorts of genres and languages. Cause it... it RESONATES you know?

The grief. The anger. The "I have died but I wasn't FINISHED. It isn't FAIR.". And? Something about ghost speak flows so BEAUTIFULLY in song? It's hard to explain. But he... he needs them.

A pair of headphones, a CD, and a clear night sky? Nothing touches it. It's like a trance made of light. Like he can just drift.

The problem? Is the CDs are kinda... Zone made? They're radioactive, for one. Nothing a Fenton CD player can't handle. But... they? Also? Kinda fuckin GLOW? Like... very, very noticeably. And not in a "ha ha, cool glow in the dark paint!" Sorta way.

.........but like FUCK is he leaving his music behind when he goes to college. Gotham will have to deal. It's already a burning shit-nado, it can handle this. Probably. He'll put um in a lead lined box. Actually, speaking OF.... he needs to get a few more of those... *goes back to packing*

Which? Is how? The Bats are treated to some of the most HAUNTING music they've ever heard, belted and crooned from Some Guy's speakers, out an open window, on the "stop for a mid-patrol drink of water and a snack" building. It's one of the intersections of their patrol routes. And THAT? That is some dude listening to a Romani ballad about death and the circus. Now it's a musical about the trenches of an obscure war.

Okay, that was DEFINITELY Kryptonian. Like... coherent Krypto- *Bruce gets a call from Clark on his "work" number DEMANDING to know where that is coming from. Who is that voice Bruce?!* huh.... Well Then.

@hdgnj @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @spidori @mutable-manifestation @the-witchhunter

[starry-eyed-steve]

Some of you are really pissing me off, especially on twitter.

Maya never said Robin shouldn't get a gf, she voiced her concerns that Robin getting a gf would be the center of her character, and she's right to be worried.

Stranger Things branded itself as a show where friendships are the most important thing. However, over the years in the show and fandom, romantic relationships are mostly at the focus.

Jonathan, as soon as he started to date Nancy never saw an independent character arc until s4 where he wasn't with her. His character is simply a sidekick to Nancy. He doesn't grow, and his arc is mostly about Jancy. Like his struggles of being financially not well off or taking care of Will and his mom are swept under the rug. The major conflict in s3 was more about Nancy and how unsupportive Jonathan was as a boyfriend, instead of commenting on his social status and problems.

Steve, as soon as he was around Nancy again, ditched everything else. His relationships, which he created throughout the seasons, were tossed out the window. Even his scenes with Robin were suddenly all about love or Stancy. It's so tiresome because his character thrives the most when he's with Robin and the kids. There is no real balance for his character, which is upsetting. So I get some complaints about Robin being a cheerleader for a straight relationship (which was so ooc s3 Robin would never) instead of focusing on her character outside of romance in s4. The Duffers have simply no idea how to write relationships, platonic or romantic, at this point. Which again is exactly what Maya is concerned about, that Robin's platonic relationship with Steve will suffer even more because either of Robin prioritizing her romantic relationship, or Steve prioritizes his relationship over friendship. (Or both and they simply forget about each other)

Nancy, despite what the fandom says, is the least affected by those relationships, at least in the show. She has the most agency and always gets her plot outside of romance, and she is not as defined by her relationships as her romantic partners are (in the show). She's known as the investigator who is super smart and badass. However, she is still not allowed to have friends, besides the two that were mentioned in s2. Her romantic partners will become the most important people in her life. I kinda liked her friendship with Robin, but the fandom took it and made it into a romance, proving again that romantic relationships are the center of characters or are seen as more valuable and meaningful.

In s3, Mike's character was focused around El. He barely had time with his friends. El only gained another friend after temporarily breaking up with Mike. And again, in the beginning of s4, it's all about her romance, not so much how she misses her friends. Did she even write letters to Max and the party?

With Will, it's complicated. He's a gay kid discovering his sexuality and trying to live with that, so it's understandable that his arc is about romance/love. However, he also got majorly sidelined after s2, like does he have anything else going on besides that? What about discussing his trauma or focusing on other relationships besides Mike. Like I would have loved seeing him actively bond with El or hang out with Dustin (we never get to see them together)

Dustin has an independent story arc each season because his girlfriend isn't there with him, which allows him to have outside relationships and interests.

Lumax is the only couple that has some balance, like they are together, but the relationship doesn't define them like other characters. Both Lucas and Max make time for their friends and talk about other stuff. I would still argue that Lucas definitely deserves more character development and a more independent arc from Lumax. His struggles as a black kid often get sidelined in favor of the romantic plot.

So yes, Maya's fear that the show would make Robin ditch everything for romance is valid because it's happening all the time, especially to the teens! For example, even if the show develops the friendship between Nancy and Robin, the fandom would make it romantic. Like people cry as to why Maya can't promote the friendship between Nancy and Robin, when the majority of the fandom doesn't view it as platonic, and Maya knows that as well. Sidenote: It's also super annoying that as soon as a lesbian character hangs out with another girl, she automatically has to like her romantically, especially if she shows romantic interest in another character. (I have so many problems with Ronance, but that's not the point rn).

I don't want to see any Vickie slander either. The argument that this relationship is rushed or bad rep because it's more in the background is stupid. On the one hand people complain all the time that the cast is too big but when characters only get a few minutes of screentime to act as a love interest for a minor main character like Robin, it's also wrong. Plus, I literally don't want to hear that Vickie isn't much developed when people had no problems shipping Will with Gareth, who had just as much screentime if not less, and they never even met. You never gave Vickie a chance because she's a bisexual girl who shows interest in a sapphic relationship. Why are the standards so impossible high for lesbian/sapphic relationships? A dude literally has to look at one of the guys or be remotely cute and bam, the fandom comes up with thousands of headcanons.

Lastly, I don't want to see any Stobin or Steve slander. Steve is the first person to celebrate when Robin gets with Vickie, so Stobin is not the problem when it comes to Rovickie. A lot of people complain that Robin's character is all about Steve, and I sincerely think those people probably never had a best friend. Like my bff and I were super inseparable during our teen years, people legitimately thought we were either siblings or dating lmao, like my grandma asked if I was a lesbian because all I did was hang out with girls, esp my bff. If Steve isn't allowed to be happy for Robin's romantic relationships or isn't allowed to give her any advice in that department (and vice versa), are they really bffs? If you're not at least a little bit invested in your friendships with others, how can you even call yourself their friend? Robin caring about Steve, hanging out with Steve, literally wanting to combine with him, is just her having found a person that understands her. It's not making a lesbian character all about a guy (that's particularly the take when it comes to the ronance ship as Steve has history with both characters). I saw some takes that Steve is the only one benefiting from Stobin, as if Robin never gains anything from that relationship. Like Steve makes her comfortable, to a point she told him her biggest secret. He can handle her rants, he drives her around, and he listens to every problem because Robin can be fully herself around him. They are both gossiping and having fun, and most importantly, they understand each other because they share the trauma of being tortured in a Russian bunker like I need you all to get a grip quickly. Robin would hate a lot of you for shitting on Steve because that's her bestie if you like it or not. I'm also all for aro-ace lesbian representation. If you think a character is less gay because they focus on friendships or don't have a desire to date, that's a you problem.

But again, Maya never said Robin shouldn't date. The show simply shouldn't lose sight of the platonic relationships as well.

I also want to add that Stranger Things as a show in general would not suffer so much in both the romantic relationship and the platonic relationship department if they would give us more episodes. The main characters don't have a chance to branch out and meet others because of limited time. So when one of them gets a love interest, it's perceived as rushed because we are on a time crunch (especially if it's for Robin bc people wouldn't throw such a fit if Steve gets a gf last episode). And as I mentioned earlier, people already don't like the huge cast, so it's hard to add new characters with depth. So we are forced to have all the characters cross date/befriend, which also removes conflict in general because we don't have options and the fandom is mostly all about everyone gets along and everything is fine and dandy. Because be for real most of the teen characters in the main cast wouldn't be friends given their drama and history with each other. If we had 20 episodes, everything would be better, I guarantee you.

(In general, I want to say I'm not a fan of most ships in the show or fandom, and I think a lot of them would be better as friends even if I'm skeptical that they would genuinely get along after everything. Especially the teens don't have many strong friendship bonds and could benefit from forming platonic relationships over romantic ones. The only ships I truly respect are Lumax, Byler (if done right), Rovickie, Jancy if they get it together, and Jopper.)

[thesoulesscollection]

Oooooo Soulless!!! Tell us more about Choc, Carol and Reginald! The people want to know!📸📸🗣🎤📷📸

Thank you for this lovely question. 😌🤲. I'm currently rotting my brain with Choc anyways so I've been wanting to do this. Also, thank you personally for allowing me to ramble and sorry this took me a while. I'm like mentally all over the place. 

Now they're growing on me now, as an odd couple dynamic I'm starting to love. This is kinda an Au I'm playing with since the ship is slowly growing on me. Hope this is what you asked for and it's enjoyable to read. 

The three are in a polycule. Kinda hard to explain here what they got together. Kinda somewhere in the queer spectrum 

Carol and Reginald were already in an existing, established relationship for some time prior. Where Choc was introduced way later on into it by Carol, smitten with him, “He makes me laugh” A line she uses to explain it. 

Reginald was hesitant to bring the man into their relationship, the two of them have a close bond and so he had felt out of place when the idea came across. 

^ I like to think that Choc & Reginald have an antagonistic, rivalry sort of  relationship. They get on each other like oil and water. Nearly always at each other's throats.

^ Understandably wary, it took quite some time for Reginald to really get at ease around Choc and was aloof with the man. (Choc appears to be more than he seems) 

^ Similar to an old married couple arguing but add onto some vicious snarkiness into the mix like you wouldn't believe. Unfortunately Carol has to act as the middleman between the two with the last brain cell.

Whereas Choc gets along surprisingly well with Carol who does enjoy that he can make her smile and the day a lot brighter so easily. 

Choc enjoys gifting the pair incredibly corny shirts with cheesy images or sayings that he gets from somewhere, he doesn't say. Carol loves them but Reginald cringes from it. Says it's not in his style, Choc thinks it's him being a finicky, prissy hardass

Whenever Reginald is busy at work or flying the airship, Choc is throwing out a pun/joke to pass the time. Nonstop chattering on his end, some jokes at the chief's aggravated expense

Out of the three, Choc is the type to initiate more intimacy and affection, while also taking stuff that belongs to them since it reminds him of the other two. 

Now onto a short one shot of the three together. It's simple and not the best but hey, I liked it. This is my first time actually writing Choc so you'll get to see him in more depth;

***

Reginald so desperately wanted to bash his face into the wheel of the airship but he resists the temptation. 

He never seems to shut up, he keeps going and going on, his voice projects loudly in the spacious area. His highly infectious laughter rings in the chief's ears. 

“Hey, chief. May I say something? I'm really worried about the airship’s well-being” Choc said, a toothy smile on his face, gold fangs out on display. The chief in question, eyes squarely up ahead, his only response, a tired grunt as the man shrugged, continued. “With the bright light from the sun reflecting off your forehead, aren't you worried as I am that it'll blind someone?” 

Suddenly, Reginald hears the chuckles by the other members in the room range from muffled and polite to outright and proud. He is shaking, tightening his hold on the wheel. Whatever Carol sees in the candy maker is beyond him. 

“What? I'm genuinely concerned here. Can't I be that now? Getting worse by each passing day. Can see my own reflection” As the joke is made worse, Choc leaned in, in playful mockery, checking himself out. 

“Kinsley. I am trying to fly. So please. Not at this precise moment do I want to do this with you” 

Choc hovers above him then stands, a smirk stretches the lengthy scars on his sun kissed face, “It's alright, Reg. It's a joke. C'mon now laugh with us” He laughs, roughly patting the chief's tense shoulder, “It's quite alright that you're so follically impaired” 

Another rumble in the room gave Reginald a stronger desire to hit something. However, in his fortune, his eyes flicker over to the corner of the room and sees Carol standing next to the door. She is smiling stiffly it seems, not laughing which Reginald is so relieved for inside and soon she's by them, tugging at Choc's sleeve to get his attention. 

“Choc. C'mon. Let him be,” She calmly states to the man, who in the good forethought nods and goes with her. “I need you for something anyways so come” Her hand is outstretched for him to take and he does, not before he takes a curious glance behind, catches the Chief's eyes. The expression on the candy maker's face is unreadable and Reginald couldn't stand it.

“Thank you” Reginald whispers, barely loud that only he knew Carol can hear him. She hums. 

How he's going to get along with that joke of a man, he doesn't know. 

[littledollll]

🕊️

My darling I’ve been stalking and I must confess I need more lucifer x reader with dream content so here’s my suggestion

Prompt~ r is dreaming and dream is with then cause they are sad. R feels like a burden to luci and just wants them to know how truly special they are, but in their little state they can’t seem to find the words. So dream comforts them and suggests r draws lulu a picture.

R wakes up and instantly scurries off to her old room and draws the picture and gives it to luci. all cute fluffy goodness to end~ shy anon🕊️

#shyanon🕊️

Little artist (pt 1/2)

(Little angel universe, side shot)

Morpheus x little!angel!reader

Lucifer x little!angel!reader

A/n: i decided to make this a two parter bc the dreaming part was originally supposed to be a lot smaller, ya boy got excited at the chance of writing for Morpheus, Reader is mostly big in this fic and it’s honestly just fluffy conversation between two good friends, I like how it kinda gives backstory on the relationship Morpheus and R had/have

Warnings: none really, r gets judged for being little in the very beginning and maybe insecurities and overthinking?

Read part two

Dreaming, you noted when you “woke up” missing the warmth of Lucifer wrapped around you.

“You’re still carrying around a stuffed animal? What are you 4? Grow up, you’re so weird.” A voice you recognized, you couldn’t pinpoint who exactly it belonged to but they used to be your “friends” when you still lived in the silver city.

People wouldn’t believe how mean and cruel angels can truly be, they were no better than humans, perhaps even worse.

“At first it was cute but now it’s an every day thing. I can’t deal with this anymore it’s annoying and it’s weird.” A different voice. Your very first caregiver. Slowly you realized your setting, you were back in heaven, and it was more of a playback of memories than a dream.

Your mind ran rampant with insecurities and doubts. What if Lucifer felt that way about you? You never stopped to think about it much since they offered to be your caregiver. But you did kinda push the responsibility what other options did they have? you questioned yourself.

“I never did like him.” Morpheus’ voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“Must you be so dramatic? Do you enjoy plaguing me with nightmares before announcing yourself?” You argued. The scene faded into a new view, fiddlers green. Walking over to a tree you sat under it, Morpheus followed.

It immediately made you smile, your defenses going down as you felt calm. You really did love this place. It was safe and comforting. Most of the time when you regressed in the dreaming it would be here, that tiny feeling running through your bones as you replayed your lovely memories.

“I’m only opening a conversation, giving you a chance to talk, I don’t recreate memories as dreams, little star, that’s all you. You’re worried. Yet when they sleep, they dream of you.” Morpheus always knew just what to say. Maybe it’s because he’s been by you for so many years, probably because he’s been here since time began.

“me?” You laid your head on his lap and hummed happily once Morpheus started petting your hair. You needed to know, maybe it would finally reassure you enough to make the anxious thoughts stop.

Ever the ominous being Morpheus ignored your question and answered with his own. “You’re worried, about what, little star?”

You threw a rock his way with no real intent to hurt him, not that you could, he caught it anyways. “’s like you want me to slip.” The way he was talking to you was intentional, and the petname was a dead giveaway.

“I’ve been replaced, are you blaming me for missing it? And if you want to, allow yourself” His smile told that his words held no real offense, yet you felt the need to reassure him. “There’s nothing stopping you from seeing me, just like you are now.”

Nodding, he countered. “I’m not really needed am I?” His flash of innocent jealousy made you giggle. “I’d miss you, visit me anyways.”

You closed your eyes. Drinking in the familiar peace of the dreaming, you would’ve drifted off had you not already been asleep and quietly, confessed your concerns. “I’m too much, they have so many things to take care of and ’m jus adding more n I feel-” You hated talking about your feelings. You couldn’t go two words without feeling like you’re going to cry or slip, probably both.

He listened intently, he always does, he allowed you space to continue though you seemed against it. “You are not a burden, little star, it has been a great pleasure to take care of you and you can rest assured knowing they think the same.”

you gave him a little hum in question. “In every dream and nightmare, their greatest joy is you and biggest fear is loosing you, never have I seen this in Lucifer, little star.”

If the look on your face said anything you were overjoyed hearing this. “realy realy?” Morpheus was starting to wonder when you’d fully slip, finally. He gave you a nod and you sprung up hugging him tightly. “Hm..”

“What’s on your mind, little dreamer?” you took a moment to organize your thoughts. “wana tells how much I lovs n n preciate!”

“But you don’t know how to tell them?” you nodded. “Well you’re quite the little artist, what about you draw something for them and give it as a surprise?” Your face lit up in excitement.

“Thanks you! Star wakes up?” He tilted his head at you, already? “wana wakes before n make gift!” You stated like it was the most obvious thing ever, of course this was a priority, what else would Luci wake up to?

“Very well tiny star, until I invade your dreams again then.”

(Part 1/2) part two

[jiminsass-istant]

Gushing about BTS randomly (and rightfully)

Just watched the boracity magazine new upload. This one:

I kinda wished she would have dived deeper. But it just seemed like she was trying to convince people. Still, a good video, made some good points.

That's why I want to add some things-

BTS have proved the quality of music from the very start. While other kpop groups were formed by 'alloting' skills to members, bighit in 2011 was holding a friggin rap competition, hiphop battle style! Participants were teens who had written their own material, sometimes their own beats.

Not just authenticity of their roots, but also top tier music production. There are a lot of brave people who claim that bts music went into downfall after 2017/18. But say this to a music producer and they'll laugh in your face. Because BTS has constantly pushed boundries, bringing in foreign producers, keeping up with hiphop trends and constantly getting better with each release. Let's talk about BE album, shall we? "Dis-ease"? "Fly to my room?" "Telepathy"? Not a single song in this world that sounds like them. Levels of production and composition that kpop will take a decade to catch up to. And let's talk about "run bts", "for youth" and "yet to come". 3 bangers in their latest album. Hell, Run bts was even a viral tiktok trend. They have never once compromised or let me down with their releases.

Bts have collabs with artists like Anderson Pak. Name 1 kpop group who can pull this off?

Depth of lyrics, depth of concept, effort of production, added with willingness to perfect their performances. It will take a kpop group years to catch up to this level. And it's not possible unless their label allows them to write and compose their own songs, find the right audience and be authentic.

Kpoppies argue that bts fans don't want to explore other groups and somehow other groups have better songs? Gurrlll(gender neutral) please. I have infact heard most of bts contemporaries and even 2023 releases. Most music is just...trash? There are 1 or 2 songs from few other groups that are worth putting in my playlist but not their entire discography because they keep missing the mark.

Now let's talk about vocals shall we? While there are plenty of talented vocalists in kpop, they are not versatile. Everytime these vocalists do high notes they end up sounding like Korean ballads 😫. Can they try singing differently for once? Not to mention the forgettable voices and almost similar vocal textures in the entire group? Bts is the only group that gives 4 entirely different voices, versatility as well as wise distribution of lines. All 4 of them use their strengths and perform live. Even though 2 of them were not even singers to begin with, they have still managed to tremendously grow over the years.

So, no i won't be getting into other kpop groups because they don't hold my interest. If i like a song, I'll add it to my playlist. Let me know when they write their own song and have a completely unique concept THAT IS NOT JUST A VISUAL CONCEPT and a completely well produced album with effort put into each song.

[mnxxxie]

Bnha characters favorite portals songs <3

Includes: bakugou, kaminari, todoroki, Kirishima, midoriya, Mina, and tamaki

♡Bakugou♡

‘DEATH’ (JK LMAOO💀)

‘PLUTO’

Literally change my mind.

He likes the beat and thinks the lyrics are badass asf.. ofc he won’t admit it.

I mean this song is basically abt Melanie (in this case Katsuki) growing as a person.

His favorite lyrics:

“Pluto destroy me, kill me off slowly. I’ll bathe in my ashes, rise like a phoenix, show me who I am becoming”

“I’m turning to expired routes, help me move on. There’s nothing in this tired town, for me no more. What once was a home is a hell I can’t manage, so send me packin it up.”

The entire beat drop with the last section.

♡ Kaminari♡

‘MOON CYCLE’

The entire reason he loves this song is because of the “yeuAh” at the beginning. He thinks it funny.

