#is it just me or is this seriously giving spring marriage

[junebluues]

WE ARE SO ENABACK

[rcmclachlan]

Tommy Kinard, from a long line of Gloucester fishermen. Hence his penchant for ill-fitting jeans, flannel, and affection via bitchiness.

He and Evan are sitting on the little bench outside The Causeway waiting for their chowder—best in the country, hands down—when Evan, who's been quietly studying boats in various stages of winter wrapping across the road, suddenly asks, "Why did you leave here? It's awesome. The downtown area looks like something out of a postcard—"

"It does not," Tommy interjects. "Rockport's downtown, on the other hand..."

"—and the beaches feel like real beaches, even if they do smell like shit."

Tommy tilts his head back and inhales the heavy, but comfortingly familiar stench of low tide. "I left because the town's unofficial motto used to be 'Come for the heroin, stay because you've developed a crippling heroin addiction.'"

Unimpressed, Evan nudges him with an elbow, then jumps to his feet to get the door for a family of six who will be waiting at least a month for a table big enough to accommodate them to open up.

The Causeway is approximately the size of an elevator car. Despite its outward appearance, it's relatively new; it hadn't been there when Tommy was a kid. The little cinema next door had been, though, and he feels a surge of pride for the Williams family that it's still going after all this time.

"No, but seriously." Evan hunkers back down next to him. "Why'd you leave?"

"Why'd you leave Hershey?" Tommy counters.

The corner of Evan's mouth twitches knowingly. He's got Tommy's number in a way no one else does. "You know why I left. But you could've stayed here and done anything. Massachusetts might be even more progressive than California—I mean, it was the first state to legalize gay marriage. Plus, I know there's an air base nearby."

"Hanscom," Tommy says. "It belongs to the Air Force and I wouldn't have been caught dead joining them."

Evan gives him a dubious look. "But the Army was okay?"

"Don't you know, Evan? The Army is for real men," he says with a grin, putting an emphasis on it so Evan knows just whose words he's parroting. "The Air Force is for fa—"

"Yeah, okay, I got it," Evan says loudly, cutting a furtive glance at the people on the other bench, who are too busy looking at their phones and not talking to each other to pay attention to any casual homophobia. "You're gonna get us run out of town."

"Please, it's Gloucester. If anything, they'll probably join in."

Evan deflates a little, pouting, and Tommy is helpless against the urge to press a kiss to his hair. What Evan doesn't understand is that Massachusetts is like an impressionist painting: beautiful if you're standing back far enough to see the whole of it, but get closer and it's as ugly as anywhere else.

"My point was," Tommy continues, "I left because I needed something more than what this place could give me, same as you. And also I needed to be somewhere with a spring wind chill above -10°."

"You bitch if the temps hit above 70," Evan points out.

"I also bitch if the day ends in Y." Tommy shrugs. "Complaining is the official state sport, especially when it comes to the weather."

Checking his phone for the time, Evan heaves an impatient sigh and drops his chin onto Tommy's shoulder. He's too used to LA's food trucks to last a minute here. "There's so much here, though. Like, Worcester looked fun."

Tommy winces. "It's pronounced 'Woo-ster'."

Wide-eyed, Evan lifts his head. "You're shitting me."

"I shit you not," Tommy says. "And Worcester's okay. It's big, though. And a pain in the ass to navigate."

"What's beyond Worcester?"

"Nobody knows." He coughs out a 'fuck' when Evan buries an elbow in his gut.

Laughing, Evan echoes, "'Fahk.' There's the accent I've been hoping to hear. I mean, heeyah. Try and hide it all you want, Kinard, I know what you are."

"Okay, Hershey, I dare you to say 'water' like a normal person," Tommy can't help but tease. "Remember, there's no U or D in it."

Eyes sparkling, Evan presses close with a shit-eating grin and says slyly, "I'll show U where to put a D."

Before Tommy can shove him off the bench for that one, the door to the restaurant opens and a head pops out. "Order for Kinard?"

"Saved by the clams," Evan chortles, standing up when Tommy goes to grab the bag from the kid. He gives a long, luxurious stretch, and Tommy can't help but let his eyes be drawn to Evan's belly when his shirt rides up. "Where do you want to eat? We could go sit down by the beach. There's a big dahlia garden display there."

Huh. They still do that? That's actually kind of sweet, but Tommy has plans and they don't involve the public.

"If you don't mind a bit of light trespassing, we'll head up to Mussel Point. The view's well worth it."

Intrigued, Evan lifts his brows. "Trespassing? Gee, Tommy, you take me to all the best places."

That snark is nowhere to be found half an hour later when Evan's full of clam chowder and getting ruthlessly jacked off while the ocean bays at his feet, but Tommy doesn't call him on it.

[livingformintyoongi]

here's my request:

jimin and yn being exes and meeting again at their best friends wedding (the groom is jimin's best friend and the bride is yn's)

their friends know that they still love eachother, so they make them sit together, but they bicker for the whole celebration.

when it's time to leave, she doesn't have a ride home, and jimin offers himself to take her to her place. Once they get there, she asks him if she wants to go upstairs, to have a final drink.

They talk about their break up, and when he's about to leave, he kisses yn and have make up sex against the kitchen counter 💥

Just a taste

a/n: First of all, thanks for making the request for Jimin, it's my first time writing about him and that makes me very excited 😀, secondly, sorry for the delay, the request ended up being much longer than I thought it would be. Warnings: A littly angst, Jimin is a sweetheart, exes 2 lovers, soft sex (there was no specification on this, so I did it as I thought it went in the situation), reader has problems with overthinking the future too much, unprotected sex, sex without prior lubrication (please don't do this, you could hurt yourself). wc: 5.3k

"Stop looking at me" you whispered in annoyance, not deigning to look at Jimin.

"Stop thinking I'm looking at you" he whispered as he rolled his eyes and folded his arms, "Not everyone revolves around you, you know that?".

"why don't you shut up and go to hell?" you snorted, crossing your legs and watching as your best friend gave the first waltz of the night next to her now husband and best friend of your ex.

"I've been there" Jimin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Don't you think it's ironic that you're asking me when you're the one who took me there."

"Fuck you" you got up from your chair, walking towards the exit door. You needed a drink of alcohol, or maybe a breath of fresh air, either sounded good at the moment. Committing murder at your best friend's marriage was stooping too low.

You took advantage of the fact that most of the guests were too busy watching Soomin and Taehyung dance and stole a glass of champagne from one of the tables that had been abandoned. You downed the drink in one gulp and then abandoned it on another empty table. 

It was unfair that everyone was enjoying the party and you had to put up with your idiot ex.

When you opened the door that led to the gigantic garden that the event center had you were surprised to notice that it was much colder than when you arrived. It had only been a few hours, but it was enough to set foot outside to make your skin crawl. And that it's still spring, you thought to yourself, walking towards one of the benches that were under a roof covered with vines.

It felt good to be away from Jimin, from his rude comments, from the scent of his perfume, from his fluffy lips, oh, you still remembered what a good kisser he was. The two of you could spend hours just giving each other lazy kisses and discreet touches on your clothes.

You took a seat on the bench, letting your head fall back, letting out the air you were holding in. You watched as the smoke drifted out of your mouth until the whitish cloud was completely gone. You wanted to go home, but you also didn't want to abandon your friend on her special day, Jimin was an idiot, but he was right in saying that not everything revolves around you.

"Y/N?"

You almost screamed in shock when you saw Soomin standing next to you, staring at you with those big, bright eyes that could convince anyone to do anything she wanted. That same look was the one she gave you when she asked you to be her maid of honor.

"Minnie, what are you doing here?" you sat up straight, smiling slightly when you saw that Taehyung had given her his jacket to cover his bare arms from the cold. He seriously was a great guy. "You should be with your husband dancing... or doing whatever it is couples do at their wedding."

You couldn't help but laugh as his cheeks flushed slightly at how you had called Taehyung.

"I came to find you, it's so cold out here" she walked to your side, taking a seat on the same bench as you. It was hard to make herr dress not use up all the available space. "I saw that Jimin was alone at the table and I got worried."

"Ah, Minnie, you're so sweet" you hummed with a smile, taking her left arm and kissing her cheek smilingly, "Don't worry about me, it's your day, enjoy it."

"I want my best friend to enjoy it too" this time it was she who smiled at you and took your arm, resting her head on your shoulder, "I'm so happy, but I'd be even happier if you were too."

You almost shrieked as you listened to her. You had made too many bad choices in your life, being friends with Soomin wasn't one of them.

"You should watch what you say, at this rate I'll end up falling in love with you and want to kidnap you from your wedding," you both laughed, she stroked your arm and you just looked up at the ceiling, watching the vines hang gracefully. You liked this place.

"Let's go inside, I don't want you to get sick" Soomin turned to look at you, barely smiling. 

You couldn't say no to her, so as soon as she got up from the bench, you stood up and followed her silently, hoping you wouldn't run into Jimin again.

"Y/N, honey!" shouted Taehyung with a smirk, raising his hand and shaking it so you could both see where he was.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as you saw Soomin's look change completely at the sight of him. You wanted something like that too.

"I'm glad you guys are back" Taehyung said as soon as you were in front of him. Yes, just him, you preferred to completely ignore Jimin's existence. "It's almost time for your dance." 

"Who's going to dance?" you asked curiously, looking towards the dance floor.

"You and Jimin, who else?" laughed Taehyung, grabbing Jimin's shoulders and pulling him closer to you. "You're the second most important people in the place, obviously you must dance together."

You were regretting earlier. Taehyung was a lousy person, he deserved the worst in the world.

"What the fuck, Taehyung?" you heard Jimin say in a low voice. He sounded even more annoyed than you.

"Come on, don't be shy, it's just a dance, no one's going to die because of that" he gave Jimin's back a few small pats. "Besides, it's our wedding, you should, I don't know, cooperate a little."

And with that said, you were both dragged onto the dance floor, not before you elbowed him in the side and he stomped on your foot.

"What are you still doing here?" asked Jimin, walking past you to the parking lot.

"What do you care?" you snorted, hugging yourself as you felt a strong wind current crash against you. It was barely three in the morning and you already felt like you could turn into a block of ice. In your good years you could last until six in the morning, snow and all. You were out of practice. 

Jimin turned to look at you, watching your body tremble slightly. He noticed how you looked down the street, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you checked your cell phone.

"You didn't come by car?" This time he turned completely around, walking towards you. Just because he couldn't stand to be in the same place as you didn't mean he'd leave you here stranded all alone in the middle of the night. He wasn't that much of a psychopath. 

"Some idiot crashed my car and told the police it was my fault" you muttered, not taking your eyes off the street, "they took my license a year ago" you snorted as you remembered the fight you had to put up to get them to believe you. It didn't do any good.

"Are you still living in the same apartment?" Jimin started unbuttoning his suit jacket, getting close enough to be able to put it on your shoulders.

You turned to look at him, frowning, why was he asking you that? Worse, why was he handing you his jacket?

"Uhm, yeah, I still live where I always do, why do you ask?" you took his jacket, trying to make it cover as much skin as possible. You didn't want to talk to him, but you wouldn't refuse his help either. The sack wasn't to blame for anything.

"I'll give you a ride" he pointed to his car with his head, "it's better than standing around waiting for a car to come by, and less dangerous than calling an uber and having, I don't know, some creepy guy touch you and want to take advantage of you."

You glanced down the street again. You bit your bottom lip slightly, trying to think through your answer. You didn't want to be alone with Jimin, but he was right, it was too dangerous, especially at this hour. The way to your house wasn't exactly short, at least you had forty minutes, in an uber you could only go alone with the driver. You'd be lying to say that the idea didn't scare you even a little bit.

"Fine" you muttered, watching him walk towards a big black car. It looked pretty expensive, he'd surely been given the promotion he'd worked so hard to earn. It wasn't like you cared either.

You hurried to his side, not taking your eyes off your feet. You wanted to get home soon.

"Here" he whispered close to your ear, opening the passenger door for you.

For a second you thought your heart stopped and your lungs had decided to stop working. Luckily for you, it was just your imagination.

"Thank you" you nodded quickly, getting into the car and grabbing the seatbelt. Jimin had shut the door as soon as you were comfortable in the seat.

You took a breath, feeling your body temperature rise a little at a time. The car was much warmer than outside.

"Ready," Jimin said once he was inside. You watched as he got the car started and prepared to drive, "You can sleep on the way home, I don't mind," he murmured, resting his right elbow on the back of your chair and leaning back to look at the parking lot.

