#music in silence and both do art but she wants to talk and I am not in a talking mood

[milo-is-rambling]

Mommy issues going hard

[ushouldwatchhaikyuu]

hawo! i saw ur post about the xreader thing and uh… i go by she/her, im a stem girlie if that helps, i like arts and volleyball, i used to game a lot but im trying to lessen it cuz its becoming a bad habit, i like reading and music too, and i bake/cook when im not feeling lazy or am particularly stressed about something, and i guess im pretty quiet? like, i come off as intimidating to a lot of people but im literally just generally anxious 😭 i get hyperfixated on random stuff and get distracted easily + find studying very very super hard and boring but am in honors somehow. i care a lot about my family but i have trouble forming connections outside of childhood friends and stuff, thats the gist of me. i would love headcanons with kageyama or kenma! (maybe both if ure generous? or sugawara or tsukki work too idk choosing a haikyuu fave is impossible)

Kageyama & Kenma x F!reader

warnings: none!

girl u are very relatable (anxious, easily distracted, hiperfixated, arts & stem people rise up) and im also very much a kageyama kinda guy lets be friends LMFAO /hj

gif credit: kenma & kageyama ; dividers credit

Kageyama Tobio:

oh my guy is also very much someone who gets very hyperfixated on stuff, chances are once u become close enough, both of you would start rambling/infodumping onto each other and would accidentally get into whatever the other one is hyperfixated on lmfao. like one day you'd come up to him and just ramble for 15 mins about some historical event and next day he would call you at 2am and go "GIRL THATS NOT EVEN THE FULL STORY GUESS WHAT I LEARNT ABOUT THAT" and viceversa.

since both of you are on the quieter side, chances are you might not speak every single day, but whenever you do speak, you could spend hours doing nothing but that. he's a very pleasant person to have long talks with and he would always be super interested in whatever you talk to him about

he's dumb as bricks when it comes to school stuff and struggles to study as much as you– but since you get good grades, he would come to you for help. which would lead to VERY chaotic but thoroughly enjoyable studying sessions lol.

he would always be so eager to play volleyball with you, regardless of how good you are. if you're on a lower level than him, he would tease you about it but also be very patient and explain everything to you a thousand times if need be (in his own way of course, which would probably include at least a few insults each time, but it's all in good nature)

he would very much enjoy just watching you draw/paint in silence or while listening to music. he finds it fascinating & very calming

he would go ABSOLUTELY WILD if you ever paint/draw a portrait of him. im talking like "weak to the knees, teary eyes & needs at least 1-5 business days to process it" type of emotional

Kozume Kenma:

oh girl he would be TERRIBLE for your gaming addiction lmfao

however!! if you are motivated enough to get better with that, you would probably try to get him to form healthier habits too and he would resist, but ultimately try to listen to you.

you would both probably spend hours straight just enjoying each other's company, not really talking that much, just doing your own thing (him gaming & you painting/reading etc)

he would be so shy whenever he includes you in streams and people say you two look cute together

whenever he's tired but still wants to spend time with you, he would love laying down with his head on your lap while you read for him and play with his hair

his way of showing affection would be to ask you to play his new fav videogame with him, or join him in streams, or send you playlists with music he thinks you would like

he would also play songs you like on the background of his treams and get fricking demonetized all the time because of it, but he still does it

he also tries to comission you to make his pfps/headers and pics for streams (he would get so shy and happy when you say that yes, boyfriend privileges include free drawings, indeed)

[donutz]

Craftycorn x male reader

Request from Wattpad-! Here you go Glcheairs123☆

—☆You are a smiling critter in this, if u want to know which one(but don't know what animal or insect to pick) you could start out as a sheep!

Waking up as early as 4 am, you all need the time to discuss the main activity for the day.

Dogday is the one to discuss that though. Then the workers come in and instruct the topic for today.

Dogday just adds on to it and explains it better. No shame to him though (ﾉ´ з `)ノ

You and Craftycorn collected art supplies and put them on the children’s tables.

“What stickers do you think the kids will like, Crafty?”

“Uhm, maybe rainbow ones? You should give multicolored stickers to each table, so no kids have to fight about which colors…”

“Hm. That’s smart. Thanks.”