Let’s be honest here, he probably has no idea that the song is about periods because.. y’know.. he’s a little bit stupid.

Once he finds out that the song is actually a distrack of Oliver tree, he likes it even more.

He stay an Oliver Tree hater.💀

His favorite lyrics:

“Why you always act so serious? I said ‘baby boy you know I’m on my period’ YUH”

“It’s so scary, how my aura got him howling at my moon cycle baby”

“Now he kissing on the ground that I walk on. Tryna get another taste, but I’m all cramped up. Pain like a blade on the front lawn, but I don’t give a fuck ‘cause I’m so strong.”

“I could win a fight on my period. Matter of fact, right now I could built a pyramid. You’re messing with my cycle that is dangerous”

♡ Todoroki♡

‘BATTLE OF THE LARYNX’

He likes Melanie’s clever use of the word “Larynx”. Since a Larynx is basically the human voice box, allowing you to speak, or in Melanie’s case, argue, it goes along well with the theme of her album because a Larynx (for people who don’t know the meaning) sounds like some sort of mythical creature.

Reminds him with his relationship with his father a little bit.

Likes the instrumentals.

He also thinks the transition between LEECHES to BATTLE OF THE LARYNX was pretty cool and very smooth.

His favorite lyrics:

“You used all your words for a quick game, blew it all before you won”

“Poke me to battle, I’ll jump on the saddle, I’ll smile as you fall to your feet”

“And they talk without thinkin’, they bark while they’re shaking, with teeth that are round and dull. And they yell while they’re chasing, while I’m steady pacing. My syllables hit the floor.”

“I’ll reck you, if you chase me. But I’ll be silent until you cross the line. . . Don’t you battle with my larynx tonight”

♡ Kirishima♡

‘THE CONTORTIONIST’

Idk this song kinda reminds him of his quirk in a way? He can’t really explain how.

The bone crunching is satisfying to him …

She thinks Melanie is very manly overall.

Admires Melanie Martinez for her unique style and her ability to simply not give a fuck.

His favorite lyrics:

The snap in the beginning

“I don’t wanna bruise for you, holding back my words until my face is blue *GASP*”

“I’m done. I’m done. Done doing back bends, I break and I snap, it’s no fun. No fun. Push myself into a box while you held out a gun. IM DONE”

“OouAHA HA HA ha heh HAH..!”

“Got me like a bad tattoo (oh-oh-oh) always under skin even when it gets removed (ooh) never got a chance to undo (oh-oh-oh) positions that you forced my way into.”

The bones crunching in unison at the end slaps

♡ Midorya♡

‘VOID’

He kind of relates to this song.

He secretly feels as if he actually isn’t up to being the #1 hero and tears himself down for it.

The lyrics remind him of the way he was treated for not having a quirk back in middle school.

‘VOID’ reminds him that he isn’t the only one who feels the way he does and it motivates him to work harder.

He listens to this song while training.

His favorite lyrics:

“It’s tasting kind of lonely, and my mind wants to control me.”

“Eh-eh-eh-empty. There’s rotten things left in me. Injected by society. No one here but me to judge me.”

“Pipe down with the noise I cannot bear my sorrow. I hate who I was before. I fear I won’t live to see the day tomorrow, someone tell me if this is hell.”

“My eyes are staring at me, and they seem so damn unhappy.”

“Ca-ca-ca-collect. My fickle insecurities. And turn hem into beauty. alchemize the dark within me-e”

♡ Mina♡

‘MILK OF THE SIREN’

She was a little skeptical at first ‘cause it kinda sounded like a title for an X video.. (iykwim..)

After the first beat drop though she was hooked.

LET THEM DROWNNNN!!

Female empowerment all the way. This song hypes her up so much.

Also she love love LOVES songs with the creepy vibe, it’s safe to say Melanie Martinez was her favorite artist after this.

Her favorite lyrics:

“Drink from the leche of the sirens, summon the sailors in town. Strangle their fear of deciding. Which ones deserving to drown”

Every beat drop that goes “DUH DUH DUH DUH DUH DUH “DROWNNNN”

“All of our sisters were killed and abused, by sword swinging men who would always accuse”

“The worst of a woman, who fights for our right, to be where we belong at the front of the line. Tired of silence and being polite, your legs turn to shimmering scales in the night.”

“LET THEM DROWNNN .. (DROWNNN) LET THEM DROWN! (DROWN) LET THEM DROWNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!”

The end sequence that goes “nothing wrong with a little havoc. It’s fun when shit hits the fan. So guillotine their heads by shouting, cut them off, leave waters red.”

And ofc the signature “don’t feel bad when these fuckers all drown”

♡ Tamaki ♡

‘LIGHT SHOWER’

He thinks the song is sweet and lowkey reminds him of Mirio.. *cough* totally not shipping..

(If this is a universe where y/n is in it, and they’re his s/o, then he’d 100% want to slow dance to this song with them..<3)

The shower/water sound effects are soothing to him and it puts him in a better, more positive mood.

His favorite lyrics:

“You are the light I’ve been searching for for ever, feels like man I’ve really never felt the rain.”

“But you, make me want to plan out my last days on earth eating you. Ohh the tips of your teeth fit perfect in me. you’re the shower of light I’d devour any day of the week. Baby cleanse me.”

“I was surprised to see heaven in your eyes. I never once was treated right. You’re what I’m missing in my life. As bright as the sun, give you your vitamin D. Let’s run, into another dimension. You make me feel like I’m on drugs.”

I might make a pt.2? 👀 (not proofread……)

I’m obsessed with this album… can you tell?

[x-other-souled-x]

I'm a little afraid to say this but tulpamancy helped me immensely as a traumagenic system.

When we started showing signs of plurality we weren't exactly scared but we did get freaked out, because we weren't "supposed" to be plural. In our head that was only for people who had parents who never even pretended to love them and had the world's worst thrown at them at all times. The more I learned about trauma and how it affects people and how trauma actually happens, it opened up a world of understanding just how traumatized we were but having pushed it down under the "it could have been worse so stop crying" bc again we were taught young that "real trauma" was getting beat daily, starved, and sexually abused constantly. Obviously since growing and learning we no longer beleive that, but it was a mindset we were in.

Even after accepting our traumatic past we still denied our plurality, and it hurt us, really bad, this denial is what I blame for many barriers we ended up having to learn to remove. Our denial still came from the beleif that our trauma wasn't bad enough, and also the way we had to constantly downplay everything bad, weird or even anything not ""normal"" in the eyes of our mother, which has several times now led to us denying symptoms of other issues we have (adhd and bpd) because "I'm not special or anything, why would have any kind of thing going on, thats for people cooler than me." Which don't get me wrong is an absolutely wild thing to beleive but listen it was the excuse we made for years to deny anything negitive about our lives. We aren't allowed to be weird or different or angry or sad.

Anyway discovering tulpamancy in like 2014 or something like that was crazy, and before that we looked into daemonism (the particular forum we found was really strict about forms having a specific meaning and that you should do a bunch of tests and deep introspection bc if you got your animal wrong it was a cardinal sin, so that scared us off of that quickly)

It took a long time to get the tulpamancy thing going, every time we would start to hear a voice speaking, it was shoved back down. It's like we got scared even though we desperately wanted to make a tulpa (for reasons I have no idea, it felt like we HAD to). And i mean years, it wasn't until 2020 that we finally got to ""keep"" a tulpa. and honestly I wonder if those fragments of tulpas that got shoved away are still there or I'd they're completely gone now. I kinda hope the latter since I don't wanna face that. But anyway.

The main host at that time isn't really active anymore, and I'm tired of referring to a vague "we" for this part. So they ended up talking to this tulpa a lot but any time it went on for a decent ammount of time with no real issues in communication, they would start to doubt the tulpa was real and the tulpa would of course argue back and then disappear for a while. To me it seems like a fight between a parent and a child where the child eventually goes to their room and slams the door shut and refuses to come out or talk. Except it would be for months at a time that the tulpa would go quiet. And then eventually the tulpa would come back and although still angry that their existence was questioned and denied by the one who created them, still came back to prove they were indeed real and made their own choices.

Thanks to him, the tulpa, it helped us all slowly break the barriers of doubt, we began recording things, or rather the tulpa did. He kinda became like a sort of observer who was obsessed with making sure everything going on was documented so we could clearly see patterns later on. I really appreciate him, and everyone here does too, because he was right, seeing those patterns really helped deal with te doubt.

So in a way, projecting our doubt onto a tulpa who then got so angry about that he then decided to make sure it never happened again in our system, that helped us so much. We never ended up making more tulpas, not intentionally anyway, and it's questionable wether new members who form are forming in an accidental tulpa way or in an inherent system splitting way so we really havnt gotten to the point we can look at that objectively since we still have things we need to work out and understand better...

[nimbus-cloud-90]

Alrighty good chaps: here we go again!

Disclaimer and important things: There are two characters I do not own and their Agni and Bella. Those characters belong to @computerglitch306 and @shadie-cat , I'm just trying to create something cool with 'em.

——————————

Chapter Four:

Some Allies Would Be Nice.

When I stopped bawling my eyes out, me and my godly helper raided the store, although not without dragging me along as we ventured further into the dark and damp store. Even as we walked outside I could still feel the moss growing on the store floors beneath me.

“Hey, I’ve gotta split, uh, you know how to summon me, see ya.” The god said and patted my head as he disappeared. I was sad to see him leave but I can’t be dependent on him all the time I suppose. I walked along the cracked sidewalk, the moonlight illuminating the path, blinding me slightly in the process. I take out my map to see where I should go:

This journey you take is no easy task.

But luckily for you, you at least have a map.

Once upon a midnight dreary.

Ask to take a midnoon ferry.

Although don’t say I didn’t warn you about this boat.

No one is allowed to ride without a means for hope.

The fuck kinda map is this?

"A literary map because I think you're smart enough to figure it out."

Now I remember why he pisses me off so much. But unfortunately for me this is the only companion I’ve got. Along the road we walk past Garrison Sanatorium, the only building that seems at least somewhat kept up to date.

On the outside at least.

I start walking towards the building.

"You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me."

"Look I’m pretty sure this is a hospital, and I only have a small bottle of peroxide and tiny Hello Kitty bandaids!"

"What’s in your fucking bags then!"

"MOSTLY FOOD! And I have a gun and ammo."

"If I ever decide to open your bags, and I see they’re empty, I’m going to laugh at you."

"And you’re never going to get that satisfaction, because I packed so much in these bags!"

"Sure, sure, well have fun in the scary hospital!"

I wish he didn’t point that out, because now I’m terrified.

The building, while still relatively well kept, gave me an eerie feeling, with its big ass windows and old England cobblestone pathway. I felt a chill go up my spine as I stared at the statues as their lifeless, grey and stoney eyes stared back at me. They were statues of children, some in wheelchairs, some in crutches, most without, but they were put next to doctors who made my stomach tie in knots. There were dead flowers and overgrown weeds in the yard, but I do not know what insane person would go outside in this for some landscaping. The building was completely made out of marble.

The building looked like an abandoned god temple.

Oh gods the building looked like an abandoned god temple….

I panicked on the inside as my stubborn feet refused to stop moving, so I could turn around and go home. I walked up the FIFTY FUCKING FLIGHTS GODS of stairs, and pushed the silver doors open.

It was really, really dark.

"Well, what did you expect?" I said nothing to my dickhole guide as I pulled out my trusty Dollar Store flashlight. I expected some kind of ruin like: dirty floors, broken windows, leaky ceiling, but it’s very well kept.

There’s even some nice furniture in here!

I then heard the shuffling of feet.

Well, shit- I didn’t even have time to pull out a knife when I saw someone rushing toward me. They pushed me over and my back landed on the floor, the figures mitch-matched eyes staring into my soul. I felt something shock my body.

“OW THAT HURTS!”

“OH FUCK I’M SORRY!” The person suddenly gets off of me and backs off quickly.

“Nile, come on man, I was so close to knocking the guy out!” Another person, a more feminine voice, said.

“NOW I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO BE SORRY ABOUT THANKS A LOT BELLA!”

“Okay, Nile, let’s not point any fingers at anybody. You’ve said some things, I’ve said some things-” Before I let them argue more, I pulled out my gun.

“HANDS UP I’VE GOTTAGUNNOBODYMOVE!!!!” They both raised their hands up, or I think they did they're silhouettes showed me they did.

Shit I hope this thing is loaded.

“What are you doing here, explain yourself!”

“HAVE YOU NOT SEEN OUTSIDE!?!?!” The one that was called Bella said, “IT’S A FUCKIN’ MORGUE OUT THERE!!!!”

“I might’ve noticed.”

I’ve noticed it for the past two years thank you very much.

“Aww, that sucks I hope this ends for everyone too soon, I hope….” The one called Nile said, I think because it’s still dark as shit in here. The tone they had was, although awkward, very sincere and very kind. It was super sweet.

Alright, this one can live, the other person, I haven’t decided yet.

“NILE!!!”

“What?”

“WE ARE BEING HELD AT GUNPOINT RIGHT NOW!!!!”

“Well, this whole thing for them still sucks so my statement is still valid!” They said in a hushed voice.

“You didn’t answer my question!”

“Okay, geez, we were being chased by a thing and had to run in here real quick to recover our stamina.” The Bella voice said.

Shit this story is plausible, okay, I guess they both can live.

I lowered my gun and sighed. I heard shuffling steps behind me and an immediate, “DON’T DO IT AGNI!!!” from both of the people in front of me. Then the shuffling stopped, and I heard a sigh.

WHEN WAS THERE A THIRD PERSON?!??!?

“But they tried to shoot us….”

“They’re just a bit freaked out we’ll be fine. So what bring you in this corner of the town?” It took me a second for me to release Nile was talking to me.

“Um, I’m trying to find some medical supplies.”

"Ha, find."

“YOU SHUT UP IN THERE!!!” I said out loud in front of strangers.

“Who are you talking to?” The Agni person asked.

“Uhhhhhh-”

“Is there a ghost I can’t see in here?” Nile question aloud.

“What?”

“Imagine that, a spirit medium that can’t see ghosts.” Bella said playfully condescending.

"Huh, wait-"

“SHUT UP, I’M STILL A GROWING BOY!!!” Nile said so loudly my hair stood up on end.

And I remembered what happened last time I was in a dark, damp, and spacious room.

“Uh, Nile is it, um we should probably refrain from making as much noise as possible.” I whispered.

“Oh right I forgot, oops.” He whisper shouted and I can hear the shrug the followed that statement. “And yeah, that’s my name. Nile. Nile Bolton.”

“Holy shit that’s cool.” I tried to keep my voice down in case we might garner some attention.

“I know right! Well not everyone agrees unfortchanately—”

“Oh, come on, someone has to know how dorky that name is.”

“I don’t know…it’s pretty cool….” I try and stand up for Nile’s honor.

“Okay nerds, while you’re conversing about Superman and Spiderman, I’M going to find that guy’s supplies for em.” Bella said as I heard footsteps start walking away from us.

“WAIT A MINUTE!!!” Nile shouted, again, and took off after Bella.

“Oh, oh, okay then.” Agni muttered behind me. I wish they’d move so I stop being paranoid that they’re holding a knife behind me, “Didn’t know she’s the leader of the operation.” They whispered to themselves bitterly as we followed the other two.

"Look at you making friends, I’m so proud of you my boy!"

"Look, they probably have other things to do than follow me on this quest."

"Does it look like they have better options?"

I decided to ignore him until I could come up with clever reasoning.

"You're still talking to yourself." Agni muttered.

"I KNOW!!!"

——————————

We found some bandages, rubbing alcohol and some cottonballs, a vending machine that’s now broken and empty, some small blankets, and some asprin!

Any more supply raids and we’ll need more bags to carry it all in. All of the blankets, food, and my now apt sized first aid kit take up most of my duffel bag.

We finally walk out into the daylight, was I in there that long it was at least noon when I walked in here, and I shut my eyes because of the brighest the sun has ever been.

When I opened my eyes again I looked at the people around me.

There was a someone with red hair and dark clothing. A person with dark skin, green hair, green eyes, with round glasses, maybe freckles, with dark jeans, two rings on each finger, and a mint green hoodie. And then the person right beside me immediately entranced me:

They were wearing white fluffy jacket, but also had on a black Green Day tee. They had a spikey choker necklace, and black and white heart piercings in both ears. They had long, wavy blonde hair, and a single brown strand of hair. I seen light freckles on their face, and heterochromic eyes, one green one blue. They had black stained jean pants on and white and black Nike tennis shoes.

I knew for a fact who this person was, not because I knew them prior no, I knew them because I feel the pull, the entracement, and the boldness of said person’s voice that kept attempting to make small talk while searching for medical supplies. The person that stood up for me when everyone else wanted to kill me.

The person standing right beside me was none other than Nile Bolton, and I would never forget that.

“So…..where are we off to next?” NIle asked, he had a smile on his face and a lobster in his hands…..

Oh gods he has a lobster in his hands. HOW DID I NOT NOTICE THIS!?!?!?!

After recovering from the lobster bombshell “Wait you want to go with me?” I asked NIle.

“Yeah, I think it’ll be fun.” He said and smiled more.

“Woah, woah woah, who said we were going with them Nile?” Agni asked in the loudest voice I’ve ever heard from them so far.

“Well, what better things do we have to do Grass Boy?” Bella interjected.

He looked shocked and mildly offended at said Grass Boy comment.

“Come on Agni, what do we really have to lose?” Nile said in an uplifting, but serious tone.

“OKay…fine, I’ll come along I guess.” I heard Nile’s little yay that pierced the depths of my brain, “But if he points a gun at me again, I will stab him.” Agni says without hesitation.

“You know what, that’s fair.” I said as we walked down the fifty fucking flights of steps.

——————————

here's the chapter I've been most excited about you can tell because it's longer than the others.

Well everyone I hope you enjoy this mess and pray that the party doesn't get stabbed on this journey.

@ask-and-i-answer don't think I forgot about you :) you're not getting out of this that easy :)

[cryopathiic-a]

Hands idly fold in his lap as he shifts his weight from one pelvic bone to the other. And it's hard to read, because he wears that smile that's neither here nor there and his relaxed posture affords him more room for ambiguity. It's not the sort of demeanor a child can read. It's hardly something decipherable to the monks with several decades of service to this man on their backs.

He merely blinks before the outburst. But at least now he looks sated. There's none of that nonchalant puzzlement anymore. And it's not necessarily for good; one might argue things would be easier for Inosuke if the demon simply lost interest. Then, there would be one thing to face — and one thing only.

What he's about to throw in that poor kid's face is on a whole other level of cruelty, though. Inosuke's tone is met with a briefly reprimanding glare and then—

❝ Well, I was mostly referring to you. ❞ He admits; or doesn't bother to hide it. Dōma's voice goes from honey to spun sugar. With a childlike note of honesty. ❝ I guess... ❞ His eyes allow the child some reprieve, finding the tatami instead. There are no stains in this room; and that's telling. The average eye will see that and think it's a room that doesn't get used often or that the temple founder is very diligent about cleaning it. If there were stains, that would mean it doesn't get cleaned as often, after all.

❝ I guess... growing up, I never had much of a family. ❞ It's a marvel; how the softest voice can completely shatter the silence. He knows Inosuke doesn't expect that. He doesn't expect for the condemnable monster, the demon that pupeteers his life to refer to something so intimate; he doesn't expect those clawed fingers to fidget or those notorious eyes to crinkle with a pensive expression. Dōma always appears so untouchable, after all. ❝ I had people, mind you, I always had people around in my temple, I had the monks and my acolytes and the girls... I guess... I guess it's just that nobody ever truly knew me. The real me. You know? ❞ He knows. Dōma has made sure that he knows, by isolating him from everyone else and giving him a unique burden to carry all on his own. Something he can't talk to anyone else about. A secret. A secret that unites them and which he is now about to rub in his face as if it's something... good.

❝ Knew my nature... knew who I am, as a person. Not as the Lord Founder. ❞ Oh, it would be easy to tag along and see it as a rare flash of introspection. Especially with the face he's wearing. Almost a little dazed or concerned, as if he, himself, is just being strung along by a flow of words that's beyond his control to spill.

❝ After all this time... you're the first person who knows me. Kinda. ❞ Appealing to the child within this hardened shell of his own making. They both know it; deep down, Inosuke is a soft kid. He's compassionate like his mother. She taught him to be this way and, no matter what the world is pushing him to do, or what Dōma pushes him to do, he idolizes her. Kotoha. That woman whose purity has warranted her continued survival.