You had to pretty much resist the temptation to watch his arms flex. 

"Thank you," you murmured, settling in next to the window. You'd a thousand times rather pretend to sleep than look Jimin in the face as he drove. You wanted to avoid awkward silences.

You closed your eyes and let the warm air from the heater hit your face and relax you enough to fall asleep. 

When you opened your eyes you were only a few minutes away from your apartment. You straightened up in your chair and gave a big yawn. You checked the time, it was only three fifty in the morning. You couldn't believe you had slept fifty minutes.

You lifted your head, seeing Jimin's seat empty, you looked all around the inside of the car, and no matter how hard you looked there was no sign of him. You saw your window, feeling your heart race as you saw that Jimin had parked the car in front of your favorite German food store. 

You had to bite your tongue to keep from squealing.

It wasn't long before Jimin came out of the store with a large yellow bag in his hands and the car keys in the other. A slight blush adorned his cheeks when he looked up and noticed you staring at him.

You had forgotten how easy it was to make him blush.

He walked to the car door, offering you the bag once he was inside. 

"Here," he murmured, looking anywhere else but at you. 

"Why did you buy me this?" you took the bag, opening it and looking at the food inside. It was your favorite food.

"You said you were hungry in your sleep" he started the car again, heading straight for your apartment. You couldn't help but watch him the rest of the way. 

"Thanks for giving me the ride" you bowed slightly, looking at Jimin. You didn't understand why he had escorted you to the door of your apartment, but you didn't want to discuss it either, you thought it was unnecessary.

"It's nothing, I wouldn't feel at ease knowing that something bad might have happened to you" he nodded awkwardly, scratching his neck.

You turned your back on him, putting your password on the door. The click of the lock broke the silence that had fallen between the two of you. You opened the door slightly, pausing for a few seconds. Memories of the day you broke up came rushing back, causing your heart to clench to the point where it became impossible not to wince. 

You didn't want to regret again about something to do with Jimin.

"Don't you want to come in for a drink?" you turned around, watching as Jimin's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected you to extend an invitation after everything that happened at the marriage. "I just... I want to return the favor."

He nodded quickly, rubbing his hands down the sides of his pants in a futile attempt to push away the anxiety. He couldn't believe you were seriously inviting him into your home after all this time. 

"Come in" you murmured, entering your house with the sound of his footsteps behind you. It had been years since you had invited a man into your home. The last time was when you broke up with Jimin.

You left the bag of food on your kitchen counter and walked over to the cabinet that held your collection of yellow tulip plates. You left two of them next to the bag so you could empty the food inside.

Jimin, on his side, was too distracted looking at the new decoration of your house. The last time he set foot in this place all your walls were painted in a pastel yellow color, full of pictures of abstract paintings and strange photographs that he never fully understood. He also remembered that you had a large collection of pictures of him on your TV cabinet. Both the furniture and the TV had been completely changed for much more modern objects, not to mention that the cheerful paint on your walls had now gone to a beige color, and the abstract art on your walls were now just pictures and paintings of the world's most famous cities. He didn't want to think too much about the fact that his pictures were nowhere to be seen anymore.

"Do you want a beer?" you asked aloud, your head completely stuck in your cooler.

Jimin responded with an affirmative sound, too distracted noticing the differences in the place. Somehow he felt it looked pretty good on you, but that uneasiness that something didn't quite fit the mood was still swirling around in his head.

"Okay" you muttered to yourself, looking at both plates. You couldn't remember when was the last time you ate with someone here, you couldn't even remember when you had last eaten at home. You hated being here. "I've already served the plates, are you coming?".

He nodded as he walked over to you, taking a seat in front of the vacant plate. He felt a little embarrassed to realize that you now knew he still remembered your favorite dish, was that too strange?

"It's so yummy" you moaned contentedly once you tried a bite, "it's been so long since I've eaten this, I've been so busy."

"At least that explains why you're so thin" he murmured, taking a bite of the food into his mouth. He hadn't tasted this food in a while either. He missed it more than he thought he would.

"I only lost ten pounds, it's not for you to exaggerate" you rolled your eyes, stirring your food. You weren't sure how to bring up the subject of your breakup, but you knew it was the last chance you would have to clear things up.

You were both silent for a few minutes, both of you aware of the tension in the room, but neither of you were able to take the first step and break it. You were afraid of opening yourself even more to him, and Jimin was afraid that you would reopen the wound you had left him five years ago. 

In the end the only person who was able to take the first step was him. As always.

"What happened to us?" he whispered, staring at his plate. You could tell his lips were moving slowly as he chewed his food.

What had happened to you? Even you weren't sure about that. With Jimin things had always been easier; he knew what you wanted without you telling him, he knew how to read your gestures, he knew your tastes, he loved everything about you, inside and out, the good and the bad. Jimin was the best boyfriend you ever had in your life, and he probably would have been the boyfriend any 20-year-old girl would have wanted. So what had happened to you?

"I've been wondering ever since you broke up with me," he set his fork aside. His plate was now empty, but he still wasn't able to take his gaze off of it. "Did I do something wrong? Was I too persistent? Did I not show you that I loved you enough? Did I not give you enough?" he let out a sigh, letting his back fall against the back of his chair, "I know it's been five years, but I still can't figure out what my mistake was."

You tried to swallow the mouthful in your mouth, but the lump in your throat wasn't making it easy. You wanted to sort out the ideas in your head a bit before answering him. He probably still hated you, you wanted him to, you hated yourself for saying the things you said to him, for treating him the way you did. 

"Don't try to find the answer in you" you set your plate aside, knowing you would be unable to continue eating in the state you were in, "it wasn't you who did the wrong things, it was me." You took a breath, taking all the strength you could muster to look Jimin in the face. You wanted him to notice how sincere your apology was. "You were... you were one of the best things that ever happened to me, and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret leaving you the way I did, or leaving you in the first place."

"You regret it?" the look on Jimin's face finally lifted and confronted yours. The lump in your throat grew even tighter. "That's no reason to have kicked me out of your house and your life without any explanation and without letting me decide about it, you didn't even give me a chance to tell you what I thought! You blocked my number, you didn't answer when I knocked on the door, you avoided me at all costs" his fists clenched slightly, "I deserved an explanation, just one reason, no matter how stupid it was, would have been enough for me to decide if I wanted to fight for what was ours or just let you go and find my own way."

Making eye contact with Jimin became increasingly difficult as his words became stakes that dug into your heart. You knew he would hold a grudge, but to hear it from his mouth, to hear it in his voice, that was another level, and you weren't sure if you could get through it without bursting into tears midway through.

"I know I owe you an explanation" you tried to say it firmly, you wanted to sound sure of what you were saying, but it was hard when Jimin was in front of you staring at you, "that's why I asked you to come in, I needed to clear things up."

"Well, go ahead, tell me what happened" he folded his arms, turning his body towards you.

"I was afraid" you mumbled, lightly burying your nails into the skin of your fingers, "We had been together for four years, you were all I knew until then, I wasn't sure if that was what I wanted in my life, I didn't want to continue to be with you and live in fear that at some point in our lives we might just stop loving each other" by this point you are no longer even able to look him in the eyes, or even his face. Your eyes stung and the urge to vomit was getting bigger and bigger, "I didn't want our relationship to end up like some sort of worn out marriage, where both parties are horn to other people, where you're not even able to remember the good memories anymore, and I know it sounds stupid, but I was young, and I had a great imagination, and I just.... " you took a breath, letting your head fall back to stop the tears from coming out of your eyes, "I wanted to keep our relationship like it was back then, I thought that maybe, if we broke up before everything was ruined, we would still be able to look back and not forget the beautiful thing we had, and you don't know how much I regret doing that because now I know that all of that was just my mind trying to make a problem out of nothing because of some stupid insecurity, and because of that I lost you, and you were really the only good thing I had up until then."

"Okay, wait a minute, calm down a little," he said in a soft voice, rising from his chair and taking your shoulders. As soon as you felt his hands on you, you burst into tears. "Hey, it's okay, don't cry" he pulled you close to his chest, allowing you to cry on his shirt, not caring if it was stained or not.

"I'm so sorry" you whispered, clinging to his waist as if your life depended on it, "I know I was stupid, God, I said such horrible things to you, I was so cruel, I didn't even think that about you, I just thought... maybe if I acted like a bitch to you you would think badly of me and it would make it easier to forget me".

"I never forgot you" he murmured over your head, gently kissing your scalp, "and I don't think I ever will."

You awkwardly wiped away your tears, pulling away from his chest long enough to see his face, "Really?"

He nodded, cupping your cheek and wiping away the tears you had let out a few seconds ago, "I remember absolutely everything. How you loved to sleep cuddled up to me, or how you loved to walk down the soap aisle and smell each one to guess which one I bought" he left a kiss on your forehead, not letting go of your cheeks, "I also remember how you always kept an instant camera on your nightstand so you could capture my face as I slept; I remember how always after you did that you would touch each of my features and leave kisses on them" this time he kissed your cheek and his hands went down your shoulders until they stopped at the level of your waist, "I also remember how you liked to take your time kissing me, and that you were completely incapable of fucking without having a long kissing session before". You closed your eyes as you felt Jimin's forehead rest against yours. You could feel his nose pressing against yours gently, and his lips were so close that every time you moved them you could feel them brush against yours. "But there is one thing that no matter how hard I try, I am unable to remember."

"What one thing?" you whispered, leaning closer to him. 

"Your taste" caressed your lower back, pulling on you just enough so that both breasts were stuck together. 

"It's okay," you nodded, licking your lips, "that can easily be fixed.”

And you kissed him, and, oh my god, you really wouldn't ever regret that.

You wrapped your arms around Jimin's neck, pulling him to you, trying to make the space between you practically nil. You needed to feel him close, you needed your body and mind to assimilate the fact that it wasn't a complete stranger who was in front of you, it was Jimin, your Jimin, the same Jimin with whom you had your first time, with whom you almost got to live in the same house, the same Jimin who helped you follow your dream of being a photographer without thinking about what others would think. He was the only person you had come to love, and you had finally gotten to have him back.

Jimin gripped your waist tightly, sitting you down on the kitchen counter.

It could be years, but Jimin would never tire of kissing you.

With slightly trembling hands you began to unbutton his shirt, needing to feel his skin against yours as soon as possible. Jimin, on the other hand, was concentrating on pulling your bridesmaid dress up to your waist. He couldn't help but barely open his eyes to see your underwear. He couldn't help but let out a groan when he saw that they were your favorite color.

Once you managed to remove his shirt you pulled it off as far as you could, letting your hands roam along his chest. You roamed over every part of his torso that had been exposed, stopping at his lower back so you could caress his dimples. You loved them so much.

"Lift your hips a little" he whispered in your ear, lowering his hands from your waist to your hips.

You quickly obeyed, leaning up just a little, just enough so that Jimin could remove your underwear. You took the opportunity to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

Jimin tossed your underwear somewhere in the room, hastily nipping at your neck and shoulders as his fingers neared your center.

You almost cried out when his fingers brushed your clit. It had been months since you had been with a man, which was already surprising considering how sexually active your life had been during the time you were with Jimin. There was practically no day when you didn't have sex. You had been out of practice, and that made you much more sensitive to his touch.

Your hands, trembling from the constant spasms that Jimin's fingers were causing you against your entrance and clit, focused on pulling down Jimin's pants and boxers, smiling internally as you heard him let out a moan as he felt his cock spring free.

You couldn't help but take it in your hands and fiddle with it. Jimin had the most beautiful cock you had ever seen.

"I want you inside" you whispered, making your head back to give Jimin more accessibility. "Now."

Jimin gave you a quick glance, his fingers still fiddling with your clit, massaging and tugging it to his liking, "Now? But-"

"Never mind, I want it now" you insisted, grinding your hips against his, eliciting a moan from him, "I missed five years of this, by this point it's a necessity."

"God, you haven't changed at all" he chuckled softly, taking his cock in his free hand to guide it to your entrance.

He moved the head of his member all over your entrance, sometimes going past it and taking advantage of rolling your clit. You could only respond to him with little moans, gasps and movements of your hips.

"Just shove it in" you grunted, pressing Jimin's head on your neck.

Jimin scoffed softly, starting to push his cock into you. This time it was both of you who screamed.

You really missed this, even if it caused a burning in your pussy from not being lubricated enough, feeling Jimin again made that burning even exciting. You missed him so much.

"You're still just as tight as ever" he grunted into your shoulder, trying not to move so as not to cause you some kind of pain.

You had no interest in holding on. You'd finally been able to have Jimin inside you again, you'd make the most of every fucking second.

"I'm fine," you murmured, grinding your hips against his, "so stop torturing me and move."

"You sure?" he pulled away slightly, watching your face. You couldn't help but feel your heart race at the sight of Jimin's excited face, with his fluffy glossy lips and misty eyes… he looked like an angel.

"More than sure" you nodded quickly, kissing his face.

You almost drew blood on his back after he delivered the first lunge.

He was quite slow at first, his lunges were slow but steady, he would take care to pull his cock almost all the way out, only to bury it in your pussy with a lunge. It wasn't until he felt you were sufficiently lubricated that he began to increase the speed of his lunges.

And it felt like heaven to you.

It might have been 5 years, but Jimin still remembered perfectly what points to touch to bring you to the top in just a few minutes. Or at least that's what you thought after he hit your G-spot directly as soon as his onslaught started to get stronger.

You moaned quite loudly when he touched that spot.

"Your breasts are so cute" he hummed contentedly once he removed the sleeves of your dress and let them fall down until they freed your breasts, "so round and soft, I love them" he murmured, bringing his lips to them and leaving messy kisses around your nipples.

By this point you barely understood what he was saying.

"It feels so good" you whispered between gasps, resting your hands on the counter, leaning your chest closer to his lips, "so fucking good".

"Shit" Jimin grunted, resting his head on your shoulder, "how could you possibly be so tight?" he groaned softly, holding your hips so he could increase the speed of his onslaught, "it feels even better than I remembered."

You nodded awkwardly, using one of your hands to wrap around his neck and kiss him. Unlike the kiss you gave each other at the beginning, this one was much messier. It was all desperate tongues and teeth clashing against teeth.

"Faster" you sighed against his lips, squealing as you felt Jimin grab your waist and lift you off the counter, pressing his body to yours and allowing himself to increase the speed of his onslaught. Your whole body trembled as he used his fingers to pull on your clit as his cock slammed into your G-spot with force.

"I feel so close" he whispered, gritting his teeth as he felt his cock twist inside you. You felt so warm, wet and tight that it was almost impossible not to climax so quickly.

"M-me too," you gripped his shoulders, closing your eyes tightly, "Fuck, I seriously didn't remember you being so good."

Jimin replied with a chuckle, lifting you off the counter and pressing you against the kitchen wall. You groaned as you felt the cold crash against your back. "You still have a weakness for fucking against a wall?"

You didn't reach to answer him as a wave of pleasure built up in your body and was released the instant Jimin thought to press you against the cold wall of your kitchen. Honestly, you couldn't remember the last time you had come this way.

You moaned loudly as you felt Jimin's onslaught continue to get faster and messier. Your pussy burned from how sensitive it was.

"I-I cum" he growled in your ear, clinging to your waist and letting his seed fill your insides.

You were both silent for a few moments, trying to slowly come back to reality.

Jimin's gaze was glued to the junction of his cock with your pussy, watching as a mixture of his cum with your juices dripped to the floor. He couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

"Sorry, I'll get something to clean the floor and-".

"No," you murmured, clinging to him with arms and legs, just as a sloth would cling to its branch, "Just…can we stay like this a little longer?"

"You want me to hold you against the wall?" he frowned, slightly confused. His legs would kill him the next day, but he was willing to do it if that's what you wanted.

"No" you rolled your eyes, looking Jimin in the eyes, "I want to feel you inside me, just a little more" you kissed his bare shoulder, marking a path from his shoulder to his jaw, "My room is the last door on the right. Let's stay there for a while, until tomorrow, please."

Jimin let a smile grow on his face at hearing that you would let him stay at your place tonight. The idea that this meant a second chance for you made his heart pound. He wondered if you could feel it now that your head was attached to his chest.

"Okay, let's go to your room" he whispered, leaving a chaste kiss on your crown of your head, "then let me take care of the mess we left, it was partly my fault."

"Since you insist…" you laughed softly, letting Jimin carry you to your certain in his arms.

You missed that feeling so much. You hoped and prayed this time you wouldn't ruin it.

Masterlist.

[starryhutcherson]

clapton davis fic where hes just like, super flirty and its really cute and the reader is oblivious to this but eventually clapton is like "damn it why cant you get the hint" so he opens up to the reader?&;&:& tysmm

━━ UNSUBTLE SUBTILITY

'୧ ‧₊ pairing: clapton davis x reader warnings: swearing, brief depictions of blood word count: 2500+ ⋆ ✩‧₊

The presence of Spring in Grizzly Lake brought a lot of things; including sporadic bursts of heaven-yellow sunlight, greenery spiraled across branches of previously barren tree skeletons, and, most importantly for students of Grizzly Lake High School, the promise of the Spring Fling Formal that was set to occur in the midst of May. 

For Clapton, this prom meant one thing; achieving his goal that’s been looming over him since freshman year — ask you out. Theoretically it’s a simple process, but if it was truly as easy as it sounds it would have occurred the very moment his eyes landed on your figure that first day in beginner spanish. 

You were the embodiment of perfection, punctuated through your gleaming smile that enraptured anyone in a ten mile radius, and the way the sun seemed to spread across the expanse of your cheeks, soaking you in the rays of heaven itself. Clapton was about ready to propose that day, and he didn’t even know your name. 

Now, roughly two years later, he was still amidst the same dilemma, the one in which he actually had to do the asking-out part. He was sure by now you would have picked up on his inherently obvious attempts to entice you, but you remained oblivious, so he decided he’d have to fully commit if he wanted to capture your attention. The art of unsubtle subtility, if you will. 

And so, forty three minutes into the depths of an agonizingly dull pre-calculus lesson, he confidently taps your shoulder with a fractionally tense hand, and indulges the tug on his heartstrings when you turn around, framed by the delicate glow of mid-morning spring that he adores so much. 

“Something wrong, Clapton?” Your voice cleaves through the classroom ambience of idle chatter and textbook pages being flipped. He flashes a boyish smile in hopes to flutter your heart in the same way you flutter his. 

“Do you get any of these questions?” 

“Yeah, they’re not too bad,” you reply, offering an ephemeral that renders his throat tight. 

He glanced down momentarily at his worksheet, adorned in scrawls and scribbles, yet lacking a single legible answer. His vision trains up back to you though, as it always does. He thought you’d easily detect the unspoken question for your help, but you remained stationary in your seat, as if waiting for him to say it. He couldn’t tell if you were genuinely that heedless, or if you were toying with him. Cat and mouse. 

“Seriously? When did they even teach us all this?”

You shrug mindlessly, and a lock of hair shifts from its position on your shoulder. He’d give anything to rope his fingers through it. “A while back. Why, you need some help?” 

Yes. He’d like your help, your compassion, your hand in marriage…

“Wanna walk me through it?” He tosses you a hopeful expression, and you answer back with a simple nod, sliding your chair along the cheap linoleum floor with a scrape, until the pair of you are sharing his desk, impossibly close. 

Your velvet voice is stringing sentences right down the expanse of his spine, though your attempts to help him understand logarithmic differentiation were ultimately futile— how was he supposed to concentrate on anything when he could feel your words blooming on his skin? See every freckle and divot etched into your face? He could taste his own heartbeat as it melded against his throat.

“So, this helps to avoid complications like the product rule and the quotient rule when— Clapton?”

He cocks his head up, trying to ignore the swell in his stomach when he hears the way his name sounds braided between your sentences, it suits your voice so well.

“Yeah? What’s up?” 

“Are you even listening?”  

Shit, no he absolutely wasn’t. How could he? Your proximity allowed him to see you. Like, properly see you. 

“Yeah. Totally. Logaramic thingyation,” he murmurs with overt certainty, and a puppylike grin. 

You snicker. “Couldn’t even get the name right?” 

He’s internally collapsing, though he manages to force some words out of his struggling brain. 

“Hard to think when you’re here.” He doesn’t dare sever the eye contact between you, hoping to hone the tension as long as possible, until he shatters you. His lopsided grin shrinks in a moment of brevity; you’re so close and he can smell you and your very essence. He’s sure that his ulterior motive is conveyed, through the way his eyes explore the breadth of your figure, never leaving, never faltering— yet to his pure irritation, all he gets is a blank expression and a confused chuckle. 

“Why is that?” You ask, and he wants to grab you by your shoulders and shake you. Are you really that dense? Your face is about as expressive as a rock, and you seem not even partially affected by the flirty wink he sent your way moments prior. 

“You’re kidding, right? Come on.” He fires back, raising a brow with a daring smirk. He wants you to inquire. You don’t. He realizes that trying to get you to take a fucking hint was about as impossible as teaching him calculus. 

You force out an awkward laugh that makes his skin crawl with defeat, but he doesn’t back down. “Come on what?” 

He refrains from the urge to say “me”, and instead huffs a sharp exhale through his nose. He’s moments away from spouting some lame compliment when the shrill cry of the bell interrupts his train of thought, and a tide of students eject eagerly from their seats and spill out into the corridor for lunch. 

Your friend approaches the desk with a quirked brow, reaching for your arm and mumbling something into your ear that’s intelligible to Clapton, tugging on you to try and steer you away from the classroom. And from him. You nod in response to her comment, before momentarily glancing back over to Clapton.

“I gotta go, Clapton. See you soon though, see you in History!” You send him a parting wave with a gentle flick of your wrist, before turning off and disappearing down the long stretch of corridor beside the classroom. His eyes follow you for as long as possible before your figure is consumed by the wandering horde of students, and he lets a grumbly sigh escape his parted lips before he packs up his belongings. This was going to be harder than he anticipated. 

*:･.・゜゜・

Clapton’s second attempt at alluring you resulted in more or less the same outcome. He’d entered the cafeteria, instantly bathed in the overwhelming odor of lysol and lard. His prior plan was to grab a doctor pepper, maybe a sandwich, and head over to his typical table to talk a painfully uninterested Sander’s ear off about you, but he scrapped it upon spotting you waiting in the cafeteria line, immediately changing course and veering over in hopes of a successful conversation.

He cuts in front of an unsuspecting freshman, ignores the irritated “What’s your deal man?”, and ‘accidentally’ brushes up to you until your bodies knock, and you spin around in confusion. 

Your face mildly relaxes in recognition, and he takes this as progress.

 “Hey. Getting lunch?”

“What else would I be doing?” You ask. Swing and a miss. 

He clears his throat a fraction, not allowing this to throw him off his game. 

“I dunno, maybe you just really like standing in lines,” he teases, and you laugh back. 

“Especially if the line is for overpriced cafeteria food,” you add with a grin.

The pair of you share a laugh, and Clapton marvels at the fact that you can look so irresistible even in the harsh fluorescence of the cafeteria’s artificial lighting. The pair of you fall into a partially awkward silence, and he follows your line of vision, watching as you observe some students hanging a hand painted banner advertising prom for the entirety of the cafeteria to see. ‘Spring Fling Formal, get your tickets now!’ glistens in white gold lettering. He prays he can take the banner up on that offer. 

“Are you doing anything for it?” A bit of a jump from the casual conversation, but he was itching to entice you and couldn’t risk missing his chance. 

“Hm? For what?” His lips twitch into a gradually familiar downwards smile. “Prom,” he says, gesturing at the banner, obnoxiously pink in hue and decorated with scatterings of hastily painted daisies. 

“Oh. Maybe— I’m not sure, it’s kinda ages away.” Yup. An impossibly distant period of two weeks. Clapton’s jaw ticks uncomfortably at the prospect of the narrowing window of time. He can’t afford to screw this up.

“Right. Sure. Are you… interested in anyone in particular though?” He probes, hoping that you notice the searing spark of desperation that lingers in the loop of his irises.

“Eh. Not really. Are you?”

His ego suffers a blow at your total ignorance to his pining. He’s on the brink of combustion; unable to endure the cosmic irony of having you so close yet so far. He pictures you for the umpteenth time, glittering in a dress that matched your eyes and his tie. A slow dance to a Sting song, his eager hands situated either side of your waist. You’d stare up at him with a dazzled guise, illuminated by the scintillation of indigo disco lights, and his tongue would delve into yours as he soaked up the saccharine flavor of the fruit punch lingering on your lips. 