Dōma hadn't thought it would bring about as many problems as it has. Such is his disconnect from human emotion. He never thought prolonging one's life could have consequences; because he hasn't managed to maintain one attachment to another person in his century of life. He has failed completely to connect with anyone else. And now he's given a chance to do better; to be honest.

Maybe that was just his only way of doing it. With a side of manipulation.

❝ You're the first person who sees me. And it's funny, because you don't even like me! ❞ His smile grows. His head falls to one side with it. And there's a pause, where he's just staring at Inosuke with that brightly colored gaze. ❝ I've never had anyone dislike me before! It's so weird. Isn't what weird? ❞ He says it with manic glee. But the undertone is grim. ❝ It's so weird, it's like— why don't you like me? What's there not to like about me? Am I not nice? And kind? Have I not taken care of you and helped you? I could hurt the people in here so badly, you know? I could hurt your mommy so bad she'll be pleading for death— but I choose to heal them and feed them and nurture them and use my powers for good. ❞

He bounces in his seat a bit. The grin stretches, wrinkling his eyes.

❝ No, really. What is it that bothers you so much about me? Is it because I eat them? Well, that's just my nature. Is it really that horrible? ❞ He leans closer, cants his head. ❝ I don't understand. Do you also blame the wolf for eating sheep? Sheep have feelings, too, they're still food, though. That's nature. It might not be pretty and it might not favor you in this case, but there's nothing wrong about it. Is it really that bad, when I take such good care of them? And that's what I get for it in return. That's how things work — and it doesn't have to be ugly. Have you ever seen me yell or talk down to them or beat them or any of those other things your daddy used to do to your mommy? No, I don't, I treat them kindly— I treat your mother better than anyone else has treated her before, so, what is it that makes you hate me so much? I don't get it. I'm a nice guy. I'm nice. I even went out of my way to save you from your own stupidity. So when I ask for the simplest things in return, why is it that you can't even do that? ❞

He pauses. And sighs. And the tension falls from his shoulders.

A pregnant pause. And then—

❝ Oof. Woah... you're right, that did feel good to get off my chest. Even though I don't expect you to get it. 'Cause I have lived... well, several times your years. Probably more than... I don't know, ten. ❞ He holds up all his fingers and says it very vividly, so Inosuke would grasp that this is an intimidating and admirable number. Since neither of them excel at Math. ❝ It gets lonely, you know? It gets lonely being a man-eating demon. ❞ Oh, sweet Inosuke. How could he ever hope to see through that lie, when Dōma himself isn't sure if he believes it?

❝ I was thinking, you know, maybe it's time for me to, I don't know, start investing in some company. The monks are nice, don't get me wrong, but they're dreadfully boring. Like, seriously boring. With your mom and you, we have good times the three of us, right? C'mon, you've had fun with me before. So why does it have to be so difficult? Why can't you just... ❞ Do what I want you to do. ❝ ... Ugh, anyway. I guess that wraps up the session. Now you have to tell me what you learned, or, something like that. And we have to hold hands — technically, but we're not doing that. 'Cause I'm going to guess you didn't wash your hands before we started, like I told you. ❞

[thewritingginger]

Happy Halloween, Lovelies!!!

Yes, I am starting and ending Kinktober with Seraphim! I love him okay!?!?!

This is in relation to [THIS] one shot of King Seraphim with Servant Reader What can I say? I’m a sap for them.

Fandom: Blood of Zeus Pairing: King! Seraphim x Fem! Servant Reader Word count: 1.8k+ words Warnings: 18+, Love making, Bath sex, Vaginal fingering, Vaginal penetration, Soft, Kinda sad/bittersweet, Excuse any mistakes

Enjoy ~

The cotton dress that you’re wearing slips down your body to pool around your feet. Stepping out of the loop of fabric you take the few tentative steps it takes to reach the large bath in the middle of the room.

A large pool of water built into the floor of the tiled room, thick steam spirals across the clear surface. The only things occupying the room are the peaceful hums of night life that lives outside the wide open windows, the low glow of candlelight and the large man wading in the water. His eyes are glued to you and your body that slowly submerges further into the water with every advancing step.

The king’s large hands comb back through your dry hair. Directing your gaze up you look into his heterochromic eyes. Your hands reach to rest on his trim waist instinctively, his muscles flex under your gentle touch.

“You came.” Is all he said, his voice a coarse whisper.

You had. Even after you proclaimed that this affair had to cease. That you couldn’t continue the never ending dance of push and pull of never having each other –forever standing on opposite sides of the room.

But as much as your brain advised and tried to convince you it was right, that you were never supposed to be together, your heart always argued back.

You weren’t the only one. Seraphim had let you go but that doesn’t mean he ever took his eyes off you. He knew your wishes and he respected them. Even as a king who could have anything and everything at the snap of a finger, the only thing he wanted was your happiness –even at the expense of his own.

Without a word you took his lips with your own, straining on your toes to reach his height. His hands release your face to wrap his strong arms around your smaller frame, pressing your nakedness against his own. Your softer body sinks into his harder one like a puzzle piece falling into place. As much as you try fighting there is no winning against the gravitational pull you have towards each other.

The sun and his moon.

To everyone else around he is the bright light, the center of everything. But what they don’t know is you’re the true marvel of his world.

You bring the calming night that is filled with breathless whispers and restful sleep. You push and pull at the tides of emotion that make up the ocean in his belly. Eclipsing him each time you cross paths, you shield him from the world and allow him to be more than just a king.

With you, he is merely a man. A man cradling his lover. A man drinking in the sweetness of your muffled moans against his lip as his large hands roam up and down your sides. Cupping your ass he lifts you to wrap your legs around him so your face is level to his.

Your hands tangle in his long wet locks. Squeezing him tightly against you in an effort to fuse your bodies together. Your hips meet his. His growing hardness presses between you. His hand wedges between your heated bodies and begins playing with your folds. Sighing into his mouth you gently rock your hips against his hand. The subtle splashing of water echoes against the walls alongside your soft gasps.

His thick fingers tease your entrance. The heat of the water and your intertwined bodies make it almost hard to breathe. Your nails scrap against his scalp as his manipulating fingers pull you closer to the tantalizing edge of your increasing desire.

“Seraphim, please.” You gasp against his lips, eyes still closed.

Your body is weightless as Seraphim carries you to the edge of the pool. Sitting on the tiled step behind him, you straddling his hips, his hand still works between your thighs. Looking up at you, his eyes never leave your flushed cheeks and your lust heavy eyes. Lips trail wet kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. Your head falls back as a thick finger invades your tight entrance, allowing the man beneath you more space to explore with his mouth.

Curling his digit inside you and inserting another, your hips are urged to grind against his hand. Pulling his head back by his hair you meet his gaze. Open and overflowing with need. Your rose petal lips are parted allowing the soft mewls of your pleasure to seep out. His fingers don’t falter as your core begins to contract around them.

Seraphim’s free hand roams up your torso to cup your breast. Massaging the mound in his palm he rolls his thumb over your hardened nipple making you gasp.

“Give yourself to me. Let me have you. Please you. Love you.” His low melodic voice melts over you, broken up by kisses along your jaw.

“Seraphim.” You whisper like a prayer, pulling his attention from your neck. “Please.”

“Anything, my love. My queen. My Goddess, anything you want it’s yours. Anything.” His words grow in greater excitement as his fingers pick their pace and he abandons your chest to cup the back of your head, pulling you down till your forehead is against his.

He is enraptured by your undoing. Your sweet face contorted in pleasure, jaw slack, a string of gentle moans and choked gasps.

“I need you, Seraphim. Take me.” Your invitation was all he needed to rip his fingers from your core to align his throbbing cock at your entrance. His large calloused hands hold your hips, looking up at your face flushed with anticipation.

Lips parted,  a breathy sigh escapes your lips as he helps you sink onto his girth. He lets out a relieved moan of his own as your body accepts him, stretching around his length to take all that he has to offer you. Your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at his roots when you’re fully sat on his cock.

Pulling his face towards yours you mewl into his mouth as his hands knead the flesh of your waist, massaging your hips and thighs as if he is trying to remember every dip and curve of your legs around him.

You gently rock your hips against his, causing ripples of water to splash over the edge of the bath. His deep groans vibrate against your chest.

“Seraphim.” His name falls from your lips like a prayer as your bodies move as one. His manhood fills you full till almost too much but your body knows his too well. He’s molded your body to fit his. His cock moves perfectly over the deepest parts of you as he hands traverse the same path he’s carved into you so many times before.

His hands worship your body as his lips lay tribute along your heated skin. Every breath, a prayer. Every soft caress, a promise. A devotion to you, to your shared love.

“Take, my love. All I have. Everything that I am —it’s yours.” Your body quivers around his shaft, sending a ripple of pleasure down his spine. Your bodies hum together in harmony as your walls contract with your impending high. Seraphim continues his praising words of you and your giving body. He fills your ears with promises you don’t let yourself believe are empty or impossible. You focus on him and this moment of bliss. Of togetherness.

“Gods above, you’re everything. Stay with me. My life is hollow without this. Without you, My love. My world.”

“Seraphim.” Your nails create crescent shaped imprints on his shoulders. He wedges a hand between your bodies to circle your clitoris, feeling your end drawing near. He coxes you closer to the edge, teasing your hardened bud and urging your hips to grind deeper on his.

“Tell me, Y/n. Tell me you’ll stay with me forever. That you’ll be mine. That you’ll have me.” His desperate words are broken up by moans and bliss-filled sighs.

Your head falls back, songs of praise flow from your lips. Head spinning with pleasure and need —need that far surpasses desire of body. You need him. His voice, his love, his very being. All of him. Like him, you’re as much a prisoner to your forbidden courtship and undeniable love.

“Yes.” You cry, looking down you hold his face to yours. Faces contorted in pleasure and shared longing. “I’m yours, Seraphim. Always and forever.”

Connecting your lips in a frenzied kiss, the two of you cascade into oblivion together. Your chest bursts like a supernova. Your body is racked with pleasure in overwhelming waves. Seraphim’s hands persist in their pursuit of your pleasure, rocking your shaking hips against his –your ass rubs against his tightening sack- as he continues to rub your clitoris. His deep moans vibrate through you and bounce off the walls with your own ecstasy.

“Seraphim, please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Your body grows fatigued with overstimulation. Your high deflates but the man beneath you continues to search for his release in you. Curling your fingers in his hair you pull his face from your shoulder to look at you.

“I need you. Give me everything. All of you -ah- please.” Your words were what he needed to send him over the edge.

With a few more friction filled movements Seraphim spills his seed into your aching core. The heat of his cum rushes through you making you gasp and moan more as you rock against him to milk his balls of everything they have.

Your movements slow to a stop. Breathing together and connected, Seraphim rests his forehead on your shoulder. You lazily comb your fingers through his hair. A few moments pass in comfortable silence before your lover takes your gaze again. His large hands smooth back your hair, water droplets tickle your flushed cheeks.

“I meant what I said.” He didn’t have to say that. His eyes tell you everything you ever need to know. You give him a small bittersweet smile, stroking his cheek.

“I know. I did too.” And you did. Your heart will always be his, forever beating in sync with his.

With no words left to say —there isn’t a word in any language created that can adequately convey the feelings between you– Seraphim pulls your lips to his. It’s soft and slow. Time stops when you explore eachothers mouths. As if the Gods above had taken pity on you, they allow these moments to last a lifetime in a second.

Pulling away, his hands ghosting over every part of you. His eyes caress you. They say ‘I love you.’ and ‘My life is yours.’ and your eyes mirror his.

“Come.” His voice finally breaks the loud silence. “Let’s go to bed.” You don’t argue with him you just simply say,

“Okay.”

Hope you enjoyed that! if you did Feedback & Interaction is always appreciated :)

This is not my last Kinktober post of 2022. I missed two days and those are coming soon!

~ Kinktober Masterlist ~ ~ Blog Masterlist ~

💛 ~

[manjiropie]

Yessssss your request are open thank god 💖🙏😭

I've been thinking for this for a whole night, I swear this so called Haitani Brothers wont leave my mind. So can I request for Haitani brothers x big sister reader who protect them from their abusive father when they are little, and when they're grow up they make it their duty to protect their big sis, simply to say thats the kinda thing they could do to repay her. I just thought that haitani brother have a shitty toxic father, thats why they're so cruel and ruthless. Poor baby 😭

You can make it fluff or angst (pss the big sis ended up dying) anything you prefer it to be. Its also up to you if its gonna be hcs or scenario.

Thank you for letting me request honey boo! Love you and stay safe 💜💖🧡

I thank you for this. I loved writing it and I'm sorry for taking so long to do it. be aware of the warnings, tough topics ahead. lowercase indeed.

warnings: toxic household, physical & non graphic mentions of sexual abuse, violence, death, strong language, gun, child abuse

Until hell freezes over.

man. let me tell you, shit's never been easy in the Haitani household. you want to know why ? well, I'm the firstborn to two stupid and reckless people. my mother left us with our alcoholic daddy as soon as she gave birth to her third child– Rindou. Ran is the middle child, bless him. our father is a complete scum, he's never cared. when mother left, his bottles were his only company and no one else around was important.

I'm three years older than Ran and Rin, nevertheless we were inseparable growing up, like– inseparable.

our dad, like I said, has never showed empathy or 'love' like parents are supposed to. on the contrary, all he gave me were 'lessons'. beatings, to be exact. oh, I didn't cook dinner as he liked it? a punch. hold up, he spent the whole day out pissing himself and the house wasn't shining when he came back? he'd take off his belt. from a very young age I memorized every tiny movement of his and what they meant.

"your body is a masterpiece, you're a painting"

people preach self love out there. I must've been a really good painting growing up, purple and yellow and black bruises all over my body.

I'm a masterpiece of agony and torment.

I went through hell growing up. I was the main target for my father's punishments because I'd refuse to allow him a hand to lay on them. of course I wouldn't reason with my father, I was too scared to do that. instead, I would jump in when I saw him arguing with Rindou because he didn't have the best handwriting or when he'd shout at Ran just because he didn't know where my father's favorite boxes were.

I swore it myself to protect Ran and Rindou until hell freezes over.

"why don't you run away?" that's what my teacher said once when I was on my first year of school. why don't I run away? why didn't I? the opportunities to flee were countless. it'd be undemanding to go by myself and find someone far away that'd melt in pity and would take me in. but I had two younger siblings.

everytime I'd feel scared for my life, I'd run to my room and take Rin and Ran with me, sheltering them under the bed before father started his 'late night show' with me. the way their eyes would widen and tears start appearing in the corners made my legs fail and I'd hold their hands tight.

I remember one day that was one of the worst for me. I was eight while Ran was five and Rindou only four.

"Nothing bad will happen to you, okay? Not as long as I'm here." my voice harder than my thoughts, all I could think about was having them there and not let that man in.

Ran's eyes prickled with heavy tears. " What will he do to you?" he had asked. my tongue felt thick and I couldn't swallow. then Rindou's skinny hand pressed to my arm. I look at him and he's wearing an expression completely different than Ran's. once Ran was at the verge of tears, despair and fear, Rindou had his brows knit together and his small tired eyes looked at me fiercely.

" I hate daddy." he whispered and Ran wiped a tear out of his red cheek.

" I hate him, too."

~

but, you know, although we didn't have the best upbringing, every now and then I'd manage to sneak my little boys out of the house and provide them a little sample of what a normal childhood would taste like.

these are the few and only memories that I cherish of my life. these brisk moments where, somehow, we'd manage to forget about our fucked up dad.

" Come on, boys! The last one to get there is going to eat cold dinner!" we ran to the playground near the parking lot. I held my dress down as the autumn breeze hit my face and messed up with the hair. Ran was fast but not as fast as Rindou. that boy was something else. he was faster than both of us and he was the younger.

that day we had spent the whole noon in the slides and the swings. Ran fell and screwed up his knee, we'd have to find a way a hide that from dad, but at that moment we didn't care. all we cared about was ourselves.

I sat down to catch my breath and watched the two going up the ladder and then sliding down. I smiled to myself. it wasn't often I heard them laughing. I loved their little smiles. they never smiled in front of dad, though.

but lately I've been noticing that as we grow up, their eyes get sadder and their cheeks don't get that simple shade of faded pink and they don't even joke between themselves. have i failed? was this effort I've been putting all these years... in vain? it were minimum the times when the monster actually beat my brothers. so I guess that I succeeded. guess no matter how much I tried I couldn't change the ambience.

part II here! reblogs and likes help insanely. thank you <<3

[felswritingfire]

(Hades) Gods x Shade! Reader

No matter how much you try, mortality will always catch up to those who are not of gods. Even the most blinded of them learn this eventually. You take your death with grace, choosing to go and explore this new world as soon as Lord Hades permits you to go, impressed by how little you complain and demand. You are one of the brighter parts of his day (night?).

You drift along, catching certain snippets of other Shade’s conversations as you wander aimlessly. You notice a crack in the wall; deciding to muster up your courage, you slip through it to find yourself in the glowing green torches of Tartarus. With what little you have, you hold it close to your translucent body and push forward.

You’re quick to notice the large glowing ball with an oddly familiar symbol floating in the middle of it. You take your time circling it, feeling compelled to touch it. When you do, a beam of light comes slicing through the dreary air to reveal a mighty god who stares down at you at your shocked form...

Zues

Cause of Death: Lightning Strike

Zues is confused when he sees you. He’s even more confused when you start screaming at him, waving your hands about and threatening to fight him yourself.

“You fucker! You killed me!”

He raises a brow. “I think I’d remember if I killed you.” You flipped up your middle finger at him and his eyebrows drew into an angry v. “How rude! I am the God of Gods-”

“I don’t care!”

Zagreus had to high tail it to you before Zues tried to smite you (possibly a second time).

Suffice to say you hoped you’d never bump into that boon again. And you didn’t. No, the God of Gods and Lightning himself decided that he’d have to make a house call himself (Hades was not pleased when a bolt of lightning came crashing down and left a scorched black ring in the carpet).

He picks you out quickly and you try to zoom out of the lobby until he catches you by the back of your robe and then you’re swinging and yelling profanities at him. He’s kinda amused now instead of angry- you’re just so weak and tiny compared to him. It’s hysterical- ow! Did you just bite him?

After you and Zues finish your little “spitting match”- Hades kicks Zeus out and you're forced to hang out in Tartarus for a bit (“but I’m just a simple fisherfolk! I can’t fight anything!” You cry, Hades does not spare you a look as you're dragged out by Meg).

You think maybe that’s the end until you’re approached by a… a squirrel? You almost punt it when his voice spills out as he shoots into a long prattle about how much of a jerk Hades was and how he couldn’t handle someone as grandiose as him appearing before him. Threatened him as a god or something- you were busy trying to figure out how you were going to kill this guy and make sure he stayed dead.

Turns out, after the two of you chattered (argued) a bit about whether or not he actually killed you, Zeus had some neat stories about the gods.

While you were interested in his children’s and brothers’ and sisters’ stories, he was interested in your stories of the mundane. A simple fisherfolk? That was a word? You just fished and traded? Amazing! Tell him more!

After this particular interaction between the two of you, Zeus really ended liking you. Maybe a little too much, but, aw well, it wasn’t everyday a mortal soul had the balls to argue with him for something he doesn’t remember doing (he probably did. Probably. Most likely). He swore that he’d come and see you everyday as he sat on your shoulder as a squirrel, going on and on about how you should feel blessed to be praised by one such as he. You were about to throw him until a giant hand came out and grabbed him (seemed you drifted too close to Lord Hades’ desk), the hulking god flinging him out of a portal.

He continues to pop up and bother you and, to be honest, he’s kinda growing on you. Also, I’m gonna be frank and lay it out that, if he likes you enough, he’s probs gonna want to smash, especially if you lean more towards the feminine side (he’s fucking AWFUL). It’s up to you if you wanna indulge that or not, I don’t recommend it, but you can if you really want to.

We’re going with the option you don’t smash- he’ll be salty at you for a whole ass day before he comes back the one after that as a rat (Hades kept finding out his forms that he used to sneak in so it was an ever constant menagerie of appearances to keep up the disguise) and is like: “I thought you would miss me too much so I came back before you could even complain.”

Zag likes to watch the two of you interact because he finds it absolutely fascinating. It’s like watching… He doesn’t know what it’s like but he’s having a blast as you roast his uncle to bits. It really helps him out when he’s feeling a bit down after failing getting out one too many times.