“Yeah.” He states bluntly, staring at you as if you hung each and every star. “Yeah, I’m interested in someone.” 

You raise a brow. “Oh yeah? Who?”

He clears his throat. “Someone special. Someone super special.”

“You should ask them!” “Easier said than done,” he chuckles humorlessly. 

Your lips part as you go to investigate further, but are interrupted by the scowl of the lunch lady barking at you for your order. He notes it, mac and cheese plus a diet sprite— you’re handed it moments later, and your vision is torn from him and towards your small circle of friends seated across the cafeteria, who are waving you down. You’re gonna leave again? 

“I better go sit down, but, uh, you should definitely ask that person to prom. Be upfront and everything. Y’know, you only live once, and all that, right?” 

He swears he’s going to implode at the unbridled irony of this entire situation. Be upfront. He’s been upfront! 

“You know it,” he quips weakly as you slink away. 

He’s been showering you in signals for months, and you’d always abandon them, his attempts for your acknowledgement left festering as sour memories in his head, things that made him roll over with shame in bed at night, and all for what?

He brainlessly orders his doctor pepper with a monotone grumble, feeling the frigid prick of the can’s condensation gather in his palm as he wonders what the hell it’s gonna take for you to take a damn hint. 

*:･.・゜゜・

After yet another failed interaction, Clapton had spent the span of the rest of the week stripping his words to the marrow. Every conversation he indulged in with you involved his inner thoughts spouted in their rawest form— cocky compliments, lingering touches, looks of intense pining and yet somehow you continued to miss them. Every. Last. One. 

He was nearing his wits end, teetering on the cliff of insanity and seconds away from taking the plunge. Maybe he was the one who needed to take a hint. Maybe you were trying to tell him that you weren’t interested and he wasn’t giving it up. It was a sickening notion, one that thrashes wildly in his stomach. He didn’t know much, but he did know that he’d never be satisfied until he knew your stance on him for certain.  

He was just gonna say it. 

In hindsight, it wasn’t Clapton’s smartest move to deliver the question in the midst of a dodgeball game, but his thoughts were warped and he decided now was as good as ever. His voice was barely even audible beside you over the screech of tennis sneakers scraping the gym floor and the continuous sound of rubber balls coming into contact with student flesh. 

“Hey!” He exclaims. 

“Hey?” You say back, turning to him momentarily. Yet again, he wonders how you do it. Hair blown back effortlessly, skin glistening with a fragile sheen of moisture that is hardly off-putting, if doing something it aids to soften your otherworldly glow. Meanwhile, he was panting like an old dog, hair matted to his forehead in sodden chunks beneath his obnoxious sweatband. 

“I needa ask you something!” It’s sink or swim. His teeth graze the inside of his cheek for a moment, his gaze varying between you and the opposing court, to prevent a dodgeball to the head. 

“Yeah?” Sink or swim sink or swim sink or swim. “What’s up?” He melts at the sight of your semi-breathless smile.

“Are you still dateless? Like, to prom?”

Your forehead creases, and you return the sideways glance. “Um, yeah. Why?”

With a delayed exhale that rings heavy in the pits of his lungs, he turns his entire body to face you, which in turn makes you face him as well. 

“Look, I’ve been trying to say this for months. Well, not months. Maybe weeks. Whatever– point is, it’s been a while. Like seriously, a long fucking time. And I swear I’ve been so obvious, but clearly not obvious enough because you’re still, like, totally unaware or whatever. But, like, basically, I was wondering— I’ve been wondering if—” “Clapton!” You exclaim hurriedly, splintering his stammered sentence in an instant. He barely has time to cast his visage front on, before a dodgeball with an extremely strayed trajectory soars gracefully through the current of the air and hits Clapton square in the face. Guess he wasn’t paying enough attention after all. 

An expletive leaves his lips, muffled by the wail of your gym teacher’s whistle. His head is temporarily a warped whirlwind resembling TV static, though the feeling fades fairly quickly.

You turn to him in a mild panic, noting the faint trickle of glossy crimson that has started to spill from his nose. “Holy shit! You’re bleeding! Lemme take you to the nurse.” 

He can’t help but twist his lips up to form a slight smirk as you place a worried hand on his bicep. The touch scars on his nerves, your fingers like an angel’s caress. 

In all honesty, he feels fine, but you offered to take him to the nurse— was he going to give up that delightful invitation? No. He was not. 

The pair of you are excused from the gym, trekking down the hallway in an atmosphere of silence so thick it’s practically tangible. Upon arrival at the nurse, Clapton’s seated in a shitty plastic chair, holding a paper towel held to his nose and tipping his head slightly backward. He couldn’t believe that his one chance of actually spitting his desperate question out was interrupted by a stray dodgeball. A goddamn stray dodgeball. 

You linger in the doorframe, taut as a coiled spring. The nurse, underpaid and painfully unsympathetic, leaves the pair of you once she deems Clapton to be ‘good enough’, in her exact words. 

You approach him, taking the scarlet-spotted tissue and holding it to his face for him, a gesture which turns his insides in on themselves. 

“Hey Clapton? What were you saying before?”

Shit. 

“What?” He croaks gutturally, trying and failing to play dumb. He knew damn well what he was saying. Prom with him. 

“You were asking me something. Before you got, y’know, obliterated by a flying dodgeball.”

He snickers feebly, even if for a moment. “Oh, yeah.”

You open your eyes wider as if to say, “Well?”

The climate in the room seems to sink heavier, cradling the scent of antiseptic and drying blood. Clapton’s words fizzle out on his tongue no matter which way he arranges them in his head, but he knows he just has to get it out—- rip off the band-aid, break the ice, all of that. 

His eyes, big and wide and drinking in your face so dangerously close to his, melt into an unmistakable question. He counts himself down in his head. Now or never. 

“Prom. I was asking if you wanna go to prom.” He takes a staggered breath. “With me, I mean.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

The genuine beam you erupt in subsequent to his words is enough to ease his nerves. It’s enough to make him soar, actually. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” That wasn’t a no. That wasn’t a no. His heart hurts with hope. 

“I tried to. You’re just… you kinda suck at taking hints.” He chuckles. 

You roll your eyes, picturing every moment leading up to this one that you spent with him. Upon further reflection—- yeah. Yeah, you clearly did. People don’t look at friends the way he looked at you.

“Shit, I kinda definitely do,” you murmur. 

He doesn’t let the quiet last long.

“So…?”

“Oh. Right, yeah. Clapton, I’d love to go to prom with you.”

The smile he wears is irresistibly contagious. Finally. Finally. Two long years of craving you; two years of memorizing every quirk and curve and contour. He knows it’s sort of ridiculous to get so elated about some forgettable high school dance, but the image he can see so vividly in his head; the lights and the dress and the swarm of butterflies that comes with your killer smile… it’s worth every awkward exchange, every word that’s fallen on deaf ears.

“Seriously?” He asks, reaching for your hand and wallowing in the way you so brainlessly accept the touch.

“Seriously.”

“Good. You won’t regret it.” 

And something inside you tells you that he’s absolutely right. 

reminder, my requests are always open

masterlist

✩‧₊˚

[phasesofpencils]

Yeah no Blitz is fully within his right to be pissed off about that "confession".

Blitz literally has no reason to believe that their relationship was anything other than transactional, their last meaningful interaction together was Ozzie's and we ALL know how that went. Even the episode directly before that Stolas is still calling Blitz his "impish little play thing". Blitz's argument that Stolas is "Springing this feelings bullshit on him" is completely justified because Stolas's feelings really do kinda feel like they spring up out of no where during the Ozzie's episode.

And plus we have been getting force fed Stolas's pity party about his horrible marriage, how he's loved Blitz since he was a kid [which A) always felt weird/unnecessary and like they were just blatantly trying to retcon his intentions and B) arguably might have even made it worse cus even back then Blitz didn't have a choice in it], how he now sees how wrong the deal is and how bad he feels and oh he loves him so much. But even if you see all that and sympathize with Stolas for it, BLITZ NEVER SAW THAT DEVELOPMENT!!!

Blitz only ever saw Stolas talking down to him by calling him shit like "itty bitty imp" and "impish little plaything", not taking him seriously when he tries to set boundaries with him and completely ignore every single request he makes to not come onto him in public and not humiliate him in front of everyone from strangers to Stolas's own fucking daughter.

THEIR WHOLE DEAL WAS ABOUT SEX AND NOW STOLAS IS GETTING ANNOYED WITH BLITZ FOR "ALWAYS MAKING IT ABOUT SEX"????? MY BROTHER IN HELL YOU WERE THE ONE WHO MADE THE TERMS AND CONDITIONS FOR THE FUCKING DEAL!!! YOU WERE THE ONE WHO MADE IT ABOUT SEX TO BEGIN WITH!!!!! You were literally just bemoaning how wrong and unfair the deal was, earlier that same episode you asked "if he's only here as a prisoner what kind of MONSTER does that make me?" but now that Blitz is calling you out on it suddenly it's "i didn't realise you thought so low of me😢" you have never given him a reason to think any higher of you. You say you "think so highly of him" and how you don't care about social status but everything you've down towards Blitz so far has shown otherwise. Even literally dismissing him like Blitz accused him of doing by throwing him out for the crime of making him upset. Stolas didn't deserve that Sorry Blitz was gonna give him anyway.

I can already tell that watching reactions to this episode is gonna he so frustrating, so many reaction channels i watch have been so deep in the Stolas UwU Soft Boi propaganda the season has been giving us so far and already get pissed off at Blitz for the crime of making Stolas sad. I'm at least glad for Sarcastic Chorus cus even tho he ships it he can still think critically enough about it to not just blindly coddle Stolas.

[cafeinthemoon]

Ever Dream (Apollo x reader)

Chapter 1/1

Wordcount 7,3k

Title Ever Dream

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Symbols ✔ . 1️⃣ . 💛

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

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

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

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

“Come out, come out

Wherever you are [...]

Give in, give in for my touch

For my taste

For my lust”

(Nightwish, Ever Dream)

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This extended for days, until he finally had enough.

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The first words said between you were his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he didn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

– Y/n s/n.

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

You bit your lip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

– My Lord, it is not…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could it be that he…?

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

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

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

He was something else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your face burned with the thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If I fail at this, it’s over for me.

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

***

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

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

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

What I did… there was nothing beautiful about it.

***

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

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

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

Clever girl. Trying to slow me down.

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

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

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

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

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

***

Autumn came sooner to those lands that year.

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You forced your feet to move ahead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is this how I’m going to die, then?

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

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

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

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

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

– Forgive me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[animatorweirdo]

How to kidnap yourself a dark lord husband? Part 2

Part 1

(Second part for the crack fic. I hope you enjoy this one)

Warnings: Reader being a headache to her family, Sauron just dealing with her antics, Melkor getting robbed of his lieutenant and Manwe not getting paid enough to deal with this.

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

Nerdanel: *Sobbing* I can't believe our daughter would disappear again. What has Melkor's servant done to her mind to make her act like this?

Feanor: *Visibly angry* This is why the valars can't be trusted. They allowed something like this to occur to my only daughter. 

You: *Kicks the door open* Naneth! Atar! I'm home, and I have news for you! 

Nerdanel: *Startled* (Name)! Where have you been? And who is that beneath your arm?

You: *Carrying Sauron beneath your arm like a potato sack* My new husband! 

Your whole family: YOUR WHAT?!!!

Sauron: *Waving at them awkwardly* Uhm... hey. 

***

Feanor: (Name)! You can't just decide to marry someone you have only known for like a month! And he's one of the Ainur!

You: Don't worry. Mairon's a rogue, so he doesn't belong with the valar. 

Feanor: That's not what I meant! Why would you want to marry him anyway?!

You: One, he's less loud than all of you. Two, he's hot, and three, he gave me a dog— something you have refused to give me for centuries! 

Feanor: Seriously? 

You: *Holding Carna* Dead seriously!

Carna: Woof!

Feanor: (Name)!

Your brothers: *Glaring at Sauron* Hurt her, and you're dead. 

Sauron: *Deadpan* I'm literally the one that got kidnapped. 

***

Melkor: Well, well, well... now this is something I didn't expect to happen. 

Sauron: Hello, master. 

Melkor: So, what's your plan with Feanor's daughter? Did you seduce her? Did you brainwash her? Is your plan to have power over Feanor's house by marriage? 

Sauron: No. She just decided we should be married and forced me to come here. By the way, I've been meaning to talk to you about something. 

Melkor: Huh?

Sauron: *Slides in a resignation letter* 

Melkor: You want to quit? Why! Is it because you suddenly got a wife now?

Sauron: Master... it's literally been like 300 years since we even spoke. Everyone has literally gone in their own ways. 

Melkor: What? 

Sauron: Yeah. There's no one at Angband. We assumed you would never come back, so we didn't see a point to continue.

Melkor: Seriously? 

Sauron: No hard feelings. I might come back if you come up with something, but for now, I have different things to deal with. *Leaves*

You: *Grinning at Melkor* Haha! Fuck you, your lieutenant is mine now!

Melkor: *Silence*

Melkor: Oh dear– I got robbed of my lieutenant before I could rob her father’s silmarils. 

***

Your family: *Arguing with you in front of the valars*

You: *Arguing back* 

Manwe: *Having an headache*

Manwe: Alright! Settle down. I have a proposition that might help both of you in this matter! 

You & your family: *Look at him silently*

Manwe: (Name) Since your family wants you to stay, but you do not want to break your relationship with Sauron. How about this? During winter years, you shall spend your time with Sauron in Middle Earth, and during spring years, you will spend your time with your family in Valinor. 

You: *Thinks about it* Yeah, sounds good to me. 

Your family: Wait, it's the start of autumn. 

You: Woohoo! Which means half a year without you!

You: *Grap Sauron and began leaving* Bye! I see you in spring! 

Your family: *Sobs* (Name)!

[bloodyjuls-blog]

The worst of us (part 2)

Here's the second part. We gonna have a third part and maybe fourth amongst this week (I go to Uni) (let me know if you like the drama or less drama for next part)

"Hi, y/n" Leah said. "Hi capi how are we doing" I said in a shaky voice. "what's up y/n, are you crying?" Leah said concerned by my tone of voice. "it's just that i messed up in a way" you said with a shrinking voice. "what did you do y/n and why do I get the feeling it has something to do with Alexia" Leah said more seriously. I told her what I had heard in the locker room... "but that's ok innit" "she visualized with you in the long run" she said calmer. "yeah but you know how much I went through before I met her to have to deal with that" y/n she said calmer " "I thought you had everything under control y/n" Leah said flatly. "that's what i thought, everything was fine until a few months ago, she found the bottles in the dishwasher and didn't say anything. how the hell did she not say anything, being a footballer and drink without control" you said hysterically. "but you can go to therapy again, you can control it" said Leah. "I feel like all this pressure from marriage and kids, media, Giraldez, it's drowning me LEAH. Ahh fuck, I'm going crazy" "who do you think you are to cross the traffic light like that, fucking crazy" you said in a way that even you don't recognize yourself. "Y/N calm down now, I hope you're not driving" "Of course I'm driving Leah" "Alexia decided it was best for me to leave, it's all fucking over. I can't take it anymore" you said crying. "Don't do something crazy please, if you're going to drink, go home, it's safer" said Leah in a worried tone. "No tonti, I'm not going to do anything bad," you said more calmly. Yet another lie, I thought. Of course you spent the whole night drinking at the 24h market close to home. You'd be as dead as a doornail the next day at training

Next day at training

"Well girls, as we all know, we have the champions match day coming up, I want everyone to be plugged in and eager to win," said Jonatan. "Yes coach" we all answered in unison. Once on the court the group was divided by positions and it was my turn to play against Alexia. Not surprisingly, none of the girls spoke to me. They were clearly leaning towards the captain. That made me very angry, that I hadn't done anything wrong enough to be disowned. To say I felt bad was too little for everything that was crossing my mind at the time. One thing they tell you is not to mix work and home but when your home is your colleague it becomes impossible, let alone seeing her as beautiful as ever. In a different situation, the girls would be more supportive and condescending to me but no, today was the day to make my life a hell.

A couple of exercises later I felt like I was going to faint, the spring heat and the monumental hangover I'm carrying don't help. In one of those passes that I have to receive I get lost and my team yells at me in a way that is so fucking scary, those beasts are scary. Alexia looks at me with rage, I don't think I've ever seen her so upset with someone, not even with the fucking gals of real madrid. If these things happen to me because I'm stupid. To say that right now I was at my strongest mental point is a lie, but I was doing what I could. In one play we had to clear the ball and of course as my luck couldn't be worse today I had to receive in front of Alexia. Not having the physique today to give it my all, Alexia got there first and threw a missile in my face. "Ouch" I thought as I fell unconscious on the grass. Alexia approaches me and tells me in the most venomous way possible "let's see if you wake up and stop drinking. The example you set for the little ones. Very good, very good". At that moment I couldn't think of anything but pain and Alexia's words. I think if I had to compare it to anything it would be a stab in the back. Alexia knows my weak points and yet she uses them against me.

At the medical room they put ice packs and ointment on my face for the bruises. luckily nothing is broken beyond an eyebrow. I head home before and out of nowhere I get flashbacks of all those times I was told that I was not a good example, that I was not enough, that I should not spend my time in football, but what bothers me the most is that it reminds me of when my father told me that I was a bad example for my nephews, because of them I changed. Sometimes things do not turn out the way you want. And as I knew that this day was going to end worse I decided to take a flask of whiskey in my backpack. It was not a good idea.

As I go into the locker room to get my stuff I hear the girls laughing about something Alexia said. I let myself listen to her a little bit because I know that when I go in they will shut up and give me funny looks. I hear her say "maybe it wasn't the right time or she, all of a sudden her alcohol problem came back". But since she is so sneaky about telling my stuff to the others. "Alexia you can just shut up and stop telling my things, at least respect what I once in privacy told you" I said it in the most calm and broken way possible. Suddenly because of the alcohol I had already had. They all went quiet and went back to their things. Alexia looked at me and I grabbed my stuff and left. Bad idea, I couldn't drive with alcohol on me. Fucking alexia, fucking family club, fucking liquor. Angry, I got in the car to go to my special place.

In the locker room the English girls came in, joking about y/n had brought a flask of whiskey and hadn't hesitated to drink it during practice. All the girls reacted and started to worry. "What's up girls?" said Keira, still laughing. "What's going on here is that most of the people here have been making fun of y/n and her alcohol problems, thanks alexia, and now she has gone home in her car drunk" said Ana a little more upset. To tell the truth Ana has always been on my side, it has to do with the amount of years we have known each other, I consider her one of the family but with the alcohol recently, I have moved away a little.

Already in the car I'm a little dizzy, everything is spinning and the memories are killing me. To say that driving like this is ok is reckless, don't do it under any circumstances. A couple of hours later I find myself back in Alexia's neighborhood, wandering around like a fool, as if she was going to show up. I decide to go up the Tibidabo but in the vicinity I come across a curve which I try to maneuver as best I can but apparently it beats me. The only thing I remember is calling Alexia. "Hi y/n, what do you want" says Ale a little angry "Hi bonita, I want to hear you and I want you to know that I love you with all my heart" you say almost without air in your lungs because of the blow "and please forgive me for not being enough for you, I swear that everything makes sense, but there is nothing to do anymore. That you were always a family to me " "why are you saying that y/n, I'm getting worried ""where are you ""goodbye alexia, I love you" you said before you hung up and your whole world turned black.

[bridgetoesoteria]

🥰Timeless Love Reading 💟💗

Heyy back with anotha one! ➡Poll correlates with the piles⬅

Hope it resonates :)

Collective: For everyone I am getting the message that its time to break out of limiting beliefs. It may be time to face some fears or other things you have been avoiding.

I'm using a deck that I very rarely reach for these days. It was my first deck and I loved it! But it reminds me of someone who ended up really hurting me so I avoid it. But today I felt drawn to it for this reading and realized I didn't want to let them taint my life any longer.

I feel that everyone is being called to do that in someway. Take back your power in love and start controlling the narrative more.

Using Sun and Moon Tarot + The Afro Goddess Clear Vision Duo

Pile 1: Summer

4 Card Spread: The Lovers, 3 of Cups, Queen of Wands, and Princess of Pentacles. Bottom of the deck is Ace of Swords.

I'm getting a pretty bright and cheery energy. So either this is where you are or where you are headed. Yay! Love to see it 🥳 I'm bumping some Amy Winehouse right now. It always makes me feel so sultry. That's kinda the same energy I am getting from your reading.

I think you will be going out and having a great time. You will be re-discovering your sexuality. You will truly be "feeling yourself" (no pun intended!). Some of you could be getting frisky and I see the possibility of children, so take precautions if you are not ready for kids. But for others, if that is what you are hoping for this is a good sign. Some of you may be looking to expand your families.

For others, I think you will have a suitor that comes forward and makes you forget about the past. It looks healthy and honest. (This doesn't mean trust blindly. Always maintain your boundaries and trust your intuition!). Its possible they could make a proposal like asking you on a date, asking to make it official, or something else. Seems like there is romance and mutual love ahead ♥

TL;DR: You will definitely be feeling yourself, if you aren't already. Rightfully, so! What's wrong with confidence. You might be feeling a little hot in the pants *wink wink* so take precautions if you are not looking to get pregnant. You might meet someone that is a good match. Still make sure to trust your intuition and maintain proper boundaries. These are important ingredients for any healthy relationship.

Oracle: Sensei + Passion

Hopefully, you can see the images. Look over the messages and take what resonates with you. You will know its for you by the way it makes you feel.

Yeah... I know what I'm talking about when I said I saw some spicy energy in your reading. Luckies! I am also getting a bit of a marriage vibe.

Pile 2: Autumn/Fall

4 Card Spread: King of Cups, 6 of Wands, Ace of Cups, and 2 of Pentacles. Bottom of the deck is The Emperor.

Jamming to Miss Independent by Kelly Clarkson. Go listen! It may have messages or a vibe you resonate with! Omg and now Brokenhearted by Karmin is playing. I remember when I thought this was Cher Lloyd lol... anywayy..

I am getting such good energy for this pile! I love it. You could be romantics at heart. I am getting a free spirited energy. You don't let heartbreak keep you down and jaded. You always find a way to come back out on top and open your heart again. That is seriously impressive! Its not easy or common to be that resilient! (In case you're wondering, my phone is now playing Drama Queen (That Girl) by Lindsay Lohan). Go you! 😊🙌 If you aren't here right now, this is a sign that you can get there! Manifest it!

I do see someone coming in. They give me kind of goofy energy but well-meaning. They might have more serious intentions than you think or they could have a serious side. I do feel like the ball will be in your court in some way. So just know everything can go the way you want it to. I think this can apply to love overall. You're in a very attractive energy.

If you are going through a heartbreak, you will get over it. I don't mean that in a dismissive way. It just feels like you will start to snap out of it almost. The pain may linger but you will find ways and people to distract yourself.

Some of you are wondering if you should reconcile with a certain person. I see them thinking the same thing. You both feel the same way but probably don't show it. This is probably more of a communication problem and difference in love languages. If you do decide to get back together, try to get to know each other in a more light hearted way. Focus on the moment for now, instead of the bigger picture. Maybe get one of those "couple's questions" type of decks from Amazon.

Some of you may be trying for a baby and I see positive signs here. Make sure to really tune into your empress energy. Know that you have abundance interwoven in your energy and DNA.

TL;DR: Some of you may be experiencing some friction with a partner or may be newly single. You will feel like going out and doing you. I see that you and this other person may struggle with communication and understanding each other. Take some time apart to cool off. Don't make any impulsive decisions you will regret later. If you choose to reconcile, focus on getting know each other for who you truly are. Maybe do this in a light hearted way with some couple's quizzes/games.

Oracle: The One of Wonders + Oil and Water

I'm definitely getting some kind of love-hate vibe. Someone you can't live with but you also can't seem to live without. I knew I was getting an LGBT vibe when I started this reading. I think some of you in this pile could belong to the community. Whether you are single, or going through a break with you partner, I see you dusting off the "freakum" dress and wildin out. Maybe you feel like you deserve this. You've earned the right to have some carefree nights.

Hey, I'm not going to stop you. If you like it, I love it! Go ahead and get it out of your system. Just be safe my dearies. Remember you might end up having a veryy honest discussion with a partner/love interest so don't do anything you might not want to share.

Pile 3: Spring

Off the Bat: Before I even began shuffling I was getting a kind of scorned feeling. Some of you may be thirsty for some kind of revenge. That's kind of funny because I have been wanting to do a "Get Your Lick Back" reading 🤣🤣 But I didn't know if that was too messy for the first week of 2024.