When you first get Zeus an Ambrosia, he thinks it’s poison and then he gets all prideful because of course you would give him an offering, he was the strongest of all the gods! Him and him alone!

“Silly, mortal, you cannot poison me! I am a god.”

You squint your eyes at him before you huff and pull the bottle closer to you. “Fine, whatever, I’ll just give it to Zagreus- or better yet, Hades if you don’t want it.”

“No! No! I want it! Give it to me! It’s mine!”

During this time, he’s actually experiencing some purer emotions in life- he’s genuinely giddy that you got him the Ambrosia and asks how you got it. You hold up a makeshift fishing rod and grin at him, telling him you snatched it from some nasty shades before you wandered back down to Tartarus.

His gift to you is a little lightning pin that, when you're in danger, will send a nasty bolt of lightning down on your enemies. You wonder what good it’ll do since you’re dead already, but shrug and accept it, thinking that he looks years younger and friendler when his smile isn’t packed full of ego and pride.

Poseidon

Cause of Death: Drowning

Poseidon, Lord of the Oceans, Earthquakes, and many other things, is simply- how do you say? Amused? It’s the best way to describe it at least. Of course he was mostly surprised when he appeared expecting the Little Hades to be waiting for him just to meet a Little Shade in his place.

“Why, hello there, Little Shade! You wouldn’t happen to know where the Little Hades is, would you?”

You shake your head, he doesn’t miss the way you nervously play with your hands, drifting back as some of his droplets float close to you.

He laughs at your simple reply. “Shy one aren’t you?” He leans closer to you, squinting and running a hand through his beard while he hummed.

You fight the urge to take a step back, the smell of salt water making your stomach churn.

His eyes flutter shut as he takes a deep breath. He takes a moment before he opens his eyes again and a look of understanding flashes across his eyes. “You drowned. Didn’t you?”

You stare up at him, eyes round and glassy. You nod.

Before your conversation can go any further, Zagreus comes running through the window, surprised to see his Uncle talking to a Shade (you look so scared- he hopes that you aren’t being bullied). You’re quick to take your leave bowing to both and passing the boon to the Prince before you scurry away into the cover of the other Shades.

He hums to himself, a cryptid smile on his face as his eyes follow after you. Such a strange little thing you were- he wouldn’t mind seeing you again.

It takes a bit, but he does happen to see you again, by peaking through a fountain in a fountain room in the Underworld. He spies you trying to poke at the water that he happened to choose, but jumping back each time. You face scrunched up into one of pure frustration. He asks if you’re doing alright there, Little Shade? Causing you to flash out of existence for a moment before settling back down and looking into the pool with wide eyes. Posiedon almost busts a gut with how hard he’s laughing and you huff telling him that it wasn’t funny.

He says otherwise, but asks what you’re doing. When your face bursts into a large blush you mumble something that he doesn’t quite catch and he’s left with more questions than answers as you take the chance to phase out of the chamber when Zag walks in and steals his Uncle’s attention for a split second. He furrows his brow before asking his nephew about you, which Zag, surprisingly, supplies rather quickly, seeing as the two of you talk a lot: apparently you’re deathly afraid of water after you were thrown into the ocean by your supposed best friend. The memories of the waves crushing you deeper and deeper beneath them sticking with you even in death. So, you were trying to curb that phobia. Posiedon nods, letting the words sink in before he offers the Little Hades a thumbs up and says he’ll help with that.

The next time you see the god, he’s eager to call you over and explain that he’s figured out what you were doing last time and offers to let you mess with some of the drops of water that follow him wherever he goes. You stare at them, eyebrows furrowed and looking just as sick as a shade could look. Yet, you still nod your head and hold out a shaky hand. He smiles at you, praising you for your courage and flicks one towards you; it floats gently before it rests serenely on your palm, allowing you to feel the cool sensation of the droplet. You marvel at it, still shaking with an anxiety before you nod. He pulls it away, it shoots back to rest next to his head and you thank him for going out of his way to help you and ease your fears.

He remarks that you should fear the water out of respect: it’s unpredictable, terrifying in it’s own right- vast and, seemingly, never ending, what could possibly be more terrifying than the unknown, hm? He continues to say that you should also hold onto a bit of bravery at the very least, for untold treasures come from there for those who look.

After that conversation, Poseidon makes it a habit of having you hold onto his droplets of water, making them slightly bigger each time for you to get used to them.

By the time you’re able to touch them freely without experiencing crippling fear- the droplets are almost the size of you. Poseidon praises you the more you grow out of your fear.

You do eventually open up to him about how you died and he never tells you that he already knew. Just allows you to talk in a soft voice as you recall it. It’s a nice bonding experience for the both of you and Posideon decides that you’re his favorite Shade and he’ll treasure you for as long as you exist.

The first time you get him a bottle of Ambrosia, you come to him shivering and sopping wet. He’s confused and concerned as he hovers to you.

“What happened to you, Little Shade? Are you alright?”

It takes you a moment to be able to speak. “I- I found a bottle of Ambrosia. I thought-” you take a deep breath, holding out the bottle with both hands- “I thought you’d like it.”

It’s one of his prized possessions now, he takes little sips of it once in a while, but other than that it remains as one of his most precious memories. He’s very attached to you at this point and you’ll forever have his blessing. His gift to you, aside from the undying loyalty, is a shell necklace, if you ever need him- you only need to whisper his name to it and he’ll appear in an instant.

Athena

Cause of Death: Exhaustion

Athena had been prepared to meet with Zagreus- not a curious shade staring back up at her with all the relevance of one of her worshippers.

“What business do you have with me?”

She raises her brow at your gobsmacked expression, watching as you screw your face up before bowing. “Apologies, m’lady, I only happened to bump into your…” you look at where it glows, furrowing your eyebrow, “your orb?”

“Boon.”

You nod your head in understanding before bowing your head again. “Again, my sincerest apologies.”

Luckily, she didn’t smite you, instead asking the question of how you were even talking to her. Getting a shrug from you, you say that maybe it’s because you worshipped her (unofficially, you were never able to make it up to her shrine much to your disappointment) when you were alive- maybe a deeper bond is there compared to someone who had never prayed to her for her protection and guidance.

When she hears this, she’s very interested, pressing you to elaborate further when the Young Prince comes jogging out of the glowing window, waving to you. You slink away, passing the boon to him and bowing to her once again before you disappear into the mass of Shades that choose to wander their new home as well.

After the conversation, you had caught the Goddess’ attention, planting a desire in her to see you again. Even going as far as to write a letter to ask her uncle for a council with you after a week passed of her placing her boon in Tartarus so that maybe you would drift too close to it once again. But each time only the little prince would find them (which she was fine with, but it still left such an unflattering taste of defeat on her tongue each time it wasn’t you). She figured it would be a moot point to send the letter, but it was worth a try.

But she decided to place her boon down once more before she sent it out. Just to try. And this time it worked.

You were the one she saw and she was absolutely delighted- not that she showed it, choosing to keep her stoic and sharp expression. You greet her in a similar way before: awed before bowing your head to her. You continue to go on about how you're happy to see her again and, despite how little you had been buried with, you hoped that she would take this- a broken sword, despite the worn hilt and the deep scars the littered what was left of the flat of the balde; it was still polished (at least what was left of it)- as a proper offering to her for all she had done in your life- even if it truly wasn’t all her doings.

She takes the sword in her hand, holding it high, her eyes shining as she studies it: truly, it was a warrior’s blade. She watches as the history and memories flash in the smooth iron. She remarks that it is a remarkable offering, but she cannot accept it. It feels wrong taking a weapon of a warrior such as yourself.

You smile as her, shaking your head, urging her to take it, for you didn’t need that blade in this afterlife. You had already fought your battles, killing the man who you had been battling with and quelling the rage that had followed you since you were a child for revenge. Eventually, dying from the strain of the fight with a feeling of contentedness.

Athena raises her brow, remarking how that sounded more along the lines of Ares rather than her.

You nod, but say that you couldn’t help but desire her help for she was the goddess attached to your favorite animal. She had to fight the urge to laugh, a shaky smile slipping through as she nods at you. Such a silly thing you are. She decides that she’ll take the sword as a reminder of you, no matter where you should go now. She also decides that you were forming a rather soft cradle in her heart.

After this, she is quick to ask Zagreus about you every chance she gets- not that he minds too much, he tells her about how you’ve been helping him train and you’ve even told him about your life when you were alive (“a general, can you believe that? They’re so young!” Zagreus says as he shows her the new move you taught him). She’s only the slightest bit miffed at hearing that you and Achilles have begun to form a sweet friendship. She’s pleased to hear that his father has been trying to barter with you to get you into Elysium, though she’s a tad confused on the reason you refuse to.

She asks you about it one day and you say that it would take longer to see her and you would prefer to avoid that. It was the only time the goddess has ever had to fight down a blush.

When you get her a bottle of Ambrosia, she’s in pure awe at the huge bottle.

“How did you get one this big?”

You lean against the new sword you managed to get your hands on- something simple and obviously used- you offer her a lopsided grin. “Well, not just any Ambrosia would work, so I decided to try my luck with Lord Theseus and, The Great Bull, Asterius. Took me a couple of tries but I managed to beat them and snag it.”

Athena smiles warmly at it, telling you that she’ll treasure it and think of you every time she takes a drink of it. She realizes in that moment just how important you had become to her, never feeling this… soft for a mortal soul in her life. Her gift to you is a shield and a new sword: the shield bares her symbol of an owl while the sword was ornate with a divine glow. She promises that no matter what they’ll protect you and so will she, you only need to call out her name.

Aphrodite

Cause of Death: A Broken Heart

When the Goddess of Love first sees you- she thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous (of course not as gorgeous as her). The sad look in your eye and the slight frown that rests on your lips makes her almost fall in love right then and there.

“Hello, little one- do you know where the little godling is?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry, Lady Aphrodite. I know not where he is.”

She raises her brows, a smile on her face. “How did you know I was Aphrodite, my dear?”

You look up at her, a sudden glint in your eyes has her yearning to see it once again. “No one else could be so breathtaking, my Lady.”

Oh. Oh, she likes you.

She chooses to chatter away with you- despite you mostly listening, adding little things here and there, she feels a strange sense of fullness, like she just ate a full and warm meal for the first time in a very long time, by the time Zagreus arrives. You bid your farewell and she can’t help but follow you with her gaze as your transparent form blends in with the other Shades.

Aphrodite is thrilled the next time she runs into you- or rather you run into her boon. She missed the melancholy look in your eyes, she also doesn’t miss the fact that you’ve come bearing gifts this time: an assortment of colorful flowers rests in your arms and you offer it to her. That glint coming and going like a shooting star as she accepts the offering, holding it up to her nose to take in their sweet scent. How sweet were you to hand her something so delicate.

She asks you where you got them and you remark that you made your way up to Elysium. She’s surprised to hear as such- you didn’t seem like the warrior type. You shake your head, your eyes sweeping low. You weren’t a warrior, far from it- a simple florist if anything. You just drifted until you made it up there and plucked some flowers to make bouquets. You mumble that maybe you’ll be more useful in death.

She tilts her head at the comment, beginning to ask until Zagreus is jogging up to the both of you and it was time for you to leave. She’s a tad annoyed, but reminds herself that the little godling didn’t know- simply trying to break out of this dreary place he calls home and see Olympus in all its glory. She’ll just ask next time.

You gave her another bouquet, this one more beautiful than the last, when she gets the chance to ask you her question. Your eyes pool with a mournful look as you gaze up at her, your hand resting over the place where your heart used to beat as you look to the ground. You explain that you were young when you were wed- just as you were young when you died. You were married off to someone you did not love- someone awful, vile, who beat you down daily just to build you back up so they could laugh when they toppled you over once again. You remark about how you could feel yourself dying little by little, your delicate heart bleeding as your want for life began to dwindle away. You grew sick and you would sit by the window day in and day out, staring out and wondering what your life could have been if you were married to someone you loved. A ghost of a smile blooms on your lips as you look up at her, that glint she oh-so loved twinkling in your eye as you say that you did not die in as much loneliness and pain as you could have; having been making a bouquet dedicated just to her love and sweetness: your Lady Aphrodite who you love, ever so much.

She’s shocked when she realizes the tears that drip down her cheeks, her hand coming to caress your cheek (really your head, she was hulking compared to your small form) with her fingertips. She comments that she would accept every bouquet you made and treasure each flower like it was the one you made for her with your last breaths in the living world.

After that interaction, she comes down a lot more, asking Zagreus if he could bring along her darling florist so that she could talk to you. He always obliges, loving to see the two of you chatter about (well, her chatter about, you usually just listened with a smile on your face as you used the flowers you had plucked into flower crowns for him and Lady Aphrodite). You two become a sort of comfort for him when he’s getting frustrated: seeing your usually melancholy demeanor light up as soon as the goddess appears and in turn the goddess becomes something less vain and more gentle as she speaks to you.

At some point, you’ll probably meet Ares himself- the two never that far from each other, also she adores you, so it only makes sense for you to meet him. He’s honestly a tad unimpressed when you first meet, but when he hears about the heart ache you faced he gains a sense of respect for you, remarking that love is a battle in and of itself and you fought valiantly to keep your ability to love freely (Aphrodite might convince you to have a threesome, I’m not gonna lie, she’s attracted to you on a deep level and she has her trysts with Ares- it’s perfect in her eyes. Though she won’t push you if you don’t desire it).

When you first get her Ambrosia, she’s flabbergasted before it turns into worry for how you got it and the potential danger you were in.

She takes the bottle of gold liquid and the flowers that you had so carefully arranged. Her attention, though, is focused on the said bottle of Ambrosia. “My Darling Florist, how did you get this?” Before you can answer she shoots into a flurry of questions. “Are you alright? Did anything catch you? Hurt you? You don’t seem hurt. Oooh-” she puffs her cheeks out, her gaze sharp- “why did you get me this? It’s dangerous!”

You wait for her to calm down. “I apologize for making you worry, but I simply snuck around and grabbed it from some witches- they didn’t even notice me. And I-” you tap your fingers together, a blush blooming across your face as you look away from the goddess and she decides that she craves seeing that expression on you again- “I thought that you deserved it. It’s a much better offering than my silly bouquets.”

Well, aside from the ‘silly bouquets’ comment (which she corrects you on very quickly), she’s absolutely flattered and it might be the final nail in the coffin that has her falling for you, the little shade in front of her. She decides that you hold a piece of her heart in your translucent hands, though she chooses to keep that information to herself.

Her gift to you is a hairpin that matches hers, though if you don’t have enough hair- she says, you can always pin it to your robe. It’s a blatant claim on her part, but it also helps ease the residual heartache that followed you into death. And, hopefully (a personal hope of her), each time you look at it, you’d fall deeper and deeper in love with her as well.

Artemis

Cause of Death: Arrow to the Heart

She’s confused when she sees you, quick to voice her confusion as well. Also depending on if you're more feminine or masculine (and I don’t mean woman or man, I just mean how you present yourself), she will treat you differently depending. So, for now, we’re gonna go with the more “feminine” option:

“Who’re you?”

You bow. “An honor to meet you, Lady Artemis, I seem to have bumped into that orb on accident. Wasn’t sure what it did and the curiosity got the better of me.”

She hums, she perks when she notices your bow. “You’re a hunter?”

You smile, holding it out to her. “Yes, indeed, my Lady- I prayed to you a lot.” You laughed, adding. “Hoped to join your hunters when I was young.”

She’s quite happy to hear that and begins to chatter along with you. For some reason feeling oddly at ease around you. It’s probably because you were a fellow hunter but she simply can’t help the way she grows an odd sort of… adoration? Something like that, she thinks- for you. She almost laments the fact when Zagreus comes to get the boon.

You nod to him, biding your farewell to the Goddess and passing the boon to the Prince. She doesn’t miss how Zagreus’ eyes shine as you walk away. She almost comments on it but bites her tongue, wanting to observe the prince and the dreamy look that drifts over his features, even as you disappear.

The next time the two of you meet, she asks if she can see you in action. You agree and search up ahead to find something to demonstrate your skills on. You’re quick to find a few Numbskulls. She watches as you take a deep breath, your eyes narrowing on your unassuming targets and your footsteps become silent as you skirt closer to them. You nock an arrow, never looking away. Her eyes gleam with thrumming adrenaline at the way the muscles in your arms tense as you draw the string back. The low groan of the wood barely above a whisper as you wait for them to line up. You hold your breath, releasing the arrow- it goes through all three of them, making them break into dust in a consecutive line, a harrowing scream being wretched from them as they fade from existence. You release the breath you were holding and stand, sending a smile to the young goddess whose eyes shine with stars.

She praises you for your amazing skill and sings of your prowess. You shake your head, looking down at the ground as you argued that you were but a simple bow folk in your living life. Nothing more, nothing less.

She begs to differ! That type of skill only belongs to those of her highest ranking huntresses! She continues to gush about you until Zag comes up and, once again, greets the both of you. That dreamy look coming over his face as he looks at you. She watches as you once again disappear into Tartarus, this time though, after you’re gone, she turns to her cousin and shoots into a tangent about why he had never told her about you before and where did you come from? She has to know!

He answers all of her questions to the best of his abilities but there are even some he doesn’t know about, for example: how you died.

Artemis accepts this and decides that she’ll just ask you the next time the two of you meet.

And, true to her word, she does. She asks you point blank and you can’t help but be slightly taken aback. You laugh softly, leaning on your bow as you begin to recount that you were traversing her forest, as you had done many times before, and noticed fresh foot prints of man. You decided that it would be a good idea to look and you found hunters trying to kill her Golden Stag. You had dove in as quickly as you could, shooting one- the arrow sailing in a clean arch through his wrist before he could let loose his arrow. But as you went to nock another arrow- a searing pain in your chest and heart. You looked down to see blood pooling around your robes, dying the olive green of your cloak a wine red. You remember the last thing you saw was the Golden Stag running away. You smiled telling her that you were happy he got away- you don’t know what you’d do if he had been captured despite your effort.

Artemis suddenly remembers that day: her stag rushing to her and urging her to follow him- he bounded through the forest, frantic and panicked. When they got to a clearing, she was quick to notice the blood and the drag marks of a body. Her stag pressed his nose to the ground sniffing at the pool of blood, his eyes watering and bulbous tears slid down his muzzle. It suddenly made sense. You were the one he was mourning for.

She couldn’t help but grab your hands, resting her forehead against the back of them; thanking you for protecting her stag when she couldn’t. You smile at her, bowing your head to her and thanking her for the countless hunts she went on with you. You pull your hands away from her and hold out your bow to her. She asks what you think you're doing in a watery voice and you say it’s an offering. You couldn’t give much when you were alive and you still can’t give much now, but, this bow- it shall treat her right.

She sniffles as she takes it, trying to hold in tears. She vows to treasure it for all of time as she admires the worn wood.

That day, the two of you became closer as comrades, she would actively come down to say hi to you (and encourage Zagreus to take the leap and court you after she learned of his growing affections for you). The two of you would talk about everything you could think of, explaining how your hunting styles differed or how you could set a trap easier. She had realized that she had never felt this carefree with anyone before. She felt like a child. It felt nice.

When you snag her a bottle of Ambrosia- she’s swaddled in a whirlwind of emotions.

“You… You got this for me?” She asks as she takes the bottle of golden liquid.

You nod, that gentle smiling spreading across your face. “Of course. You had helped me so many times- it is only fair, my Lady-”

“Artemis-” she sniffled, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles- “call me Artemis, my friend.”

She finds you to be a perfect friend- a breath of fresh air from home. She may not feel any romantic feelings towards you, but she still holds you in a dear place in her heart. Her gift to you is a new bow and quiver that will never run out of arrows. The bow is enchanted and you’ll never have to fear it breaking for it will protect you for as long as you exist- in this realm or another.

Ares

Cause of Death: Blood Loss

When Ares first sees you, he is… well- he’s impressed that you stumbled upon his boon, but at the same time… He’s a tad miffed? That you found it?

At the very least he’s condescending as all hell about it:

“What is this? A little lamb came to beg me for power? How foolish. No matter how hard you struggle you will never be much more than some little shade.”

“Ah, sorry, my Lord! Didn’t mean to bump into it!” You hold up the basket in your translucent arms, “I wanted to see if I could find some new ingredients to bake with! I do oh-so miss it, sir.”

Well, he wasn’t expecting that.

He ends up allowing you to chatter on with him despite his obvious judgement on your, what he calls, “soft mortal hobby” until Zagreus comes to do his daily try of breaking out from the Underworld.

As he watches you drift away (after passing the boon and giving words of good luck to the Prince, who happily takes it), he kinda hopes to see you again

And see you again he does! He literally sees you the next day- night? Whatever, he’s never sure when he drops a boon in there- it’s damn dark-

He’s presented with a basket of treats and your gleeful greeting as you chatter that you found ingredients to make some Baklava and you thought that, maybe, he’d like to try it?

He smiles- cruel and sharp- and asks if you truly think that this is a fit offering for a god such as himself?

You shrug, saying he doesn’t have to eat it if he doesn’t want to

He laughs and takes it and you two are off chattering again: him regaling you with his war stories and you of the ingredients you had (somehow) found down here until Zag shows up, once again, the boon is passed to him (this time along with a slice of the delicious, warm Baklava. Which, he’s confused on what it is but he finds out very quickly that it’s his favorite treat).

The two of you talk a lot, which Ares is pleasantly surprised about, usually he’s the scorn of everyone- not that he cares, it causes conflict and he likes that. But you’re so calm and sweet that he just can’t get a rise out of you. Which, on one hand, pisses him off to no end, but, on the other, it’s such a nice change of pace for him. He’s used to the bloodshed and animosity of battlefields- the iron tinged air that follows after the warriors that traverse those fields. And yet, here you are: a shade that always has a treat for him when you run into him and the smell of warm sweetness wafting after you.

So when he learned exactly how you died- he was absolutely floored.

“How did you die, little baker?” He asked one day, fiddling with his knife, tilting it discreetly so that your reflection was in it.

“Oh!” You smiled sheepishly, glancing away from him and placing the bag of flour (how did you even get that? He’d have to ask you next) back into your basket. “Well- you see, I bled out.”

He raised his eyebrow, suddenly very interested. “How? You’re so…” he tilted his head and flipped his knife so that the blade pointed at him and the hilt pointed at you, he poked your arm with said hilt. “Soft.”

“Well…”

You explain that you had a little brother who had a nasty habit of getting into trouble- he was a good person, just made foolish choices- and this time, it had cost you your life. He had pissed off the wrong person and, well, when the man had attempted to grab your brother when the two of you were out walking the stalls on your break- you did the only thing you could think of: you fought.

Of course it went horribly, you’ve never been in a fight before then and, despite all the work you did with dough, it didn’t help much when the man pulled out a knife and dug it straight into your gut. But, you don’t mind too much- your brother’s alive and well and, from what you understand from asking Lord Hades, he had started to be more aware of himself and who he angered. Which made you super happy and proud of him!

Ares can’t help but feel some sort of pity for you. So much life to be taken so quickly and placed in- wait. Why weren’t you in Elysium?

You’re incredibly confused when Ares suddenly disappears (Aphrodite appearing in his place in the blink of an eye- she greets you happily and asks if you have any of Baklava to share today. You do not but you do have some Loukoumades if she wanted some. She did). You’re even more confused when the Underworld shakes and angry yelling fills the entirety of it for a solid ten minutes before all goes back to normal.

You tell Ares about it the next day and he simply hums. Keeping it to himself that he made a whole scene about you not being in Elysium by popping up and butting heads with Hades, of course he got kicked out. That still doesn’t stop him from sending angry letters that can span anywhere from one word letters (usually containing a curse word) to a 30 page essay on why you should be in Elysium instead of milling about in such unkempt places.

The first time you go out of your way to get him a bottle of Ambrosia is the day that both scares the shit out of him and makes him hate you for giving him mushy feelings.

You came to him in, almost literal, tatters: your greenish, transparent form ripped in places, the few wisps of you following after your torn form like they were tied to a string. You had held it up to him in a basket, a plate of Baklava sitting next to it, along with some other treats. “Lady Aphrodite mentioned that she wanted to try my Baklava, so I made her some! Though the Ambrosia is just for you, my Lord!”

He blinked at you, taking the basket in a delicate hold. He turned it this way and that, his chest feeling… warm? He wanted to grimace at the soft warmth that thrummed through his veins, yet it was replaced with a smile as he held up the gold liquid. “Thank you, little Baker.”

It was the first time he felt something so unexplainably soft: so gentle and warm as it settled somewhere between the bottom of his ribcage and the top of his stomach. He listened as you told him how you had gotten it: with Zagreus’ help (you even got to meet Lord Hermes! It was so amazing! He had scoffed at that) he led you to a room with Ambrosia as the prize and, despite the young prince’s worry, you managed to beat the monsters and collect it, mostly, by yourself.

Ares was so flattered, but he couldn’t help the way that your tattered form made him feel a sort of worry. He waved his hands through the wisps of your body before he snapped his fingers and a small blade appeared: a beautifully constructed blade that was an exact replica of his (albeit much, much smaller). He handed it to you, telling you that you should have a proper weapon if you’re going to go out of your way to fight in his name.

Dionysus

Cause of Death: Alcohol Poisoning

Dionysus, unlike many, is incredibly excited to see you sitting there. He adores mortal souls and can’t help but look at them each time Zag chooses his boons and he has the chance to glimpse at their souls (despite his tendency to let them go completely after they die- he can’t help but wonder about them once in a while).

“Why, hello there! What’s a little thing like you doing strolling up to my boon, hm?”

He can’t help but notice the way your eyes are a tad dull, but he writes that off as the dark of Tartarus since it’s gone as fast as he noticed it. You smile up at him, absolutely beaming at the God of drink and madness. “Hello, Lord Dionysus!”

“Oho, you could tell it was me? What gave it away?”

The two of you laugh, diving into a conversation. He offers you a cup of wine and is put off with how long it takes you to decline it. He almost thought you looked absolutely ravenous as you peered into the deep red liquid. He shrugs it off and continues to chatter with you until his favorite Zagman stumbles upon the two of you. He’s quick to say hi to you and even leans down to ask you… something. Dionysus misses it, but still watches the way you stiffly nod before you pass the boon to the prince and scurry off.

He’s tempted to ask about it, but decides that he should probably ask you himself instead of trying to pry. Mortals didn’t take well to people snooping around their private lives, which he could respect.

The next time he sees you though, he relaxes you into a sort of peaceful lull as he chats with you before he drops the question.

You stare blankly at him, that dark look in your eye coming back and making his skin crawl. You suddenly laugh it off waving your hands as you tell him that a god shouldn’t worry about a little ol’ shade like you.

He doesn’t push for an answer but the question still swirls in his mind, even as you toddle off after his Zagman pops up. He decides that he’ll actually ask the Prince this time around.

He asks him point blank and Zag, despite him being hesitant at first, decides to spill how you died. You had been the black sheep of your family, never truly fitting into the carefully set path that they wanted you to follow- so you found solace in drinking from a young age. It had taken the edge off of everything, Zagreus recounted you telling him. It filled you with a warmth you had been missing all your life and you couldn’t help but indulge more and more in it until it slowly became your own personal poison. Dionysus grimaced, for once feeling a sort of queasiness in the pit of his stomach as Zagreus continued on with your story. So, one day, you had drunk yourself into a deep stupor after an awful argument with your parents. But, this time, you never woke up. Instead you woke up floating in the river of blood- the River of Styx.

Dionysus had nodded after the Prince finished the story, playing with the goblet in his hand and swirling the red wine that resides in it. He offers a bitter smile to Zag and bids his farewell (of course leaving a boon of his choice with the lad) popping off back to Olympus.

The next time he runs into you, he asks if you’re feeling alright- if you want to talk. You blink at him, confused at first until realization dawns you. You bite your lip, looking down. He’s quick to assure you that you didn’t have to talk about anything- you two could just have a good time like always. You tell him that you’d like that, not yet ready to face your past. He nods, immediately telling you about an embarrassing story about Ares and how much of a lightweight he was which had you letting out an ugly snort along with your loud cackles.

The god begins to take it upon himself to have you smiling more and maybe remedy those dark clouds that appear in your eyes once in a while. He’s pretty observant despite being piss drunk half the time, it also helps that he’s very intune to your emotions for some odd reason, so he’s quick to pick up on when you feel down or your having something the equivalent to a relapse. He has you drink just a little bit from his goblet since it’s better than quitting cold turkey. And that little bit is always enough to quench your thirst and calm you down. You’ve been needing less and less of it as the days (nights?) pass by.

The first time you get Dionysus Ambrosia is the same day that he almost swears that he’ll marry you. He’s quick to grow emotional with the sheer fact that you went out of your way to get something so special for him, his face almost splitting with how wide of a smile he has on his face.

“You got this for me, man?” He says, holding up the bottle in his hand and inspecting it like it’s a precious jewel. “You know this stuff is hard to come by, super hard.”

You nod, the clouds far from your eyes now. “I had to thank you some way and punching a couple of Shades to get my hands on that was worth it.”

“You punched people for me?”

“Of course.”

He fights the urge to squeal and pops the top off, summoning another cup and pouring some in it. “Here’s to us!” He says as he hands you the cup.

He’s honestly never had so much fun just existing with one person. After that he’s never far from you, one usually not seen without the other around- even despite the Underworld not being Dionysus’ favorite place, he can’t help but be willing to venture down there to see you in person (he’s been trying to convince his wonderful Uncle Hades to let you come up with him to Olympus for a little bit- he’s even got his dad and (other) Uncle in on it. Hades officially hates all of them). His gift to you is a matching goblet that will supply you any beverage of your choice. It also has the double power to protect you from all that wishes to harm you, but you’ll learn that in due time. It’ll be more fun that way, Dionysus muses.

Hermes

Cause of Death: Falling

Usually, Heremes wouldn’t have taken the time of day to chatter mindlessly with a shade. But, it was a different story when that shade summoned him through bumping into his boon- now it’s just interesting!

“Eh? Who’re you? It’s kinda strange for a shade to be here and not my Cos, huh? Did something happen to him? You his stand in or something? That’d be kinda funny because you don’t seem like his stand in- not buff enough or something like that.”

You blink slowly taking in the words of his mile a minute speech as he continues to prattle on. You take a seat in front of the quick mouthed god, getting yourself comfortable as he flutters about and chatters. Not like you minded- he filled in the places where you couldn’t with steady conversation. You nod to some of the quips he makes, just to show you were still listening.

He decides then and there that he likes you a lot and that you should meet Charon. As soon as Zagreus pops up to collect the boon- he grabs the back of your robes and goes zooming off with you in tow. You wave to the panicked prince, allowing yourself to be dragged around. He continues to chatter on and on, only taking a break when he reaches the Boatman (who was not expecting a Shade to be accompanying the God of Messengers). He sets you down, tries to introduce you two to each other- realizes he doesn’t know your name, so you end up telling them your name- and then is quick to say goodbye, after he gives a scroll to Charon, and shoots off.

You end up staying with Charon after learning a bit more about the quiet boatman and Hermes is quite pleased when he realizes that he’d be seeing you around a lot more. He’s quick to flutter about you and chatter for a few quick seconds before zipping off. You wave at him.

The process repeats for a while before he finally takes a moment to really sit with you, Charon having gone to pick up more souls and lead them down the River of Styx. He chatters on aimlessly, asking little questions here and there before he decides to ask the million dollar question: “How did you die?”

You blink slowly as him before murmuring that you fell from a very high place, you head cracking open on the rocks at the bottom and now here you are. He asks why you were messing about on a high place, as that seemed to be something most mortals avoided doing. You explained that there was a kitten stuck in an old root on the ledge and you couldn’t just leave her. So, you crawled onto the branch and put her back onto safe ground, but the root gave way and then you went tumbling to your doom.

Hermes is surprisingly quiet throughout the entire exchange until you reach the end and he says: “you’re a real bleeding heart under all that quiet, huh?” You nod solemnly and he laughs, pulling you into a side hug. How could something with such a fleeting life be so selfless with it? He squeezes you harder before he stands up and bids you farwell, shooting off once again. And, again, you wave as he goes.

He grows attached to you quickly afterwards, bringing you little things that might help make you more comfortable down in the Underworld. Of course Charon is there to keep you company which he’s happy about- and he voices that exact thought to the boatman, who just grumbles out a long: uuuuaagghhh as his reply. He pats his arm and says that he knew he’d get it.

When you manage to get your hands on a bottle of Ambrosia- he’s completely blind sided that he almost trips on his own feet. His face flushing a deep red as he takes the offered bottle.

“How’d- how’d you get this?” His speech is all jumbled and jumpy, though he tries to keep the giddy excitement bubbling in his stomach as bay.

“I saved up my coin,” you said, nodding to Charon who nods back. “And bought it from Charon. I would’ve fought for it, but I’m no warrior.”

A smile splits across his face and the wings on the side of his head flutter. He’s quick to scoop you up and hug you, floating up with you as he does.

Hermes is an absolute giddy mess with your offering, not sure if he should kiss you or simply remain holding you. He had a special place for you before but this just solidifies his adoration for you. His gift to you is a pair of boots with wings on the side of them- an exact replica of his (in your size! Somehow-). He promises that they’ll help you get anywhere you want quickly, also the two of you match! How cute is that?

[sodadrabbles]

Hey! I really like your writing and was wondering if you could do a request! If not its totally understandable. Could you do a fic where phill and techno find a pheonix hybrid reader (like with the wings and tail) passed out in the snow? I just think it'd be kinda cool, thanks for considering my request!

Ohoho, phoenixes are my favorite mythical bird to mess with! I hope you enjoy this, I had a lot of fun writing it :]

Paring: c!Philza + c!Technoblade x phoenix!Reader (Platonic!)

Rating: Fluffy with a little mention of death.

Summary: You passed out in the snow- What happens when an old man and an anarchist find you? 1.4k words

Cold. That was probably the most simple way you could describe the situation you were in. But it isn’t a simple cold. It’s a freezing wind that pierces your skin with ice and sends a chill down to your bones. You could feel it deep inside you, like a curse or illness. But it was just the freezing arctic winds. You should have been prepared for this situation, you knew it would happen, yet you let yourself wander this far. 

Snow swirled in your vision as the wind whipped against you, freezing and unrelenting. You shiver again and try to curl your wings closer to your body, but the joints where the fiery appendages meet your back ached. You had been flying for too long, and now you have had your wings stretched even longer. The melting heat that usually poured from the ends of your feathers was starting to feel lukewarm at best, and that told you clearly that time was running out.

The arctic just isn’t the place for a phoenix, as warm as their cores might be, the icy arctic can put them out in an instant. It’s unforgiving, it made you question how anyone could live out here. But you had heard the rumors of the two men that lived far away from the Greater DreamSMP, sheltered away in the far snowy tundra. But in your state of ever-growing drowsiness, you couldn’t recall their names. 

You sigh, a tired and heavy sigh, as you finally let your wings rest. The large limbs droop and you can see, at the very tips of your largest feathers, where your fire burns the hottest, your flame could no longer melt the snow under them. Your time had come, though a few days early. But you showed no fear of the process, one you experienced so many times before, as you let your body slump to its knees, before falling forward into the crunchy snow. 

‘I’ll wake up in a few hours.’ You thought to yourself, feeling the now cold wings pressing into your back. ‘Just a little nap for now.’

---

“I just don’t see why I needed to come with you, Techno.” The blonde man huffs, pulling his heavy coat tighter to him. The snow had been picking up fast, the winds howling louder than the pack of wolves Technoblade had adopted. The piglin walking beside him was much less bundled up, the warm blood of his kind seeming enough to keep him warm through the oncoming blizzard.

Techno just snorts in response to his old friend, so unused to the snow, keeping his pace against the freezing wind. He had just been minding his business, brewing some potions when he swore he saw what he could only describe as ‘a column of white-hot fire’ sprout up from distance. It, quite frankly, scared the shit out of him. So, he grabbed Phil and dragged him out to investigate the strange occurrence.

After a few more moments of fighting the harsh weather, the two arrived at where the fire had come from. In its wake lie what was now a puddle, and scorched grass beneath that in the shape of a person. The two men glanced at each other before Techno stepped forward and reached out to touch the grass. Before he could, however, the spot of the grass that was once scorched burst into flames again, ash rising from wherever the fire touched. It swirled in the warm light, moving against the wind to take its shape. Despite how the wind roared the ash moved so calmly and in such a distinct way, forming the silhouette of a person. Of you. 

Once all the ash of your ‘death’ had clumped back into your form, burning red light filled the cracks and sealed the process. You felt your consciousness slip back into place, your memories, your being. You felt the heavy weight of your wings, the light flicking of your birdish tail, and the warm crackle of your fiery feathers.

And then you fell.

You had expected this, and yet as you tensed your muscles in preparation for impact, you found yourself getting caught by two separate pairs of hands. You open your eyes and blink, glancing at the two men now staring bewildered at you. Wait, there are other people here?

You gasp and scramble to push away from the two, but the older one- A blonde wearing a green bucket hat- Held tight onto your shoulder, holding you in place. He spoke, his voice was calming and warm, unexpectedly paternal. “Easy,” he breathed, using his other hand to steady you. “We aren’t gonna hurt you.”

You’re hesitant to comply, but carefully you steady yourself to your feet. You stare at the blonde man, his eyes heavy from many years of living. It surprised you a bit to see another immortal face to face. But as you looked closer you noticed the way the part of his robe that wasn’t torn refused to move with the wind, it hit you. An elytrian. 

You snap out of your thoughts as a gruff voice to your left draws your attention. You glance to see a large piglin standing there, his eyes still wide in shock. He was tall and broad and just standing near him made you feel small. You didn’t like feeling small. Out of instinct, your wings spread out. Not to full length, but enough to calm the anxious feeling of a prey animal being stared down by a predator. You feel the elytrian’s presence disappear from beside you. “What the- Mate, you’re on fire!” He exclaims, staring at the way your feathers spark and crackle like a fireplace. 

Yeah,” you laugh at the elytrian. Had he never seen a phoenix before? “That’s what phoenix wings do.” Your response doesn’t earn any laugh from the two, only more confused stares. The piglin is the first to speak up. “A… Phoenix?” The way he says the word makes you step back. This time the elytrian speaks up. “Aren’t phoenixes extinct?”

You stare at him, eyes wide. Had they really? Sure, it had been a while since you met another of your kind. Phoenixes were not social creatures, they preferred their seclusion and stuck to their own. You just assumed…

“No, clearly not.” You straighten your back and try to puff your wings. You wouldn’t let yourself be intimidated by the two hybrids. “I’m here, so we aren’t extinct.” 

---

After you explain why you were in the arctic in the first place, you managed to earn the two’s names. Philza and Technoblade. You had recognized the two names, you heard stories about the two Anarchists from your friends in the Greater DreamSMP- How Techno had taken down L’manburg twice, and Phil helped him turn New L’manburg into L’manhole. You had admired those stories- Admired the bravery it took to stand up to corruption.

It was the remaining members of L’Manburg that drove you from your home in the Greater DreamSMP- With Tommy building his hotel near your home and being unable to find safety in Las Nevadas with Quackity, you wanted to find somewhere to go where you would be unbothered.

Though you must admit the life you found wasn’t what you expected. Phil allowed you to stay with them in the arctic, after much arguing from Technoblade. So you built yourself a home. You got to meet Ranboo formally- You had seen the ender wandering the Prime Path a few times, as well as near Snowchester. You weren’t too fond of him, but you learned to accept him. 

You finally were able to learn of what happened to your species. Techno had an astounding collection of books. His library was impressive, but he never allowed you inside. He claimed your wings made him too nervous, and that made you laugh. The worries made sense- You once set part of Phil’s house ablaze as he was teaching you how to brew potions. 

Techno had handed you a book with no title, its leather cover stamped with a fiery bird. The piglin watched you as you flipped through the pages- Phoenix hybrids had, in fact, been hunted to extinction a long time ago. You remained to be the only one and would be for the rest of your life. 

And somehow, this didn’t bother you. You found all you needed right here- even closure.

[lesbian-deadpool]

They’re The Man

Part Two: Babies First Day At School

Words: 4,758

Warnings: The reader embarrassing themselves a few times, kinda ooc Wade, objectifying women... yay.

Summary: For all your confidence you never expected to get such cold feet, lucky for you Thor was there to push you into playing out your plan. I mean, how hard could your first day possibly be?

A/N: I’m not the most knowledgeable on binders, so the length of thime that you’re allowed to wear them may not be accurate in this fic. But it’s fiction so.