4 Card Spread: Queen of Swords, The Chariot, The Magician, and The Devil. Bottom of the deck is 6 of Cups.

I think you will be taking more charge in your love life. Its like you have a fire under you that's driving this energy. You could be experiencing some kind of heartbreak or toxic cycle.

You will probably be hearing from this person or reaching out to them yourself. It will be up to you what you want to do with this situation. You could take them back and have passion but its likely that you will realize you have outgrown this situation. I think you have learned a lot about this person and you are ready to put up better boundaries.

Some of you could be leaving this person. You may not trust that they are going to maintain whatever change they are showing you. If you do know this person to be toxic and hurtful, you are making the right choice.

Regardless of your specific situation, I do think with the Chariot and Magician in the middle of your reading, you have the power to manifest whatever you need. Harness whatever surge of passion or energy you get and use it to go after what you want. Some of you will manifest communication after a fight or about a fight or betrayal.

For others I see your relationship improving. I think more effort will be put in to try and protect your foundation. It feels a bit scattered for some reason. I think your intentions are in the right place. Perhaps you would benefit from couple's counseling or something similar.

TL;DR: You will have the choice to end a toxic relationship or cycle. Some of you may find that you have outgrown a person or situation. You could manifest communication from someone that reveals some kind of truth. For others, there is a commitment to protecting what you have built with each other. If you fall into that group, consider couple's therapy! Ball is in your court no matter where you fall.

Oracle: Oil and Water + The Librarian

Read over the information for each card. I think the messages meant for you will jump out at you.

Lift Me Up by Rihanna and Demons by Imagine Dragons may have some messages you resonate with. Also check what the year of the dragon may mean for you

Pile 4: Winter

Off the Bat: I am getting a lot of air energy! I also turned off all my music and stopped sipping. Some of you could be moving into a pretty serious energy. You have priorities and don't want to waste energy on nonsense.

4 Card Spread: Page of Swords, King of Swords, 10 of Swords, and King of Wands. Bottom of deck is 10 of Cups.

Some of you could be dealing with a break up. If it hasn't gotten to that point, there may be a lot of cold energy between you and your partner or love interest. Perhaps they want to act single and keep you a secret and you just aren't cool with that? Or perhaps they have a secret of their own. I am picking up on some kind of immature and selfish behavior. I almost want to call it ridiculous. So maybe that is how you feel. Others of them may be burying themselves in work to get over some kind of pain. Whatever the case, you are not feeling emotionally fulfilled.

You feel comfortable putting a pin in things. Even though you may feel quite compatible with this person in a lot of ways, there is something missing. I feel like there may be lack of emotional availability from both sides but it could feel like they don't see you at all.

You may find yourself walking away with a heavy heart. I am seeing you represented by some very powerful cards! The Queen of Wands and High Priestess! This person may not have acknowledged your worth but that does not mean it isn't there. You have a lot of inner strength and power. Your mind and intuition are sharp. If you know you can do better, go out there and manifest it!

TL;DR: You may be kicking an unfulfilling person or situation to the side. If you are not being recognized and cherished by your partner, I think you already feel that it is time to go. You definitely have the energy to attract what you deserve. No more settling. You are walking away to get your mind right.

Oracle: Parted Paths + The Dependent

I hope you can see that. Please take read over the messages from each card and take what resonates.

Thank you everyone for stopping by. I hope it resonates. I've never done pick a card style readings before.

~K

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Just want to say, I really love your yandere family! They all seem so sweet lajdkal

Ah! Thank you! I'm so glad!

I've been meaning to make more content for them

So here's a little something

🖤🖤🖤

How Sweet They Are | Yandere Family

Remalda

To Everyone else: Is as sweet as she needs to be. How can she be anything other than that when she’s going for mayor? But what’s underneath the sweet smiles and friendly disposition is a spiteful woman with a violent string of thoughts.

“Miss Remalda! If you weren’t married I’d propose to you!”

“Awww that’s so sweet! But I’m very happy in my marriage!”

‘If you had found me 14 years earlier I would have skinned you for even thinking you could replace my love with yourself. Disgusting Pig!’

To You: She’s sweeter than sugar. Anything you ask for you can have even if it comes with detriment to someone else. She just can’t resist it when you look up at her with those adorable (e/c) eyes. It's just too much! Too perfect! That’s her beloved baby alright!

“Awww you reached so nicely for it, you can have all the cake you want!”

“Mom! They can’t even digest solid food!”

��But they asked so adorably how can i refuse?*Mwah*”

Spencer 

To Everyone else: He’s as cordial as he needs to be. He’s been keeping people at a distance for quite a long time so this is nothing new. He doesn’t often waste any time thinking about those he meets or what he can do for them because he’s too busy thinking about his own family. 

“Thank you for your patronage.”

“You’re really pretty for a man in your work!”

“Hmmm.”

‘Did I leave the dishwasher running? If I did (Y/n)’s sippy cup should be in there. That’ll be good. Oh, and Yulia has a skating competition this week…’

He’s so disconnected sometimes he forgets the...consequences that spring from his own actions or lack thereof.

“So darling who was that tramp?”

“What tramp?”

To You: He tries to be as sweet as any parent should be. Your chubby body, your gleeful squeals, and your tiny grip on him–are always reminders to him about how much he cherishes you. He’s aware that Remalda is inclined to spoil you and he doubts that will ever change so he has to take initiative and be the adult. But he didn’t have to worry about it now, not when you were so young and it was normal anyway to act on your whims. You have no other way to communicate so it's okay!

“Baby, be careful waving that toy in the air! You might hit a bird!”

You’ll babble and ultimately end up flinging the toy in the air wacking a bird off its perch.

“Oh s-dear! Okay okay, you can have it back just don’t do that again. Okay?”

Michael 

To Everyone Else: Only if you pay for it. He’s a businessman after all and he doesn’t get the results he does by being “sweet.” He’ll make his peers pay a fee if they want to see his pearly whites and even then it's never the real thing. It’s safe to say he takes after his Mother and Father when it comes to being sweet…it covers his real thoughts that are either completely unrelated or especially violent.

“Geez Michael you could’ve at least acted like you care! I’m paying for the experience, right?”

“You right, I don’t care. But if you want the experience with a friendly disposition you’ll have to pay the fee.” 

“What!? Seriously this is a lot more than I imagined…”

‘Of course I do I need to have enough to support my baby and little sister…I wonder if I would get more if I just stabbed him.’

To You: He’s sweet t in the way that he always holds you with care and reprimands your wrong-doings. While he’s not too different from his father he still feels like it's his duty to ‘properly raise you’. He thinks-no he knows you're the precious baby that needs his loving hand to guide you in this messed up family. And since you're his sweet baby he will be the sweetest to you and Yulia.

“Alright (Y/n)...give me your hand.”

“(Y/n). (Y/n), listen to big brother. Give me your hand.”

He’s trying his hardest to be sweet with you, it's not typically in his nature to choose kindness over violence but he tries. He loves you after all so he’s willing to try anything to see your gummy smile and hear the bells of your laughter.

“Good job, (Y/n). Next, you’ll have to learn to give me one of your toys.”

Yulia

To Everyone Else: Of course, she is sweet to everyone! Why not be? Everyone’s usually so nice to her–always complimenting her ice skating and how good of a big sister she is. Sometimes when she talks to those who know her brother they seemed surprised she is so nice. 

“Huh, Michael? Oh well, he’s quite curt but I wouldn’t say he’s mean.”

So where her beloved brother slips up she carries the weight, hoping to dissuade others from building too much aggression towards him. Because she knows him and he’s the kindest big brother; yes, he may mysteriously be ridding her of any and all problems she speaks about.

“Threatened you? He’s just…doing his own thing. Yeah, sorry about that…”

To You: Yes! Why wouldn’t she?! Her darling baby sibling is just so cute and when Michael’s busy and the parents are fighting+ you always seem to reach out for her. Always seem to remember her. So she gives you kisses and risks her mother’s wrath to sneak into your nursery for a sleepover.

“Come on (Y/n), how about we stay up and I tell you all about everything1”

[nightfallgame]

(NSFW) SHORT — Hiroyuki Yamada (02)

Originally Written: 08-11-21

Prompt: Hiroyuki + a childhood friend and a marriage proposal that he never expected them to take seriously.

Hiroyuki wakes up to someone beside him. He’s in his shitty apartment. That’s the first thing he takes in. And... that’s a good sign. Probably. Even as drunk as he’s sure he was last night, at least he didn’t make the mistake of following the wrong person home and getting stuck. 

But there’s still a warm body right next to his, and when Hiroyuki dares to roll over... it’s to a face that he remembers all too well. 

The memories come crashing down hard. An old friend came to visit last night. He tried to drink a little to drown out his anxieties, to try to make himself a little less of an awkward, painfully stressed-out mess. And. Well. 

It clearly didn’t end so well for him. 

An instant later, when he curls up a little more into himself, Hiroyuki catches sight of his hand... and the ring around a very particular finger. His heart almost stops. What did he do to you? There’s no way that thing would be there because of something you chose. No, he had to have spiraled once he was drunk— and while Hiroyuki’s known himself to make stupid decisions when alcohol clouds his system, forcing some kind of engagement is new. 

Panic settles in his chest and takes root in his lungs. He did this to a friend, probably the only person he knows who was truly willing to visit him and give him a chance. Hiroyuki whines. He needs to be quiet. You’ll hear him. If you wake up, he’ll have to face the mistakes he’s made, and then, he’ll have to see someone who might have cared look at him with disgust. 

And then, you roll over and pull him into your arms. 

Hiroyuki almost shrieks. His whole body stiffens up like a coiled spring at the sudden contact, and it’s only through sheer willpower that he avoids letting out some kind of pathetic sound. You hum and squeeze him tighter. 

“Mmm... it’s nice to wake up to you,” you giggle. “I’m so happy you said yes! I was really worried there that you might not accept.”

“Wh-What!?” It’s undignified to the max, but still all he can say. 

“Marrying me. That’s why I came last night, remember? I’m here because we promised... and yeah, you had to get drunk to calm down enough to properly talk to me, but that’s okay. You said yes.”

Your adoring tone is coming close to giving him a heart attack. There’s no way someone could be talking about his sorry self in such a way. But just the same, when he fights to think through the mild hangover clouding his head, Hiroyuki stumbles upon the memory of you saying something very similar years ago, back when the two of you were in high school. 

“Y-You tracked me down for that—!?” he sputters incredulously. 

“Yeah. I was serious. I needed to wait until I was sure I could take care of you, but I meant what I said back then. And you’re okay with it, right? It’s like... I really do want to make you happy with this.”

“There’s n-no way you’re serious,” he squeaks. “Y-You can’t—, this is m-me we’re talking about. I’m a drunk! I w-work a shit job and, a-and there’s no way I can afford to be a husband, fuck—” He’s rambling now, panicking even more, and Hiroyuki can’t get a grip on himself for long enough to shut up the parts of himself that are insistent he feels guilt. 

“Don’t worry about money. I’m really sorry I took so long to get back to you. I needed to make sure I could do things properly, so... I can take care of things. You’re so sweet.” You reach forward and cup his cheek in your palm. “The same precious friend I knew way back then. I’ve missed you. So if you want to and you’re really okay with it, marry me. I won’t make you. You can take that ring off right now if you’d rather.”

The way you’re looking at him is terrifying. There’s so much genuine adoration in your eyes that Hiroyuki is pretty sure he could cry. Or that he might be about to. He remembers you vaguely— most of his past has sunk into a haze from stress and too much to drink, but you’re still there. 

His own family doesn’t want to see him. Even growing up, no one expected him to ever bring home a spouse. If you marry him, you won’t have any in-laws. He doesn’t have any money or assets to share. All Hiroyuki has is his cramped, dark apartment and the few possessions scattered throughout it. You claim that you’re capable of handling everything, but why would you want to? What has he done to earn something like that? You don’t get anything out of it. 

But the thought of someone actually wanting to have him for a husband is making Hiroyuki’s throat go tight and his chest heat up. He used to dream about that kind of thing, back before he realized it’d never happen. 

Even if it’s an obvious trick, can he really make himself say no? 

“I...” He hesitates, but desperation soon gets the better of him. “I-I’ll marry you. Please, um, p-please take care of me.”

It’s all he can do to whisper that plea and look away. Meeting your eyes while he still feels close to combusting is just too much. What if you take it back now and laugh in his face? Or what if he sees disgust in your eyes that someone as pitiful as him dared to assume you were serious? 