Ko-Fi

Commissions

(Not my pics)

---

You had a lot of wishes in life, the main one as of right now being for your swift escape without bumping into your mother.

But, as the saying goes.

You can't always get what you want.

It was only when you were a few feet from the front door that you heard Maria's voice behind you.

"Uh, where do you think you're going?"

"Fuck," you hissed to yourself before turning around to face her, "Mom, I told you. I'm going to stay at dads house for two weeks."

You tried to turn to leave, once again, but were stopped by the blonde woman.

"No, you didn't. And you're not going."

"Listen, mom-"

"We've hardly spent any time together this summer. So, march upstairs and unpack."

"Yeah, I wonder why," you mumbled, so she wouldn't hear. Hastily clearing your throat, you continued, "Mom, listen, I had a good long think about what you said. And I know Christine is gonna be there the whole time with Tony because he can never get rid of her. So, I was just thinking, that maybe she could show me the ropes on the whole debutante ball thing. Y'know, how to act all "proper" and stuff." You couldn't help but use air quotes, but that didn't matter. She ignored it, too busy beaming at you in excitement from where she sat at the dining table.

"This is so exciting!"

"Isn't it?" you exclaimed with a fake smile and false happiness to go along with it.

"You're gonna have so much fun." Thanks to your tailored lie, your mother now led you to the door herself. All the while, rambling on, "There's the formal ball, of course."

"Oh, of course."

"And the Luncheon. And, oh, did I mention the fundraiser next week? It's gonna be a carnival!"

"No way!" you yelled, trying to convey great excitement.

"Now, your brother promised to be there-" You'd have to make up some bullshit story for that, too. You'll probably just tell her that he was behind on his studies, or something. "-So, remind him when you see him."

"I will." You nodded.

'He's not gonna be there.'

"Oh, my baby." You drew back slightly when her palms held your cheeks, moving your face side-to-side lovingly. "You're finally growing up and becoming a well-rounded member of society."

You had to bite back the fiery retort that sat upon your tongue at her words.

And with that, you took your leave.

---

For a man as large as Thor was, no one expected him to drive such a tiny car. Which only made it harder for you, as you had to get changed within the crammed Volks Waggon Beatle on the way to "your" new private school, disguised as your brother.

Only for the nerves to hit you as soon as you stepped foot from the car, in full uniform, peering up at the large school.

"Wait. Wait, hold up," you husked, quickly spinning on your heel to speak to Thor over the roof of his car, "Are you sure I can do this? Because I don't think I can anymore."

"Yeah." Thor nodded, with his hands upon his hips. "Absolutely."

"No, I can't. You're lying."

"I'm not lying. Now grab your bag."

Doing as told, you reached down and scooped up your packed duffel. Unseen to the unconvinced look occupying Thor's face.

"What's up?" a random student asked in greeting as they walked by.

"Oh my, God, he knew," you said to Thor, voice full of panic, before the man swiftly followed, mimicking your stance of bending half in his car, "I wanna go home."

"Chill out. He was being friendly."

"This was a bad idea!"

"No. We are not going home!" he argued back.

"I wanna go home, right now!" You pointed a single finger at him. "If you don't take me home, so help me, Thor!"

"No. I did not spend all of this time-"

"This is your fault!" you yelled irrationally.

"My idea?!"

"Drive! Home! Now!"

"You asked me! I was a good friend! I did your hair and everything!"

"Reverse the car!"

"And that was not an easy thing to do-!"

"I want to go!"

"You're being a baby!" Thor began pushing you out of the car. "We're not going. Go! Get your butt out of my Beatle."

"Just drive the car!"

The blonde man crawled through the car, following to make sure you didn't try to hop in once more.

"He was just being friendly, Y/N."

"Okay!" you hissed.

"Now, let's run through it one more time." His large hands came to hold your shoulders, dusting any lint or fluff off of your blazer. While also simultaneously straightening it out for you. "Gimme the voice."

You cleared your throat and spoke, "Hey. Sup? I'm Tony," in a notably deeper tone than your usual voice.

"Okay. Now show me the strut."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, now, walk," he replied sternly, pointing towards the few feet in front of you.

For the second time that day, you did as the burly man told you and walked for him, his shoulders swaying with your movements.

"Now, hawk a loogie."

You gave no hesitation to do that, pulling back up to the man with a bright, proud smile on your face.

"I'm so proud!" he gushed, pulling you into a bone-crushing bear hug.

That's when you remembered where you were and what you were doing. Smacking the man with the 'Welcome' booklet. You hastily pulled away.

"Get off me! Toxic masculinity, remember?"

"Hey, inside every person, there's a boy."

"God, I hope not," you cringed.

"Oh, you know what I mean." You gave Thor a fake smile, making your way from him and towards the school, when he called your attention back to him, gesturing your dirt-stained rugby ball. Throwing it to you with a final goodbye of, "Be a good boy."

It felt like you were a new attraction in a zoo, with the way it felt like almost everyone had their eyes on you. You tried to tell yourself that it was just your mind messing with you. But more than a few times, you caught your fellow students watching you. Some with eyes filled with judgement, others curiosity at the presence of this "new kid". You even found a few of the girls looking at you with something looking akin to attraction in their eyes.

Even the Goddamn teachers regarded you curiously, their eyes following you as you passed one another down the open space where booths were set up, promoting their clubs, extracurricular activities, and everything else the school had to offer.

That.

That's when you heard it.

Looking behind you, you spotted the presence of a red and gold marching band heading right towards you.

Let's just say that running through a large marching band, trying to make your way to your on-campus dorm room was not the way you wanted to start your day at school.

Finally, you made it.

'Carter Hall'

Speedily checking your room number on the booklet you were given, doing your best to avoid the rowdy guys as you meandered through the halls. All the while chanting a pep talk to yourself.

"I can- I can do this. Yeah. I can do this. I'm a dude! I am a hunky dude. I'm a badass, hunky dude!"

Oh, God. What have you gotten yourself into?

After almost being hit in the face by a plethora of sports equipment, you finally made it into your room.

Turning, you jumped out of your skin at the presence of three men already residing within.

"Jesus, fuck! You scared the life out of me." You cleared your throat, remembering "the voice". "Hi! Sup? You must be my roommates. Shit," You finished in a hiss when your keys slipped from your fingers and landed on the carpeted ground.

You threw your bags onto the spare bed just as the beefy blonde asked.

"Wait. What's your name?"

"Tony Stark."

God, it felt weird using your brother's name.

"Steve Rogers." The blonde gestured to himself before pointing to the other two playing video games. "This is Sam and Bucky. They live next door."

"Nice meeting ya." You nodded to the two after shaking Steve's hand. Trying -and failing- to do a random secret handshake with him.

"Yeah, Freshman dorm's that way, kid." Bucky removed a hand from his controller to point in the dorm's vague direction, allowing Sam to pass him with his car.

"Seriously, how old are you?" Sam asked, glancing at you from the screen.

"I, uh, skipped a couple grades," you chuckled awkwardly through your lie, "I'm brilliant. Shh."

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at yourself. With Steve Rogers, watching as you awkwardly manoeuvred in your seat upon your bare bed.

"Anyho, do you know when rugby try-outs start?"

"Noon," the blonde informed, "You play?"

"Absolutely. You know it, bro. Have since I was a kid. So, uh." You moved to start unpacking your duffel. "You play the beautiful game... bro? Brothers? Brethren?" You spoke aloud, your contemplation.

"Yeah. So do Sam and Bucky."

"Aces!" you exclaimed, just as your boot tipped over and revealed the contents within.

"Uh, why do you have tampons in your boot?"

Your eyes widened.

'Fuck!'

"Uh..." 'Think of a lie quick.' "I get really bad nose bleeds," you almost questioned.

"So, you stick them up your nose?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah," you spoke as if they were stupid, "What? You've never done that?" All three of them shook their heads cluelessly. "Seriously? All the best players do it all the time."

"Really?"

"Yes. Look, I'll just show you."

Okay... maybe you're going a bit too far with the lie now.

Scooping up the menstruation products with haste, the boys jumped back and away when some flew out and towards them.

"Oh, grow up," you remarked, "They're not gonna bite ya. Look, you take this off," you instructed, as you unwrapped the tampon, "Whatever this plastic shit is. And..." Oh God, here we go. "You stick it right up."

You shoved the tampon up your nose.

Up! Your! Nose!

This was so not how you thought this day would go.

... it was a pretty good fit, actually.

With a shrug, you finished, "It absorbs the blood right up."

The three boys burst out laughing at your actions.

"You kidding, bro?"

"That's disgusting."

"Oh my, God, your roommate's a weirdo." Bucky slapped Steve's shoulder.

The blonde reiterated his pint once more as you returned to your unpacking, still with the tampon securely up your nose.

"That's so disgusting.

Your eyes widened once more at the realisation that just occurred to you. 'They were your girlfriends.' That's what you could have said. 'She must have accidentally packed them in my bag when she was leaving.' That's all it would have taken.

With a great sigh, you bowed your head at your own stupidity. Thinking how stupid it was that you even had to excuse having tampons with you, considering some men used them just like how women did.

---

Noon.

The sun was shining down upon the sports field as you stood in a long line of men. As the one-eyed rugby coach evaluated the line-up of the year.

"All right. Just like last season, we'll start this one sharp! And with new tryouts." The man repositioned his eyepatch to be more comfortable. "Okay, we have our work cut out for us. Shirts and skins."

'Oh, shit'

Clearing your throat, you gained the man's attention.

"Excuse me, sir. But I have to be a shirt."

"Run that by me again," he said gruffly, wanting further explanation.

"I'm allergic to the sun."

"You're allergic to the sun?"

"Yes, sir." You nodded. "Very, very, very deathly, murderously allergic, sir."

"Well, we like to accommodate her at Shield. So, how about I follow you around with an umbrella, baby face?"

Man, this guy was scary.

He checked his notes on the clipboard in his hand, notifying you of what he found.

"You're a shirt."

"Thank you, sir."

"Okay, guys, let's go!"

With the sharp blast of his whistle, set off the long gruelling training session ahead of you.

After a mammoth amount of training circuits, you were left exhausted. Practically rolling around, with your face pressed into the grass. As Coach Fury had everyone do one last set of push ups.

There was no wonder why Hydra couldn't beat Shield if you could beat the boys back at your own school with great ease, and this had left you almost dead on your feet.

"At ease, gentlemen," Fury spoke, bringing the session to a close, "There was a lot of energy and commitment out there today. And that makes a dedicated coach proud. Now, for the tough part. Four you. I'm going to split you up into first and second-stringers. Second-stringers, don't take it too hard. You're just as much a part of this team as the first-stringers. Apart from, of course, playing the game, if they can't play, part."

He gives a real good pep talk, doesn't he?

Fury began to list off names, and you felt as if it were almost inevitable.

"Lang. Parker. Quill. Barton. And Stark."

He handed you a bright yellow shirt, to which you gave him a tight-lipped smile and a single nod in thanks. "Second string. Congratulations to everyone else. You're all first-stringers. Now hit the showers!"

You were in a disappointed daze as you followed the group of boys into the building, only being brought out of it when a fellow second-stringer, Quill if you remember rightly, spoke in a relieved breath as he passed by you in the locker room.

"Shower time."

"Hold up. What? Shower time? Nope." You backed up when you saw the men getting undressed. Only to bump into Bucky and Sam, wearing nothing but towels wrapped around their waists, heading towards the showers. "Oh, sorry, bro... s."

One of the coach's assistants handed you a rolled-up towel, and dread filled you tenfold.

When, to your immense luck, in strode Fury.

"Stark! No shower for you."

"Okay." You had to battle to keep the relieved smile off your face whilst also stopping yourself from leaping towards the man and wrapping him in a hug.

"Principal Wilson wants to see you in his office."

"Okay, cool, thank you." You thrust the fluffy towel into his chest, swiftly exiting the room, practically at a run, while thanking your lucky stars.

---

Surrounded by objects of red and black, you sat in the principal's office, a sense of newfound dread filling you.

There was only one reason the principal would ask to see you in his office.

"That's it. It's over. I'm done. They know," you ranted nervously. Rocking slightly in one of the comfortable chairs at the front of the desk. Then your eyes latched onto a large filing cabinet. Your rocking stopped, and your back straightened up in intrigue. "Tony's file."

With quick movements, you reached the cabinet, pulling the very top drawer open and leafing through its contents. Reaching a thick, multi-coloured file in the masses of thin grey ones, secured with a large elastic band.

"Could it be any bigger?"

Before you had the chance to snoop through your brother's wrongdoings, in waltzed the principal, holding a plunger.

"Mr Stark!" he greeted, turning to you just as you closed the draw, accidentally getting your second-string shirt caught within it.

With your elbow resting upon the top of the filing cabinet, your fist up by your temple, the other half of your second string shirt laying over your shoulder, and a forced bright smile, upon your face. You saw your scarred principal for the first time.

"Wade Wilson," he introduced himself. Giving a bow, "Headmaster. Very pleased to meet you. So very, very pleased."

"Hello sir, I heard that you wanted to see me," deciding to keep up with the act for as long as you could, you shook the man's rough hand.

"I'd like to say 'welcome'." Wade mirrored your position against the filing cabinet. Then he started singing. "Welcome to Shield. Welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome to Shield. I just wanted to have you in to say welcome. See how you're doing."

You would have been doing great. Relief would be filling you right about now if you weren't so preoccupied with sneakily getting your shirt untrapped from the filing cabinet before you got caught out for snooping through it.

"Uh, yeah. I'm doing great, y'know? Just bust being a guy."

"Being a guy. Yeah." He chuckled lightly, eyes taking on a glimmer of someone remembering their teenage youth. "Well, let's take a look at your file, huh, Tony?"

He tried to tug the draw open, rattling it in its place from the force of his pulls. Not releasing, thanks to your caught shirt. "Seems to be... stuck a bit here." That was until you reached over and slapped the front of the metal draw. It popped open instantly. Managing to pull the shirt away before the principal could see.

"Oh, thank you," he called over his shoulder as you finally walked away from the cabinet.

"It's no problem."

"Okay, you're busted." Your mouth opened in a cringe, quickly pulling your face back to neutral as you turned to face the man. "I know you don't wanna sit in here and talk to the principal. But I won't take no for an answer. Now, have a seat in the headmasters' chair."

"What?" you asked, mildly confused.

"You heard me, now sit. Sit it."

"Okay..." with your drawn-out word, you moved to sit in his black office chair, the man patting you on the back as you passed him.

"So, Tony Stark." Principal Wilson sat in front of you on the edge of the desk. "How are you liking the campus?"

"Oh, it's beautiful, sir."

"You've been inspired? By the charcoal black and candy apple red?" a plaque was pulled towards you, the school's insignia and colours upon it.

"You know it." You smiled, tapping against the plaque.

"Hey" Hey, hey. Don't touch it. Ever. Ever. Do not do that."

"Right. Sorry."

"You know, Tony. I was a transfer student myself... once upon a time," Wade joked, hopping up to crouch on the seat you were previously residing in. After he had returned his treasured plaque to its original place, "Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth. So, I like to keep a special interest in the transfer students that come to this school. Act as a... unofficial big brother, of sorts. Don't be surprised if I don't just pop in randomly unannounced from time to time. To check up on ya' and see how everything's going."

"I'll keep an eye out for you then, sir."

"I'm glad. Now scoot!" He pointed towards the door.

"Nice meeting you, sir."

Thankful to be relieved of that situation and the risk of being caught by your headteacher. You hastily exited the office. Not looking where you were going as you closed his door, which caused you to bump into someone.

"Oh, fuck." You looked down to see a pretty red-head dressed in the school uniform, sitting upon the ground below you, "I'm so sorry."

You swiftly crouched down to help her with her many books and filed scattered across the floor between you. Unbeknown to the intruded looks she was giving you.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it."

"It's my fault," you said, taking full blame for what just happened.

"What is-?" the principle's question dies on his tongue at the sight of you and the red-head crouched on the floor, gathering her dropped work. You both turned to peer up at the man at the same time. "Oh... getting to know the opposite sex, are we? Male-female dynamics. All that sexual tension."

"What?"

"It's all part of the experience we call high school."

You peered over to the girl beside you, sharing eye contact, silently noting the man's strange words. Her green irises remained upon you as you turned back to the headteacher, cocking your head at him in confusion with slightly squinted eyes.

"So, continue. Continue. Please. But, uh, let's, uh, keep it clean, though, yeah? Okay. 'Cause, remember abstinence is key. Abstinence is- The best way to not. Is to not."

The man chuckled awkwardly as the red-head by your side glanced the side of your face up and down. Looking as if she were about ready to throw his whole speech down the drain for you.

Not that you noticed, of course.

"Uh... hmm?" the man looked back into his empty office as if someone had just called to him from within, just to escape the situation, "Yes."

The office door shut in your face.

"The hell?" you whispered to yourself, the red-head turning back to you, giggles pouring from her mouth. "He always that friendly?"

"Are you kidding? That's him being rude."

"Wow," you remarked to the girl.

Manoeuvring to your feet with the unknown girl following in your lead, you looked down at her stuff in your arms. "Right. Well, this is mine." You untangled your second-string shirt from around the binders and books, as she was left holding only a single book titled 'biology'. "And these are yours."

"Thank you."

"It was the least that I could do, considering I bumped into you."

"We bumped into each other," she corrected with a soft smile, the lights in the hall making her green eyes sparkle more than they did from just looking up at you.

"Hey, at least you were looking where you were going." Clearing your throat, you jabbed your thumb at the open glass door. "Well, I, uh. I guess I'll, uh. Y'know, go take care of some guy stuff."

"'Guy stuff'." She nodded with a smile. "Okay."

"Well, see you around."

"Bye."

'Guy stuff', you mouthed to yourself. Rolling your eyes at your words.

---

You were still grimy from your try out earlier in the day.

But it was dinner time, and you were positively starving.

Surprised to find your principal chipping in to help the cafeteria workers when he took your request for your meal.

"Here you go! Have a great apple and sandwich."

"Thank you, sir."

As you were walking away, a tall man wearing a purple shirt and what seemed to be gemmed rings upon each of his fingers and thumb and another gem-adorned the bracelet, on the same hand, began to ask the principal for his own food.

"Hi! I would love 1-"

"No." Wade shook his head in denial.

"But-"

And that was all you heard, the rest of his sentence trailing off the further away you got.

"Sup, dudes? You don't mind that I join, right?"

"Well, actually-" Steve started but soon stopped when you sat in the open seat between Sam and Bucky.

"Thanks! So, those rugby try outs were bullshit, huh? I mean-" You gestured to yourself. "'Second-string'? That's ridiculous, am I right?" Silence followed your words, the boys obviously not agreeing with you. "So, the game against Hydra. That should be interesting, huh?"

"Why would that be interesting?"

"Well, my sibling goes there, and they used to be best friends with that douche Brock Rumlow."

The three burst out laughing at the name.

"I know him," Steve nodded, "I made him cry once during a game."

"Woah, that was you?"

"Absolutely." He smiled. "Now, don't get me wrong, him crying isn't the funny thing. The reason he did was."

"Because you scored a goal past him."

"Yep. Now, that was funny."

"Is your sibling hot?" Sam asked suddenly, turning to you,

"Uh... I don't know? It'd be weird if I looked at them that way. But that doesn't matter. They wouldn't go for you, anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"They're gay. They don't like men."

"Ha!" Bucky laughed obnoxiously, throwing Sam a shit-eating grin. "You're shit outa luck, bro."

"Hey., shut up!" Then Sam coughed suddenly while speaking, "Incoming."

"What's this now?" you asked, following their line of sight. Only to see the red-head you bumped into earlier in the day, along with a black-haired girl.

Well, this was your chance.

Time to objectify some women!

Ugh, God.

"Oh, damn. You seen the ass on the red-head?" you asked the table.

"Uh-Oh." Sma turned to Steve, hands open as if waiting to catch him before he pounced at you.

"Don't talk about her like that."

"Oh? That your girlfriend, Mr Lover-Boy?" you teased.

Sam laughed. "He wishes." Looking away awkwardly when Steve turned to face him.

"She was dating this college guy, Matt something. They recently broke up," Bucky explained, "Well, he dumped her. And apparently, she's a total mess right now. Like, really vulnerable. Confidence and self-esteem are way down."

"In man words, now would be the time to pounce." Sam and Bucky high-fived.

"That's right!"

"Okay, wow," you whispered to yourself.

Just then, another boy, still suited up in his school uniform, practically made a show of walking to sit next to the red-head, solely for your table.

Steve grunted, clenching his straw between his fist. "I hate that guy."

"He seems like a creep," you notified as you watched him lean into the girl's space and handle her -thankfully wrapped- food. Before she swiftly took her sandwich bach from his hands and made eyes with her friend on her other side, "He your competition?" you asked Steve, nodding back to the boy.

"It's just bruce," he replied, as Sam scoffed at your words.

"Total geek," Bucky said.

"And not in the good way."

You were too busy looking at the red-head to reply to the guys at your table. Her green eyes connect with yours across the room.

"She looks so sad. She must be heartbroken."

The three looked at you like you had grown a second head.

Quickly rushing to explain, you said, "It's just... it's understandable, y'know? It must suck having your heart stomped on like that. Thinking that you know someone and then the whole thing just turns out to be some giant lie to them. Every touch. Every kiss."

Chairs scraping signalled you to their sudden exit. Leaving you at the table alone.

You called out to the retreating trio, "Plus, Y'know, you can never get chicks to shut up. Dammit," you whispered to yourself, "Okay, guys, catch up with you later."

---

You were in your pyjamas when you jogged into the empty bathroom later that night.

Wait.

Empty. Bathroom.

Empty.

You know what that means!

"I get to take a shower!" you celebrated to yourself quietly, whipping off your shirt. Moving to try and remove the compressing tank-top from your body. "Jesus Christ, why are these things so tight?" You, of course, knew the reason why. "Man, Thor was right. I should have practised more with it," you said as you finally got the binder off. Which proved unnecessary when you heard footsteps coming closer.

'Fuck!'

There was no time to throw the binder back on. Instead, you pulled your pyjama shirt over your head just before the boy you recognised as Bruce walked through the door.

With his dramatic gasp, you had thought, for sure, that you had been caught out for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

"Uh. Bruce Banner, Dorm Director," he introduced himself before violently jabbing his finger towards your bare feet, "Shower shoes are to be worn in the bathroom, at all times, except when in the actual shower." You rolled your eyes at the uptight man. "Did you just not read your 'Dorm Life' pamphlet?"

"Was I supposed to?"

"Yes. I..." He regarded you with a glare. "It was in your cubby."

Steve walked through the door just then and whipped the boy over the back of the head with the towel that was previously sat around his neck.

Bruce exclaimed in pain.

"Man! You got him good," you shouted as the brunette fell to the tilled ground with a yelp, "Sup, dude?"

"Yeah, I'm doing good, "homie"," he finished with air quotes.

You needed to get out of there. And fast.

You gathered your stuff in your arms and nodded once to Steve.

"Later."

"Hey, you forgot your tank top." He threw it for you to catch, "Coolio."

"Word, broski."

A sigh left your mouth when you exited the room.

You had never known a first day of anything to be as long as this one.

---

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[mostlycompetentwriter]

Wow, he’s hot

“Pairing: Fem!Reader x Seo Changbin (SKZ)

Word Count: 8K

Genre: Neighbors to Lovers? Lol

Warnings: Aged up characters (Changbin is ten years older than the reader), explicit sexual content, language, drinking

Summary: You were a fresh college graduate, returning home for the summer before starting a bright, shiny new position in the city, but you certainly weren’t expecting to fall hard for your neighbor. 

A/N: I hope at least one person gets my reference/pun at the end....But seriously? Oh, what have I done...

Your roommate was hungover again, dressed to the nines in a purple bathrobe and pink fluffy slippers as she attempted to move huge boxes of random shit between her bedroom and the foyer of your shared apartment. 

It was priceless entertainment, at least in your opinion, especially after witnessing your roommate in rare form the previous night dancing from one frat boy to the next, draining entire bottles of alcohol like she needed the liquid encouragement. 

From what you had observed, she was determined to embarrass you at all costs, and under normal circumstances, you could’ve avoided her rather inappropriate behavior in exchange for your regular hook-up, Joshua. But he decided to remain mysteriously absent for the entire evening, which meant that you had been stuck watching over your roommate, hoping that she wouldn’t get you kicked out again....

“I know what you’re thinking, Y/N,” Laura huffed, pausing next to the counter-top where you sat. “What did you expect? It was my last night of freedom before going back home.”

“Yeah,” you snorted. “It was mine too, but I wasn’t plastered face-down in the shower last night.”

“Whatever,” Laura grimaced. “Did you sign off on the lease yet?”

“I did it earlier,” you replied. 

“Our bitchy landlord’s been complaining all week,” Laura said. “I’m tired of her late-night phone calls, plus my mom’s been really annoying about the move.”

“Oh?” you questioned. “When is she coming?”

“In like an hour,” Laura huffed. “Why do you think I’m busting my ass to pack everything?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe you needed a distraction from thinking about puking in the bushes behind the frat house last night.”

“Oh, shut up about that!” Laura hissed, slapping your arm as you kept laughing. “Isn’t you brother coming tomorrow?”

“Ugh, yeah,” you groaned. “He said he has to come super early because of work, but my ass doesn’t start functioning until at least 8:00.”

“Well, at least tell Chan ‘hi’ for me,” Laura said, giggling like a love-struck teenager because she had been infatuated with your older brother for years.

“If I remember to tell him,” you grumbled, stretching out your arms and deciding that it might be useful for you to start packing as well, especially since the most you would be able to accomplish tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn is following Chan around the apartment in a zombie-like state as the two of you loaded your belongings into his car.

“Don’t forget that I’m coming to visit next week,” Laura said, and you perked up a little at the idea of having your friend come around, especially since the two of you had just graduated together and those long days and nights of being glued together at the hip were coming to a bittersweet end.

“Sounds good,” you agreed, checking your phone one last time to see a weird gif from Chan (as you had come to expect from him) before joining your roommate in packing up the remainder of your former college life.

Chan had always been prompt when it came to his familial obligations, and the two of you spent two hours loading all of your stuff into his car before starting the long drive to your old childhood home. A place that you hadn’t ventured to since leaving four years ago to start undergraduate school.

“Looks the same,” you remarked, sunglasses perched low on your nose as you allowed the window to roll down to take in some fresh air.

“What did you expect?” Chan asked, humming away to whatever shitty metal song he had playing over the radio.

In a totally random and last-minute decision, you had decided that for the next three summer months while you were stuck in an in-between phase, you were returning home for a while before you were set to move into a new apartment in the city close to where you would be working full-time. It seemed logical to save money, and there was a small part of you that did miss your family and old friends. 

Of course, despite Chan’s dismissal of your earlier nonchalant comment about the unchanging surroundings of your hometown, you were startled when you realized that the old house next door, which used to be occupied by an elderly couple until they moved away during your senior year of high school, was missing it’s familiar ‘for sale’ sign in the front yard, and there was a black Mustang in the driveway.

“Home sweet home,” Chan sighed when he stopped in the carport attached to your former two-story staccato, opening the door with a grumble. 

You frowned, following him around to the back of his car. “Someone bought the house next door?” you asked, dragging your eyes away from the sleek, shiny sports car to look at your brother.

Chan grunted as he heaved your suitcase from the trunk. “Yeah, they moved in last month. I think the owner is a lawyer and he lives there with his daughter.”

“Huh,” you remarked. “That house has been vacant for years.”

Chan shrugged. “Yeah, well, the guy who lives there now is really nice. Mom and dad babysit for him a lot when he’s working.”

“Great,” I muttered. “They’ll rope me into helping.”

“S’ not so bad,” Chan said, growling in frustration when your suitcase fell over to the side with an unpleasant crash. “Can you help or what?”

You laughed at your brother’s outrage, reaching back to pull your hair into a messy bun. 

Meanwhile, you noticed the front door of your house opening from the corner of your eye, smiling when your mother shrieked and rushed down the sidewalk to meet you halfway in a long-winded embrace. “Y/N!! I’m so glad to see you.”

“You’re crushing me,” you heaved through constricted lungs, accepting your mother’s open arms even if it was a little over-eager.

“Oh! I’m sorry, dear,” she said, pulling back just enough to allow oxygen to circulate once again, but not enough to pull you away from her mushy kisses. “You look so healthy and beautiful!”

“Yeah, thanks mom,” you said, slowly beginning the untangling process of removing her arms from around you while Chan struggled in the background to carry your suitcase up the front steps. “I should help.”

“Of course!” your mom agreed, but a distant tug of curiosity had you turning back to look at the house next door once again.

“Hey? Do you know anything about the new neighbor?”

“You mean Changbin? He’s wonderful, darling. So polite, and his daughter is so funny.”

You wrinkled your nose, never having been a huge fan of kids. “Chan said you babysit for him sometimes.”

“It’s always nice to help someone out,” your mother tsked, and you could recognize her patronizing tone from anywhere. “Such a shame that he divorced his wife. Heard it was kinda nasty.”

“It’s not any of our business,” you reminded her.

“Oh, I didn’t say it was!” your mother sighed. “He doesn’t talk about it much.”

“Jeez, how much do you guys talk?”

Because from the sound of it, Changbin had to be as old as your mom to make this much of an impression. You grinned as you briefly imagined the two of them on the front porch drinking tea together and gossiping about the rest of the neighborhood.

“He’s far more friendly than Mrs. Jones was,” your mother remarked. “I think you’d like him, Y/N.”

“I don’t know about that...”

“Well, you’ll get the chance to meet him tonight,” your mother said, smile full and wide. “I’ve invited him over for dinner!”

Oh, great.

“Can’t wait,” you forced out between clenched teeth, rolling your eyes when your mom clapped her hands together before grabbing your hand to drag you inside, feeling only a distant shiver roll across your spine as you walked onto the porch as if someone was looking at you from afar....

Your mother was hardly the type to run out of conversation, and you eventually were forced to leave her downstairs to argue with Chan over some menial thing that he forgot to do for tonight’s big dinner while you trudged upstairs to find some peace.

Unsurprisingly, your childhood bedroom remained untouched, and you circled around the perimeter, studying old pictures of yourself playing sports and hanging out with friends. Fingers dusting over your collection of old trophies and high-school yearbooks that recalled long-ago days of feeling carefree - with the future wide-open in front of you for the taking.

But you were well off in the present, allowing yourself to indulge in the nostalgia of looking through old diaries and journals before your mother’s voice called you downstairs for dinner later that evening. “Coming!” you called back, pausing next to your mirror to check your reflection.

The smell of your mother’s cooking had your stomach rumbling from the hunger of only stopping once on the way home to eat cheap fast-food with Chan, and you forced yourself to walk like a normal person even though every instinct was screaming at you to find the source of that delicious odor.

You were nearly salivating at the idea of your mother’s homemade cooking, and your hand caught the rail of the bannister to turn the final corner, but the sounds of voices from below forced you to pause at the top of the stairs, eyes growing wide as you took in the sight of the unfamiliar man standing in your foyer, talking to your mother like they had known each other for years. “Oh, Y/N,” your mother said, and you shivered when the man turned to look at you. “Come meet our neighbor, Changbin. I think you’ll really like him.”

You held back a snort at the ironic comment because it only took you a few seconds to come to the conclusion that Changbin epitomized the phrase “just my type.”

He was on the shorter side, built like he had literally spent his entire life working out, arms bulging beneath his t-shirt and chest straining the material tight to his front. So much so that you could practically see his nipples through the fabric. 

His hair was jet-black, ruffled from the wind outside, and his eyes were equally as dark, lips contorted into a self-satisfied smirk that you found exceedingly hot.

“Hi,” you mustered without much thought, nearly tripping over your own two feet on the way down the stairs.

“This is my daughter, Y/N,” your mother said, inviting you closer so that you were standing directly in front of Changbin.

“Nice to meet you,” he said in a deep voice that was slightly rough around the edges.

“Y/N just graduate from college,” your mother gushed. “We’re so excited to have her back.”

“I’m home for the summer,” you explained, shivering at the dark look in Changbin’s gaze. “I’m starting an internship in the Fall.”

“Y/N will be working in publishing,” your mother explained, jumping in while you and Changbin continued to stare each other down - something intense and provocative.

“Really?” Changbin asked, eyes making a leisurely stroll of looking you up and in down in a way that had you feeling extremely self-conscious. 

“Oh! Give me one second to check something in the kitchen,” your mother said, excusing herself with a smile before leaving the two of you alone in the foyer.

You inwardly cursed your mother for leaving you both in an awkward silence. Say something!! You screamed to yourself.

“So,” you started, clearing your throat and forcing yourself to stop swaying back and forth. “Chan told me you practice law.”

“Yeah,” Changbin agreed, and you swooned at his crooked smile. “It doesn’t sound as interesting as your work.”

“I don’t know about that,” you countered politely, but Changbin was unrelenting.

“You looked surprised to see me earlier,” he remarked.

You swallowed hard. “Oh, well when Chan mentioned a neighbor with a kid, I just wasn’t expecting someone so....”

“Yes?” Changbin prodded, encouraging you to continue.

Someone so fucking hot, you thought to yourself, someone who was literally made inside my best fantasies, but those explicit thoughts belonged exclusively inside your head. “Young,” you eventually finished, and Changbin seemed disappointed for some reason.

“I’m 32,” he said, and your eyes widened perceptibly, realizing that he was ten years older than you.

“I would’ve never guessed,” you said. “I mean, not that it’s a bad thing-”

“It’s alright,” Changbin interrupted, and you were relieved to hear him chuckle. “I know what you mean.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I can be a little awkward.”

“No,” he shook his head, coming to stand a little closer. “I think it’s nice.”

Oh? What was that supposed to mean?

“I used to have a boyfriend who looked a lot like you,” you went on, freezing when you comprehended what you had just blathered without thinking.

But Changbin didn’t seem bothered at all. “I bet he wasn’t as old as me.”

“He was my age,” you said. “But I kinda like older men...”

Fuck. Did those words really just come out of your mouth?!

“Y/N,” Changbin said, and you trembled at the huskiness of his tone. “You should be more careful.” He leaned in then as if trying to keep whatever he was about to say a secret for just the two of you. “I can be a very dangerous man.”

“O-oh,” you stuttered, finding yourself two seconds away from literally melting at his feet when your mother suddenly re-entered the foyer with a dusting of flour across her chin. 

“Dinner’s ready!” she announced, and you were fleeing behind her without a second thought, escaping the intoxicating hold of Changbin’s presence before you did something you might regret.

For whatever reason, you found yourself sitting next to Changbin in the dining room for dinner that night. 

“I made chicken,” your mother said, gesturing to each dish sitting in a line down the center of the table as she explained tonight’s menu. But you were barely cognizant of what your mother was saying because the close proximity to Changbin was doing very strange things to your head.

“So, Y/N,” your father started when everyone had been served. “I hope your brother was helpful with the move.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but you grinned at your father’s words. “Yeah, I was a little out of it though because of the time.”

“Like I said,” Chan huffed. “I couldn’t get there any later.”

“Let the bickering commence,” your mother said. “Changbin, you wouldn’t believe the fights these two had when they were young.”

“I can only imagine,” Changbin said, and you were wondering how someone could be even more attractive by the sound of their voice alone.

“Do you still need us to babysit for you tomorrow night?” your mother asked. “We would be more than accommodating.”

“That would be great,” Changbin said. “I’ve got a late conference call.”

“It’s no problem,” your mother continued. “Your daughter is just the loveliest.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Changbin replied.

“Y/N,” your mother said, catching you with a mouthful of chicken. “Changbin’s daughter is such a peach.”

You quickly forced down the food in your mouth when you felt Changbin’s gaze rest on you. “Oh? How hold is she, Mr. Seo?”

“She’s six,” Changbin said, and he shifted in his chair, causing your knees to brush together in a move that you knew wasn’t intentional, even if it didn’t stop your legs from wrapping together. “And you don’t have to be so formal with me, Y/N. Only my clients call me Mr. Seo.”

“O-oh,” you exhaled, reacting to the brief contact under the table, hoping that nobody else was noticing your strange behavior.

“Maybe Y/N could help watch Lucy when you’re gone,” your mother suggested, always the first to rope you into these things.

“Sure,” you agreed, even though the idea of pulling babysitting duty was less than appealing, and you could hear Chan snickering from across the table. He knew perfectly well your attitude when it came to kids. 

“I think Lucy would like that,” Changbin agreed, and you started to nod along until you felt Changbin’s hand move to your thigh.

Just that single move had your entire form frozen in place. 

While your mother continued talking about whatever subject caught her attention, you were left wondering how you should react to the very obvious posturing of Changbin’s hand moving decidedly against your bare skin.

“I’ll probably head back into town tomorrow morning,” Chan said. “I wasn’t able to get much work done.”

You knew it was a playful jab at you, but at that moment you were incapable of coherent speech.

“How is work, Channie?” your mother asked, just as ignorant as the rest of them to the situation unfolding beneath her table. “Anything interesting?”

“Not really,” Chan replied, and you nearly choked on the food you were swallowing when you felt Changbin squeezing your thigh. 

“Try to chew it first, Y/N,” your father chuckled, and you forced a smile which you hoped wasn’t as strained as it felt.

“What about you, Changbin?” your mother politely queried. “Anything interesting happening lately?”

“Maybe,” he said with a tone that was far too knowing.

“Hmmm?” your mother smiled. “You aren’t seeing anyone, are you?”

You knew the question was invasive, but Changbin handled it in stride. “I think it depends.”

“Sounds scandalous,” your mother joked, and you couldn’t have possibly been imagining it, feeling his fingers reach so high under the opening of your shorts that his fingertips touched the outline of your panties. 

You reached down to cover his hand with your own, bringing awareness to the fact that you weren’t ignoring what was happening, and he had every opportunity to pull back.

But he didn’t. In fact, Changbin’s light, playful touches only continued, and you were left reeling for what the intention could possibly mean.

Early the next morning, you were supposed to be cleaning the pool as a favor to your mother, but how could you be blamed for sneaking peaks at your neighbor working out in his backyard? 

“Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath, failing to do a very good job of pretending to be occupied with your current task while ogling the man across the lawn who was in the middle of another round of push-ups, biceps flexing while the rest of his body practically glowed under the sun. 

You knew it wasn’t a crime to permit the occasional glance, but your hardcore staring could certainly be qualified as spying at this point (especially in the direction of a lawyer) - making it blatantly obvious that you were very appreciative of the male form at the peak of performance.

Was Changbin seriously 32? And a father?

The questions boggled your mind, and in your distracted state, you clearly forgot to keep a firm hold on the handle of the pool’s leaf skimmer, huffing in annoyance when it splashed beneath the water.

It was enough to attract Changbin’s attention, and you were sure that your face was just as red as the towel draped over the back of your mother’s patio furniture when he stood to his full height before walking in your direction.

“Were you watching me?” Changbin asked, sauntering over to you with black mesh shorts hanging tantalizingly low on his hips, shirt foregone in exchange for a delightful sheen of sweat coating the skin of his thick upper torso in dripping rivulets. 

“Uh...” you trailed off anxiously, realizing that Changbin wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for your half-assed excuses, especially after what had happened between the two of you last night. 

“You’re not planning on lying to me, Y/N?” he asked, raising one eyebrow in question.

“N-no, Mr. Seo,” you said, shaking your head quickly, barely keeping a firm grasp of your bearings as he abruptly leaned in closer, musk hanging heavy in the air between the two of you. 

“I told you not to call me that,” he said, lips lingering far too close to your ear for a simple neighborly exchange, and you could feel the body heat emanating from him in waves, holding you completely hostage as you briefly entertained the idea of falling to your knees right then and there. 

“What should I call you?” you asked instead, fisting your shirt between your hands because you were desperate for something to ground you in that moment. 

You could practically feel his smirk, holding in a gasp when his hand settled at the low dip in your spine, fitting into the space there as he pulled you tight against his front. “You can always call me daddy instead.”

Your heart skipped several beats at the scandalous words. Either that or you had just entered cardiac arrest.

But before you could muster a response, you found yourself leaping out of Changbin’s hold when the backdoor opened, and your mother was screaming out your name while waving like a maniac. “Oh!” she said when she realized that you weren’t alone. “I didn’t mean to interrupt!”

“We were just talking,” you quickly inserted, glancing at Changbin from the corner of your eye to see him smirking. 

For a while, the very strange flirtation between you and Changbin simmered down, and you tried your best to avoid him when you could, even if he made that very hard to do since he insisted on doing his morning workouts outside in direct line of your bedroom.