“Aaah, thank you! Thank you so much!” Instead of any of that, you shriek with happiness and pull his tense body even closer to yours. You bury your face against his neck and laugh with delight. “I promise, I’ll make you so happy. I’ll do everything to take care of you. You’ll never have to be alone again.” Your grip is tight and there’s conviction in your voice. Hiroyuki is so stunned that all he can do is lie there and fight back the insistent tears. 

. . . 

And it does indeed turn out to be true. You marry him.

The wedding isn’t as terrifying as Hiroyuki is expecting. You keep it small, in part because of his nerves and in part because it’s not like he has any family who’d even show up. In no time at all, he’s a married man. 

Maybe a couple of nights after, though, Hiroyuki’s nerves are eating him alive. Even though you went through with it, there are parts of his head that are utterly convinced this can’t be real. It’s legal. There’s a ring on his finger and you signed the papers and everything, but he still can’t stop feeling like he’ll wake up to you laughing in his face for falling for it. 

So when the two of you are going to bed (you share a bed now, in your apartment), Hiroyuki brings himself to ask the question. 

“A-Are you sure you want this...?” 

Without alcohol in his system, it’s hard to speak. You’ve slowly been getting him to drink less, and while that does mean he feels less like shit all the time, it also means that he’s in a constant state of nervousness with nothing to dull the strain. Asking something like that is way too hard. 

“What do you mean? This as in... being with you?” you ask. Hiroyuki nods and your nose wrinkles up. “Seriously? I married you, you goof. How would I not want to be with you? I love you. You know that by now.”

As you talk, you get closer and closer to him, scooting over until you’re in his space. Hiroyuki’s breath grows tight. Your bed is bigger and warmer than his futon ever was, and sharing it with someone feels entirely different than sleeping alone. You’re always holding him, getting closer and closer until he’s lost in your touch and not feeling quite so scared. This time, like many others, you lean in and kiss him. Your mouth is soft against his, and in no time you’re pawing at his shirt with reckless desire and need. 

He doesn’t resist. When you’re like this, it’s better to just enjoy it... and try to block out the negative things still hovering in his head. Focusing on the feeling of your lips trailing down his jaw is better than paying attention to the persistent thought that he’ll never, never be good enough. 

You suck a mark into the space just below his jaw. If he was still working at Oracle, Hiroyuki would have had to squeak at you not to do it where he couldn’t keep such a thing hidden. Now, when you’re helping him search for a new job that won’t tear him apart and leave him in pieces, Hiroyuki has no excuse. It feels good. He’s hard in no time. 

Legs rubbing together to try to get any kind of friction, Hiroyuki arches up into yet another bite. You’re down to his collarbone, his shirt is gone, and he feels like he’s starting to burn up under your persistent touch. 

“H-Hey, why are y-you being so... affectionate...?” Hiroyuki mumbles. His dick is twitching embarrassingly in his underwear, and if you keep this up, there’s a good chance he’ll come before you even manage to touch him. 

“To prove that I love you and want you to be my husband forever,” you say bluntly, as if blurting it out doesn’t faze you for a second. 

“Th-That’s—!” Hiroyuki starts, but promptly gets cut off when your mouth finds one of his nipples. The sudden shock of heat makes him twist and squeak, his cock pulsing out a shamefully large drop of pre-come from that much stimulation alone. His hips buck uselessly into thin air.

It doesn’t stop. You cover his chest in marks and bites and slick trails of your saliva left behind from kisses and the drag of your tongue. You suck and bite at his nipples until they’re pink and flushed, pebble-hard, and so sensitive that Hiroyuki swears he’s minutes away from spilling in his pants like a teenager. He wants you to touch him, but begging is just too much, and anyway, how is it his place to ask for more than this?

One of your hands finds his thigh. You rub long, slow lines over his skin, up to the juncture of his thigh and pelvis, where the aching bulge of his cock is just inches away. There’s no way you can’t see the (slowly growing) wet spot where his tip rests. Where he’s leaked so much it’s visible. Hiroyuki’s face burns at the thought... but his dick twitches once again. 

“Do you want my hands or my mouth?” you ask, smiling so fondly it hurts. “Either one is fine. I want to make you feel good.”

Hiroyuki opens his mouth to say that you can do whatever you’d like to him, but he closes it slowly when his thoughts stall. He... He’s allowed to ask. You’ll do what he requests, and you won’t be angry with him for it. 

“Your hand, p-please...?” he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. This is beyond embarrassing. And— while he’s come to adore the feeling of your throat around him, there’s something special about your gentle fingers stroking him off like he deserves all of the kindness you can possibly offer. 

“Of course.”

His underwear is down a second later, and your fingers curl loosely around his shaft. You don’t tease. Instead, you stroke him at the perfect pace, only breaking the rhythm to kiss him stupid as he whines. 

This is bliss. He’s in someone else’s bed where he’ll fall asleep by their side. He’ll wake up to your face in the morning, and every morning after that. There’s someone who will touch him whenever he wants it and make sure he doesn’t break down in tears after he comes and what would have been loneliness sinks in. You care enough to keep him from drinking himself to death, and you give him all of the world you can offer. 

“I-I love you,” he moans. “So much. Thank you f-for wanting me—, I’m so grateful, I-I really am. I’m happy to be your husband.”

Hiroyuki buries his face against your shoulder after that. He comes in your hand within a minute to the sound of you saying you love him in return.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.59 Things are a changing

Sophia was an incredible gift. Despite knowing I still needed to heal, she excused me and accepted my feeble substitute for "I love you." Still, I felt compelled to give her something in return. She claimed not to mind that I didn't say it back, but who wouldn't want to hear those words? It almost felt obligatory to reciprocate when someone expressed their love. Although I couldn't utter those three words yet, there was one thing I wasn't afraid to do. I earnestly wanted her to be a part of every aspect of my life beyond our cozy little bubble in Oasis Springs.

"How would you feel about meeting my dad? Is that too much too soon?"

She gasped, and her entire face lit up.

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Positive. You're important to me, and so is he. I want you to know each other. Plus, he already knows about us and was very instrumental in getting me to this place."

"I would love to meet your dad! Your mom too!"

I groaned, and she frowned.

"You don't want me to meet her?"

"Of course I do. I want you to meet everybody. But Mama? She's gonna act up."

Sophia laughed so loud it startled me. I wasn't trying to be funny, but...well, at least one of us found my mom's behavior amusing.

"Luca! Don't talk about your mother like that."

"What? I'm serious! She's gonna meddle and start planning our wedding and pester us about babies! Are you ready for that? Because I'm sure not."

She hesitated, opening and closing her mouth as if to weigh her words.

"If I said yes, would that be a problem for you?"

Once again, I was like a deer in headlights, frozen, mind blank, flabbergasted. I guess it shouldn't have surprised me she'd be ready for the next phase right now. She's had more life experience than me and was more mentally and emotionally mature than I. And she was doubly sure about us. It all made sense. I guess I was just hoping she'd be on my side on this one.

"...Oh...well...uhhh...no...of course it's not a problem. I just, uhhh... My mind isn't there yet. Does that bother you?"

She sighed.

"I know you're going through things, and I want you to heal and grow past them so we can be the best versions of ourselves together. I don't want to take that away from you or rush you through it..."

I sensed a very huge but incoming.

"But just remember...I'm older than you. Marriage and family are things I've been looking forward to for a while. And as a woman, I don't have all the time in the world to have children like you do, and I'd prefer to start a family while I'm still young. So, yeah, I want to support your journey, and I won't rush you, but at a certain point, I'm not gonna be able to wait any longer."

I sighed and slid back onto the couch. It wasn't because I didn't like her answer, but because I had so much more to consider now. I had my own stuff to work through and other sims to think about. And half of them didn't even exist yet. We would need a bigger house soon, but I was no closer to stabilizing our financial future. I would figure it all out, of course, but this journey through manhood was getting bumpy, and I had only just begun. My simple life of ease was definitely over.

I needed time to process everything and come to terms with my own readiness for such commitments. The ball was in my court, and until I was ready, there was nothing more to discuss. With those considerations weighing on me, I decided to shift the conversation to a lighter topic.

"So like...I know this is an extremely weird and random place to interject this, but how do you feel about dogs?"

She gasped, and again, her face lit up.

"Do you want to adopt?? I've seriously been thinking about that all summer!"

"No way! Me too! I really got used to having Tofu around, and I missed her a lot when I moved in with my dad. Mama had dogs when they met, and I brought Tofu to his house once. He didn't seem to mind her, but he wasn't overly excited about her either, so I never bothered asking him if we could get a dog."

"Well, I definitely want to!"

"Cool. Let's have dinner with him tomorrow. Then, whenever you have time, we can look at the adoption site."

"It's a date!"

Life was changing. And fast. I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. Even without the struggles I faced, life was just plain scary all by itself. The unknown was like a creepy basement. You could look down the stairs into the darkness all you wanted, but there was no way to find out if there really was a monster down there without taking the first step. I was so lucky to have Sophia in my life, taking those steps right along with me.

[sweetestpopcorn]

How would you rank Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s children in terms of greatness/potential? For me, Baelon was best out their children with Saera being second. I also think Viserra was a waisted potential. I think she could have done interesting stuff had she lived. Do you think perhaps maybe Baelon should’ve married her after Alyssa’s death? Obviously, no one could replace Alyssa in his heart.

Hi there :)

I have already kind of answered this regarding my thoughts about Saera and Viserra and none of it is good. I will just link them here and here . Legit they are just portrayed as mean girls with no real depth to them, though of the two, Saera is much, much worse. Viserra I can at least sympathise with since her parents seem to not give half a f_ck about her and did not even extend to her the same courtesy they did her siblings of having a say about her marriage (more here), but that's about it. I don't find anything else likeable about her she's just... empty.

I will go from least favourite to favourite.

Saera and Viserra go right to the bottom of my list. Followed very closely by Vaegon by obvious reasons. Like Vaegon, it literally costs you 0 golden dragons to not be so unlikable.

Then I would say Daenerys, she has a lot of sweet moments but dies young so I don't really know how she would have turned out. Besides, I know it's petty of me, but I don't like other characters having Dany's name. I do like Daenerys, Naerys's daughter but... yeah no more. You don't need more Daenerys, we have our Mother of Dragons. Yes, I know I am petty.

Then Gael because... poor baby 🥺 seriously what was George thinking writing a character who is Alysanne's comfort, with some degree of cognitive disability be r...... by some random singer, give birth, lose her baby, and kill herself?! Like enough's enough. It's literally just to add tragedy to her story and honestly Turtle man it's getting f:cking OLD. I swear this man gets his rocks off by adding tragedy and terrible abuse to female characters. This when he can bother to make them more than a walking womb.

Then I would say Aemon. Maybe he would be higher but at times I just feel he's too perfect if that's a thing. There’s just nothing wrong with him like 😂 he literally does nothing wrong.

Daella comes next because I find her funny. She's such a drama queen 24/7 making everyone around her want to protect her XD even Alyssa. I kind of got the vibes at times from her that she kind of knew what she was doing to get attention. Like the fact that she and Alyssa are Rhaenyra's grandmothers just makes so much sense no matter how you look at it. In a way Rhaenyra seems kind of a mixture of both? With tons of stubborn and style added. Another moment that really endeared me to Daella was her very tragic death, and how despite all her suffering she still wanted to be given Aemma and to feed her. Prime mom material right there -> like you can tell both from her and Alyssa that Rhaenyra got some top notch mom genes.

Then Alyssa of course, because she was THE queen. Literally she was just a better behaved version of her son and I'm here for it! I love how despite the fact that she was clearly a tomboy she still wanted to marry Baelon and give him an army of kids X'D because these two things are not mutually exclusive and liking or enjoying traditional boy things does not have to say anything about your sexuality or your desire to be a mother - just like being very feminine and liking traditionally feminine activities does not have to say anything about your sexuality or desire to parent. These are rules a society that does not understand nuance and in a sense is deeply sexist and stereotypical likes to put in place and that I find deeply harmful to people. But Alyssa is the BOMB, so funny, so bold, the way she embarrassed Vaegon who was a little sh:t *chef's kiss*

Then there's the best man ever -> Baelon Targaryen

Had his own cool nickname, The Spring Prince, funny, charming, sexy, single dad who never once forgot about his lady with the mismatched eyes, entered a tourney under the name of the Silver Fool... I don't feel like a need to say more, and in an era where all men were literally so problematic, Baelon was IT.