It was during the following week that you brought the divine glory of Changbin to your friend, Laura’s, attention, ushering her into your house when she parked on the side of street. “What the hell, Y/N?” she complained when you started practically dragging her up the stairs. “I’ve been driving for hours.”

“Oh, hush,” you said. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Thank you for what, exactly?” Laura questioned, but your response was to simply push her toward the window, standing side by side as you looked through the blinds.

“My new neighbor.”

“Holy fuck!” Laura gasped when she finally joined you, and you could only nod your agreement as the two of you continued to watch Changbin through two narrow breaks in your blinds, wondering how the image of your sexy neighbor simply mowing his grass could make you so wet. “That man is huge!”

“I think he does it on purpose,” you remarked, feeling your heart palpitate inside your chest when Changbin took a moment to pause his chore, reaching down to remove his shirt and tuck it into the waistband of his shorts.

Laura’s gasp was almost outlandishly laughable. “He’s ripped! Like, Sports Illustrated model worthy.”

“I would buy every last copy of that edition.”

“I’d even go a step further and tape the pictures to my wall.”

You both stopped to look at one another, nodding in your collective agreement. “Not here, though, my mom would freak.”

“Yeah, but how can your mom expect you to just ignore...that!” Laura exclaimed, gesturing wildly to Changbin. 

“She thinks he’s a fucking Saint, but I swear to god, Laura, he’s provoking me on purpose! The other night at dinner? He came over and put. his. hand. on. my. leg,” you said, emphasizing the last line with what probably looked like a comical widening of your eyes. “And he works out every morning in front of my bedroom? What the hell am I supposed to think?”

“No think,” Laura sighed dreamily. “Just enjoy the view.”

“Do you think I’m not?” you snorted. “I’m serious about him doing those things!”

“So what?” Laura grumbled. “Why are you actually worried that your fucking super model neighbor wants to make a few moves on you? I would be honored.”

“I’m not worried,” you huffed. “It just feels like he wants something from me.”

“Well, if it’s a good fuck, then send him all the signals you can, girl.”

“Really?” you muttered. “You know I suck with flirting. That’s why I only hooked up with Joshua at those stupid frat parties. He didn’t care that I was an awkward mess.”

“Well, neither will your neighbor,” Laura said. “Especially if he’s as interested as you say.”

You pursed your lips, considering her comment, but the sudden and unexpected sound of your door opening sent both you and Laura jumping nearly ten feet into the air as you hurried away from the blinds as fast as humanely possible to take up some form of normalcy.

No, mom, of course we weren’t staring at Mr. Seo.

“Girls,” your mother inquired as she walked inside, and you prayed that your mother hadn’t caught the two of you taking sly peaks at Changbin outside, but she seemed completely ignorant. “I have a question for you.”

“Hmmm?” you inquired, innocently enough, trying to act like the position that you had forced yourself into on the bed was totally not uncomfortable.

“Changbin needs someone to watch Lucy tomorrow night, but your father and I already made plans,” she said. “But I told him you would be more than happy to come over and help him out.”

You winced when Laura elbowed you in the side, giving you one of those looks that you knew quite well from countless nights of barhopping as sophomores. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Laura snickered, but you payed her no attention as you hurried to close the door behind your mother’s retreating form, breathing a sigh of relief to hear her walk back down the stairs.

In all of your years of existence, never had you questioned the appropriateness of an outfit to wear to someone’s place to babysit.

“Fuck it,” you eventually decided, settling on regular, well-worn jeans and a college t-shirt.

After all, it wasn’t like Changbin was staying for very long. He claimed he had something to do at the office, and you would be all alone inside his house with only his kid for companionship.

Still, after your conversation with Laura from the previous afternoon, you couldn’t help but feel more mindful about how he might look at you, and you forced yourself to wear your most professional smile when you rang the doorbell to his house, counting slowly from one until he opened the door.

“Hi, Y/N,” Changbin said, and you tried not to blatantly check him out; although, you couldn’t help but linger on the tight fit of his shirt across his pecs.

“Hello,” you nearly whispered, cursing your hormones as you followed Changbin inside.

“I actually have something to tell you,” Changbin said, leading you into the living room so that you could sit down while entered the adjoining kitchen.

“Oh?” you queried, as politely as you could, waiting for him to return.

It didn’t take him long, and you found yourself sitting up a little straighter from where you had made yourself comfortable on the couch. “So, I actually found someone else to watch Lucy,” Changbin explained, coming around to land next to you on the couch with two glasses of wine. 

“You did?” you asked, surprised and taken-aback. 

Why were you here then?

As if he could read your thoughts, Changbin smirked. “Thirsty?”

“Sure,” you agreed, taking one of the glasses and bringing the rim up to your lips. “I’m sorry, I just thought you wanted me to watch her.”

“I did,” Changbin said, and he seemed contemplative as he sipped his own drink. “But then I kinda wanted you for something else.”

“Something else?” you repeated because your mind was spinning those simple words in a thousand different directions, and you were only able to settle on one likely outcome when Changbin’s hand dropped to your thigh, reminiscent of your first dinner together from several evenings ago. 

He suddenly moved in closer to you, allowing you to smell the subtle cologne that he was wearing. “You’ve been watching me,” he said, and you shivered, feeling both hot and cold at the same time as you looked at him.

“S-sir?”

“Don’t play coy,” Changbin continued, and you found yourself observing the way his throat bobbed as he drank. “I don’t mind the attention.”

“You don’t?” you replied, a rather useless question considering the circumstances, and Changbin took your glass and sat both alcoholic selections onto the side table.

“Why wouldn’t I like it?” he asked, tracing little nonsensical patterns on the covered part of your thigh. “You’re a very beautiful girl.”

What. The. Hell?!!

“Mr. Seo, I don’t think-”

“Y/N,” Changbin interrupted, and you were so frazzled and disjointed by the sharp grip he took on your chin, forcing eye-contact that was so intimate, you could feel yourself grow a little bit wetter. “I told you not to call me that.”

It was the only precursor you got before Changbin was delving in, gripping your chin firmly as he connected your lips in a deep, sensuous exchange that had you reeling from the sudden 180 degree turn that the night had taken. 

In one word: everything was rough. Teeth meeting teeth, and tongues rolling in a messy glide against one another. Wet and warm. Silky and smooth. It was everything you needed in a kiss to get your gears turning, feeling your pussy positively throbbing in response.

“That’s right,” Changbin eventually said when he pulled the two of you apart - very much still in control. “We shouldn’t ignore this tension between us.”

“No,” you eagerly agreed, diving in once more for another earth-shattering kiss that rocked you to your very bones, taking the initiative to crawl into his lap, grinding yourself shamelessly against the tight bulge in his jeans while your fingers dug their way into his thick, dark hair. 

“Eager,” Changbin whispered between feverish kisses, keeping your mouths locked together at all costs, even if that meant growing a little bit light-headed from losing too much oxygen.

But you couldn’t get enough of him, not after all this teasing and tension. 

You didn’t care anymore, consequences be damned, and there wasn’t a single part of you opposing his intentional touches, giving him enough space to unbutton your jeans before sliding one hand beneath the waistband of your panties. In response, you moaned into his mouth, bracing your hands against his shoulders as he found the delicate folds of your pussy.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” Changbin asked, and you were feverishly nodding, sweat forming at the top of your forehead, trying your best to hold back your loudest moans when he slid right in with little resistance, moving his fingers around the inside of your cunt, stretching and filling you in a way that you imagined was nothing compared to what the thick cock beneath you could do.

But you would take anything from him, savoring the glide of his fingers since you were practically drenching him in sticky arousal, jerking forward every so often when his thumb pressed down a little too hard against your clit.

All the while, you could feel yourself start to break apart from the heated contact between the two of you, aching and wanting for the release that the look in his eyes told you he had every intention of providing.

And you were enjoying every bit of the journey to get there, bathing in his attention, groaning when his fingers curled up just right to tease your g-spot, and grinding down against the erection confined tightly in his jeans. 

Everything was suddenly so much louder, the sounds of his palm smacking against your cunt, fingers gliding through wetness, and the joined harmony of your combined moans and grunts. 

It was a rapid uphill ascent into the clouds, and you could feel him start to move even faster, pulling against the fabric of your jeans, and there was hardly any time for your mind to truly comprehend what was happening. Lost in a sinful haze of lust and divine rapture, wanting nothing more than to just lose yourself in Changbin.

Except he wasn’t letting you simply drown in the pleasure he was giving you, tugging at your hair to bring you back to the present, to the final string keeping your orgasm just out of reach. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed,” Changbin growled into your ear, keeping one hand tight around your waist to stop your squirming as he continued plunging his thick fingers between the tight walls of your pussy. “I see you looking at me because I want you to look.”

You moaned at the explicit expression of his desires, closing your eyes and returning your head against his shoulder, hips titillating according to the way he moved his fingers inside of you. 

“Cum for me,” he said, and you were more than willing to let go of everything, including the moans you had been trying to hold back, filling the house with the loud raucous of your screams as your orgasm snapped and unleashed a molten hot thrill along your spine.

You were gasping for breath, returning from the highest peak of satisfaction, but Changbin hardly gave you anytime to recover before he was removing his hand from your jeans and forcing you into the floor.

“My turn,” he grunted, and the sound of his belt unbuckling triggered some semblance of rationale, and you were practically salivating over Changbin’s cock, eyeing the red bulbous mushroom head and wondering how deep you could take him. “Well?” Changbin prodded, grabbing the base of his thick erection to brush it across the pout of your lips. “Open wide.”

You whimpered, but obeyed, allowing your tongue to stick out just enough to taste the drop of precum leaking from the tip. It was bitter and unappealing, but since it was from Changbin, you couldn’t resist trying more of him, going further and further down until you felt him at the back of your throat.

Your jaw was already aching from the extension, and a distant thought had you thinking, damn, you were gonna be sore in the morning. But it was completely worth it to hear him moan from above you, fingers tightening in your hair as you allowed him to set the pace, rolling you up and down his cock, tongue sweeping the sides and tip and digging into the little slit where you discovered he was the most sensitive. 

At the same time, you were all but humping his leg, desperate to get off again as he used your mouth for his own personal cocksleeve, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, sending you gagging around his impossible length.

“You take cock like you were made for it,” he remarked, eyes glossing over in a way that had you feeling rather proud of your skills. 

It only lasted for a moment, and he abruptly held himself all the way down for one, two, three seconds until you were whining for him to let you free just long enough to take in another deep breath. 

“Finish me off,” he groaned, and you were working overtime to bring him to the edge, bobbing your head up and down the full expanse of his length, all gorgeous and velvety smooth skin. And you braced your hands against his knees, an anchor to reality, when he finally released down your throat, heavy and warm, causing you to nearly choke as you struggled to swallow every last drop.

“Good girl,” he whispered, petting your head softly as you whined and continued to rub yourself against him, jumping off the brink of orgasmic bliss right after him, allowing your head to fall down between his spread legs.

It was a quiet for a while as you both fought to catch your breath, but then he was moving again, rising from his position on the couch. 

You sat back on your heels at the jostling, whimpering when he stood over you with a menacing sneer, grabbing your face between his hands, forcing your gazes to meet somewhere in the middle even though you still couldn’t completely concentrate. But you were cognizant to at least understand his next words: “Lucy won’t be here tomorrow night, either.”

“Changbin,” you gasped, understanding the implications of his request and shivering at the effect they could still have on your worn-out body. 

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he whispered into your ear, keeping eye-contact as he brought his fingers still coated with your arousal into his mouth, sucking while you grew faint at the sight. Then, he pulled them free and knelt down to sear your lips together so that you could taste the riveting combination of your releases on his wicked tongue. 

You returned home that night in a daze, immediately heading for your room after assuring your mother that everything was totally fine with the babysitting, even if you probably appeared a little out of sorts. 

In the meantime, you landed on top of your bed with a sigh, opening your phone contacts to pull up Laura’s name, placing the call without any mind to the late hour.

She answered on the third ring with a curt grunt. “This better be good, Y/N.”

“Oh?” you replied with a nonchalant tone. “I thought you might be interested in hearing about my latest dick appointment.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. “You didn’t.”

“I did!”

“With your neighbor?”

You laughed at Laura’s shrill tone, rolling over onto your stomach with your feet dancing in the air behind you. “I totally sucked him off.” 

“Shit! How big is his cock?” Laura whispered over the phone as if anybody could possibly overhear your conversation. 

“Let’s just say he’s well-endowed.”

“You absolute slut!” Laura exclaimed. “Did he at least return the favor?”

“Oh, he’s a gentleman,” you explained. “He took care of me first.”

“Details!”

“He just fingered me,” you said, even as your mind sprinted with images and sensations; Changbin’s sultry gaze, defined muscles, and the burning desire he had planted deep in your core. 

“That’s hot though,” Laura said. “I can’t believe you actually did anything with him.”

“What? I told you he was sending me signals!”

“Yeah, but I was only halfway assuming that those signals might lead to his fingers in you!”

You couldn’t help yourself, laughing at Laura’s incredulous tone, and spending the next several minutes doing your absolute best to provide a heavily detailed play-by-play of your evening tryst with Changbin. 

“Lucky bitch,” Laura scoffed at the end of your long-winded tale. “I’d kill for someone to fuck me.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet...”

“Yet? Are you planning to go back to him?”

“Obviously,” you said. “There’s unfinished business that I need to take care of.”

“You think he wants to fuck you?”

“I think he wants to do a lot to me,” you purred, smirking at the sounds of Laura’s outlandish squeals from the other end.

Still, you didn’t think those explicit fantasies would come to fruition so soon. But the next night when you returned to Changbin’s house under the guise of babysitting his kid, there were no formalities between the two of you because you both wanted each other in a way that should be considered improper. 

Fortunately, you were tired of caring about other people’s opinions, and it only took Changbin a moment to pull you into his house before his lips were crushing against yours, holding you around the waist as he started working at your clothes.

If whiplash was a thing in moments like these, then you had it bad, trying to follow the taste of him as he backed you both into the bedroom, closing the door and enveloping you both in the gentle glow from the lamp.

“Get on the bed,” Changbin growled when he finally pulled away, reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt. You swallowed hard at the sight of his broad, toned upper form, stumbling backward along the floor, hopping on one leg to finish removing your jeans for him, leaving you completely naked as you lowered yourself onto the mattress. “Good girl,” Changbin cooed, and you shivered at the huskiness of his voice, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation as he blatantly traced the outline of his cock through his jeans.

“Changbin, please,” you panted, already so worked up from just kissing and feeling his hands all over your body that you were desperate for something more.

“What do you want, gorgeous?” he asked, walking slowly around to the front of the bed as you watched him with eager eyes.

“Want you to fuck me,” you said, heart thundering against your chest when he started working apart his belt, pulling down his jeans and boxers and allowing his thick cock to slap up against his abdomen, already so hard for you even though you had just started.

“Hands and knees,” Changbin ordered, and you were surprised by your quick compliance, supporting yourself on shaky limbs as you felt him climb on the bed behind you, tensing when the head of his cock grazed your wet opening. “Look at you,” Changbin rumbled, teasing you even more by running his fingers down your spine, allowing his other hand to reach around to grope your breast.

“Hurry,” you practically begged him, and it was like the metaphorical band had finally snapped, and you moaned when Changbin took a firm hold of your hips, manhandling you back into position. 

“Good girls say please,” he snarled, and your entire form light up at the abrupt command.

“P-please,” you stuttered, and there was an unholy line of curses that left your lips when he directed his cock inside, penetrating you so slowly that you could feel every inch of him until he was snug against your ass.

“Since you asked nicely,” Changbin chuckled, and you had never been so turned on before in your entire life, heart racing and blood pumping, bracing yourself against the mattress when he started thrusting, gentle at first, but then faster and faster as you egged him on, wanting him to go so hard that he split you in half around his cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, struggling to maintain any sort of grip on the headboard. 

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Changbin purred into your ear, sounding perfectly put-together despite the fact that he was literally drilling his cock into you. “All those guys you’ve fucked before, I would think your pussy wouldn’t be this tight.”

“You’re just too big,” you managed, crying out when he grazed a sensitive spot. 

“Oh? Is that why this little pussy is leaking so much?” Changbin asked, and you had no response for him, clearly fucked out of all rational thought as his hips slapped against yours in a bruising meeting of skin-on-skin. 

It was undeniable: you had never felt this full before...like Changbin’s cock was somehow reaching all the way to your guts, and you reached down to place a hand over your stomach, imagining feeling the bulge of his cock against the distended skin.

“How does daddy feel?” Changbin whispered into your ear, and if it was possible for him to literally destroy you, then it would be from that heavily suggestive question.

“So good,” you sniffled, tears falling inhibited, leaving your face just as wet as the place where he was crushing himself into you, repeating the same motion of leaving just the tip before re-entering you with added urgency, cock forcing its way between the slick walls of your cunt. 

It was a beautiful melodic song after that (or, perhaps, hard metal would be a much better genre), the rhythm of his hips rolling against your own, hard and then softer, bruising and fleeting, stuffing your pussy on every upstroke, holding you in place by his pure strength. 

You could feel that strength everywhere, the force of his cock squelching between your pulsating walls, the way you moved up and down the bed by his control, and, when you reached back with one hand to feel his arm, the flex of his biceps as his arms worked to move you however he pleased.

“What will your mother say, Y/N?” Changbin asked. “When she finds out that her daughter fucked the man next door?”

Your mother would absolutely lose her shit if she found out that you were willingly spreading your legs for a divorced 32-year old man who had a daughter you were meant to be babysitting. She would be even more taken aback to discover that you loved and craved every second of Changbin’s cock tearing you to pieces, stretching you so good that you imagined that you would still be gaping in the morning, desperate to have him fill you again. 

“Her little girl screaming like a slut for me,” Changbin hissed. “Say my name, Y/N.”

“C-Changbin,” you whimpered, feeling him roll to a slower pace, merely grinding his hips in circles as if teasing you for the answer.

You flinched and nearly cried when he smacked the fleshy part of your ass, trying to look back over your shoulder to see what you had done wrong. “Try again,” he said, giving you a meaningful look that your poor, fucked-out brain still managed to decipher; although, you were burning in your own skin at the thought of saying it out loud....

“Daddy!” you moaned, and Changbin suddenly reached down to catch a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and forcing your back into an even deeper arch. 

“That’s right,” he sneered. “And Daddy’s about to ruin this pussy, fuck it so full of my cum that you’ll still be feeling it when you go back home tonight to your parents and lie about what you’ve done.”

Your next moan was the loudest of the night, overwhelmed by the nasty things he was saying to you, feeling your orgasm gaining speed and traction the longer he kept fucking you, cock moving at a neck-break pace, and fingers wet and hurried over your clit.

The combined friction of his cock and fingers had you reeling, struggling to keep yourself up as he pummeled you into the mattress. Taking great liberties in the screams he was forcing out of you, realizing that if he angled his hips with one of your legs stretched higher around his hip, then he could somehow reach even deeper, kissing your cervix and threatening to steal the breath from your lungs. 

More and More. Faster and Faster. Until the breaking point was right under your nose...

The next thing you remember is a release that was so intense, you managed to black-out when it was all over, pussy fluttering around the distinct waves of pleasure, barely coherent as Changbin continued chasing his own release until he fulfilled his obscene promise to you. 

Three Weeks Later

You had gotten awfully good at keeping Changbin a secret - a dirty and scandalous whisper at that. 

For a while, your mother questioned your insistence on going over to your neighbor’s house to babysit, especially considering your history of being less than willing to interact with children.

“She’s not like most kids,” you lied, waiting for your mother to relent before grabbing whatever bag you needed consisting of your overnight clothes, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible when you walked over to Changbin’s house.

Your mother watched you, at first, standing on the porch as if ensuring that you made it the dozen or so feet separating your yard from that of your neighbor’s. Eventually, she gave up on trying to catch you doing something you weren’t supposed to, but you still kept up appearances, ringing the doorbell and taking a few steps to the side to leave enough room for the screen to rotate on its hinges, offering you the irresistible view of Changbin standing there in all his glory. 

“You’re early,” he remarked; although he seemed to take great pleasure in seeing you as early as possible.

“Is that okay?” you asked with a knowing look, and Changbin chuckled while giving you his most arrogant smirk. 

In return, you smiled back at Changbin, watching him open the door just a little bit wider in invitation.

It was all you needed before surrendering yourself to whatever delicious and mind-blowing ecstasy awaited on you the other side.  

Summer of 69 indeed.