Baelon is what this fandom thinks Corlys is. Sorry not sorry.

And that's it :D

Also no, and more important that should Baelon remarry, the question is did he want to remarry? And the answer is no, and any Baelon fan would respect the Spring Prince and his undying love for his lady with the mismatched eyes <3

[onestormeynight]

High School Sweethearts

Rosie and Robin were spending the first sunny afternoon they had off in the Monet Park in Willow Springs. Rosie had never been there and could use an escape from Harper Valley for the afternoon. They started with chess. During the game, Robin kept giving her significant looks.

"What?" she said, taking a pawn from his side.

"I love you," he said. "I have always loved you. Being with you is as easy as breathing. You're my best friend."

Rosie laughed, both flattered and awkward at the display. "Thank you, but don't tell Billie. She might fight you for real if she thinks you're moving in on her best friend territory."

"Come on a walk with me."

"I love this little bridge," Rosie said.

"Well, let's stay here for just a minute then."

"You are being so weird today."

"I just want to savor you for a little."

There was a reason he was being weird. Robin had a very serious question for Rosie. She was stunned; they'd never actually talked about marriage before. Not seriously. Yet, here it was.

"Rosalie Harper," Robin said getting down on one knee. "I love that you usually have newspaper ink on your fingers or nose. I love that you have a scrapbook of newspaper clippings that have nothing to do with you or anyone you know. I love you unending and fierce love of your family. I love your forgiving nature, your calmness, the way you reach for me in your sleep when I've moved too far away. I don't want to wake up without you for any longer than I have to. Will you marry me?"

It was a resounding yes.

((prev)) ((next))

Ending Credits:

[shrinkthisviolet]

How about director's commentary on 'we'll give the world to you (and you'll blow us all away?'

Ooh gladly! Below the cut for length:

So this fic was written as part of Maiko "Halloweek" (so called because it was the week leading up to Halloween), aka Fall Maiko Week, back in 2020. Maiko was, and still is, one of my favorite ATLA ships, and writing this prompt also endeared me to Izumi too—I don't believe I'd seen LOK yet, though she's barely in it anyway.

One of the important aspects to me while writing this was implementing one of my headcanons: they got married relatively early, but waited a while to have kids. And part of that means they dealt with pressure about having an heir as soon as possible...mostly from the Fire Sages, who are worried that Zuko might die before conceiving an heir. And it's not that the worry is unfounded, but it's the persistence.

It was a nice chance, also, to highlight the Gaang's closeness. This is one of my favorite snippets of that:

…Zuko had the full force of the chi-blocking Kyoshi Warriors, a master waterbender, the Avatar, a master swordsman, a master earth- and metalbender, and a master knife-thrower behind him. Anyone who dared oppose him would fail, of that the Gaang (Sokka’s name for them, expanded to include the Kyoshi Warriors) was certain.

And also this, showcasing a little Maitara friendship:

... Mai found out from a furious Katara that they’d been approaching members of Team Avatar in an attempt to circumvent the royals.

“What’d you do?”

“Threatened to freeze them if they tried it again. But I’d keep my eyes peeled, just in case they didn't get the memo.”

The worst part is that even when they finally get the hint and back off in the pestering...the rumors don't stop:

The Fire Sages no longer brought up the need to have an heir, but Zuko and Mai had endeared themselves to the palace staff enough to know about the whispers. The sneers that perhaps the marriage was not as happy as presumed, that perhaps the Fire Lady had already been pregnant when they wed (apparently, some in the Fire Nation were praying that this was true, and Zuko had never felt like committing murder more than in that moment).

Of course, as stated later, the Fire Sages are spreading the rumors. The palace staff are too endeared to Mai and Zuko by this point...and the Fire Sages intend to force their hand however possible.

Also, this adorable Maiko moment, with a little Maiaang friendship:

“Since when are you into proverbs?” Zuko teased.

“I’ve been befriended by a certain Air Nomad,” she replied with a smirk. “It turns out, he and your uncle speak the same language.”

“And you’ve picked it up?”

“Unfortunately.”

And this one:

...he focused his efforts on the creation of the United Republic of Nations and enlisted Toph and Mai’s help in replacing the gossiping Fire Sages. When the Fire Sages protested, he simply said, “If you wanted my ear, you shouldn’t have insulted my wife.”

I love them 🥰 I will go down with this ship fr (that last line in particular...one of my favorites I've ever written)

Also...Mai telling Zuko she's pregnant under Yue's light (right after Zuko tells her Yue's story) is intentional, given that Izumi is born at the moon's peak—which itself is also intentional!

But back to that in a bit. For now...Mai and Zuko's shared anxiety was important for me to convey:

He looked at Mai very seriously and said, “Do you want this? Really, and truly, do you want to have this child?”

She looked back at him, first startled, then serious like him, and nodded firmly. “I do. But I also want to do it right. I want our child to know they’re loved, always, and that they never have to earn it.”

They both want their child, they want to do right by them, but they're scared too. And of course they'll do their level best and even beyond that, but that anxiety can be hard to shake. It takes time!

But now, back to Izumi:

Princess Izumi was born in late spring, at the moon’s peak, with a quick but steady breath in her lungs. It had been a difficult birth for her mother, and a stressful event for her father, and the fact that she had even lived to breathe was a miracle in itself.

As mentioned prior, Izumi being born at the moon's peak would likely be unusual for a firebender. Late spring itself probably isn't too strange, even if summer would likely be more auspicious.

Izumi has a little asthma at birth too! Nothing too serious, but she is the first (and only) child. I've never liked the hc that Mai dies in childbirth, or that she and Zuko stop having kids because of pregnancy complications...but as someone who's the eldest child, yeah, we are usually pretty difficult births (one of my baby cousins was too).

And then, of course...it gets worse, because Izumi doesn't have the Spark.

So here's the thing about the Spark: I've admittedly never been totally sure what it is, I've always imagined it as the sun hitting a baby's eyes in a specific way...but I also think it's superstition more than it's legit. Zuko didn't have a Spark either, and he's a formidable bender. It's probably an old wive's tale, and it rightfully Zuko off:

“You cannot have a nonbender heir,” another Sage snapped. “It has never been done!”

“I was presumed to be a nonbender upon my birth,” Zuko retorted sharply, “and I ask you to mind your tone. I am your Fire Lord and this child’s father. If you’d like to try appealing to my wife, I assure you, my feelings toward this pale in comparison."

...

“Believe me, she means it,” Zuko said coldly from the door, startling the Sages. “And so do I. One more step towards my wife or daughter, and I will not hesitate to incinerate you.”

Another fun part was writing Mai getting pissed too:

Unbelievably, they tried just that, not even giving Mai the courtesy of sleep before approaching her. Mai, being both sleep-deprived and furious that they would propose infanticide, warned,

“Get away from my daughter or she won’t be the one disposed of today.”

Any time I get to write her emotions, it's really fun for me, because she's usually such a reserved character, while I am very much not 😅 she's so unlike me, so it's always fun to dig into why she's like that (which I've done in other fics), and show her being more emotional as she marries Zuko and grows older, to show how she's grown and changed 💞

Zuko being protective of Mai was fun to write too...and him being protective of Izumi!! He loves her so much already 🥰 and speaking of which...I loved writing this first moment of him holding her:

“Getting sappy on me? Save that for Izzy.”

Zuko smiled at his daughter. “Hello, my little turtleduck. Don’t mind your mother. She loves us, really.”

Loved it so much that it ended up as the preview in the summary 😂

Also ofc, this scene with him and Izumi later:

“And this is the turtleduck pond, where the turtleducks live! Except you, of course, little one.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re my little turtleduck, and you’re actually human, so you get to live in the palace with me and your mom!”

But Izumi caught sight of the turtleducks, who were squawking happily at her, and seemingly out of nowhere, she burst out crying.

“Oh! Oh, um..what’s wrong, Turtleduck?” The name only made Izumi cry harder, and Zuko winced. “Um...Izzy? Izumi? What’s wrong, sweetie?” Her crying didn’t abate, and Zuko flipped her on her stomach and over his shoulder, patting her back firmly in an attempt to burp her.

He gets so worried here, it's adorable 🥺 remember what I said earlier about how Maiko both want Izumi but they're scared/anxious, and both things coexist? This demonstrates that. Zuko's a little out of his depth, and it shows, and I loved writing this. No parents are perfect to start off, especially not parents like Mai and Zuko who are flying...mostly blind (with help ofc, but even so...they're the full-time parents). But they're determined to do right by Izumi no matter what.

Mai says something to that effect here:

“Look, Zuko. What you did, when she was crying? The way you panicked and tried to soothe her in any way you could? That’s the mark of a great father. That’s the mark of a father who cares, who might not have all the answers but still wants to try.” She smiled softly. “It’s leagues better than either of our fathers, I’ll tell you that.”

As Mai says, she's “full of good points”, and I’m quite inclined to agree 🥰

(Also, as a bonus, I got to throw a little shade at parts of the ATLA comics. Aang refuses to even consider killing Zuko, and Kei Lo is Mai’s ex, not her boyfriend. Ahh how I love throwing shade at the comics 💞)

director’s commentary ask game!

[baalzebubuu]

So. Why exactly do you think the head of HR would chastise and insult one of her bosses for doing something that, while risky, was the only thing that could be done at the time to keep Kronos locked away AND reawaken the Underworld? And WHY would they then treat said boss like a fool for being freaked out over her powers seemingly inverting when, 1.) her powers were working as they usually do up until spring, and 2.) there were few known precedents over what Erebos would do to those that make deals with them (i.e. as far as we can see, Hades didn't get his pre-king powers "inverted")? I understand that you have your gripes with LO (some I can even agree with), but damn, at least be fair with your critiques, and also maybe don't mock these characters for having certain bodily features that are often the focus of negative attention IRL...

(P.S. No Greek god/goddess would accept a nymph insulting them to their face like that - they've done far worse for lesser, and even indirect insults, and a nymph being the "Head of HR" in the Underworld OR Olympus realistically wouldn't save them from that wrath, ESPECIALLY if it's coming from the queens themselves; yes, I also saw your Hera post - Hera may be leery of Demeter at times, but she's far from being genuinely terrified of her (ep. 188 clearly shows this), and please remember that Persephone was in danger due to MINTHE'S jealousy over a damn tabloid photo, not Hera's (you know, the GODDESS OF MARRIAGE, who's allowed to play matchmaker if she sees chemistry between people since THAT'S ONE OF HER JOBS, and who also likely wanted to give Persephone experiences outside of the latter's sheltered life) decision to have Persephone intern in the Underworld.)

All good points! These comics are meant to be mostly skits just what the fans always wanted to say to the characters themselves so I don’t really take them seriously in terms of plot or any of that nature

Also I’m not really much for posting here on tumblr

But DW I’ll answer the best I can with some background lore I have currently in store

Originally Gunnarr was a Humble devoted loyal Mage Serving under Freya the most powerful revered goddess in the Norse Pantheon and they were sent Away under Mysterious Circumstances

And they’re placed in high regard by many connections with Justice goddesses due to their good behavior and devotion to them Which somewhat explains why they’ve gotten away with the BadMouthing certain scenes and if any god ever really does anything to HR Freya definitely won’t be too happy about it and would cause a whole dispute between pantheon

As for Getting away with badmouthing with Hades and Keeping him on his Toes HR and Hades have a very long history working for him for up to thousand or so years

HR and Hades Essentially had a relationship just like Bojack Horseman and Princess Carolyn

And HR essentially is completely done with his Foolishness and 99% of The Olympus Family

To the point of calling them out at with whatever legal problems the gods will cause as even if they DIE being called out HR gonna die knowing he was right and essentially their point proved

they don’t really care if they Die by Their hands

( till they eventually became nicer Because of their poly relationship)

As for the part about Persephone reaching That Tower because of Minthe

I was Planning on making a comic about it soon where HR talks to Minthe and gives her consequences but I never really had that much planning how to execute it right

As for how i usually draw Persephone I was mostly following along to how other creators were doing things, not much thought put into it

However that I will apologize for since i do admit they are in bad taste

Let me know if I’m missing a part that I forgot to explain

Edit: Also i am very sorry this post was poorly written I suck at explanations

And it’s the morning by the time I made this post and I’m heading to work atm

I very much apologize for this lackluster explanation