“Mhm!”

Little conversations like that can really accentuate your friendship with Crafty. Some could say you two were a good duo. Quiet, good with art, somehow good at small talk.

Anyways, for today’s art activity, the kids were supposed to draw a bear. However they wanted, it could be yellow, pink, they can even just draw Bobby.

It’s the creativity that matters(ai ‘art’ type moment😂).

As you and Crafty were quite the creative bunch, you could help the kids with anything. Ideas, colors, shape, you name it.

“Sheepy!”

“Hm?”

“Should the bear be a square or a circle?”

“... Well what do you want it to be?”

“A square!”

“Then you draw a square shaped bear.”

“Okay!”

Since you and Crafty let kids be creative with art, you two were quite liked. Especially by the older kids who are artists.

They like you two so much they come up to you both to ask about their art, do you like it? “Could you give me some constructive criticism?” or “Could you help me figure out my art style?” Stuff like that.

Art is very important. In every way possible, it expresses your creativity.

Maybe I’m getting off track.

The kids were doing the art activity, and the both of you were speeding around, helping kids who needed it. In fact, you two were going so fast that you crashed into each other!

The kids saw and started laughing. Luckily, neither of you were carrying paint, so there wasn’t really a mess. Other than the many crayons and color pencils spilled on the ground.

Crafty started apologizing so much— you couldn’t even get a word in!!

“Crafty. It’s okay.” You interrupted.

“We both crashed into each other, it’s not your fault.” She raised her eyebrows and stopped rambling.

“Let’s just clean up these art supplies, okay?” She then nodded her head, and stayed silent.

“Also don’t feel sad for me saying that.” She was feeling sad but never mind.

Finally, at least for a second you two could rest.

“I guess handling art supplies can be tiring…” Crafty stated, “Yea, apparently.”

An awkward ‘silence’ filled the air. The younger kids didn’t really make the room seem silent. But it was silent between you two.

“... Crafty, what’s the meaning of art?”

“Oh! Okay. That’s a deep question— uhm…”

“Well I guess it’s a way to express creativity. Visually, emotionally and physically. Like drawings! Emotionally could be through music! Music is art. And then physically? It could be a sport!” You asked that question specifically just to hear her ramble about it.

Crafty is a nerd when it comes to art, mainly visual art but she can talk about other kinds of art too.

You also said it to end the personal silence.

But you were quite impressed by her knowledge. “Crafty, can you show me your art pieces?”

You couldn’t have said anything better to an artist.

Unless if you’re talking about older art pieces then… I’m not sure about that.

But of course, she said yes and rushed you over to her corner.

It has a bunch of colorful papers hung up on the wall, and beautifully colored canvas’.

Other than the beautiful art hung up on the walls, you could see the scrapped and crumbled up pieces of paper on the floor. What an emotionally relatable art piece!

She had drawers that are different colors, they’re color coded. That’s a smart idea, maybe you should do that too with your art. But there was one drawer that wasn’t colored at all. It was just white.

White isn’t a color.

“Since you are very dear to me, I wanted to show you this!” She shows you her very first art she made when she was created.

Now that— makes you VERY special. Appreciate it while you can.

It was a picture of her. She drew herself. No matter if it looked like a 5 year old drew it, it looked fantastic! Every art is beautiful, even if it is drawn by a beginner artist. Especially since people like to negatively judge a beginner’s art, for some reason…

“That’s so cool…” Hearing that from her best friend was a big confidence booster. You could see the sparkles in her eyes, adding onto her wide smile.

“REALLY?! Thanks!! Here, I’ll show you some more—!” Then a kid yelled out Crafty’s name, not giving her a chance to show you her cool art.

“Oh…” Then she had a small frown on her face.

You put your hoof(because you’re a sheep in this) on her shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, I can look at your really good art later. I’ll bring it up myself, no worries.” You reassured.

The stars in her eyes came back, “Okay!” Then you two rushed over to the kids to help them out with the activity.

By the time the kids were at lunch, now Crafty can show you her art.

You two went through every. Single. Piece. Crafty didn’t get tired of it one bit though.

[chaoticcutiewhirl]

New Intro 3.0

We have been putting this off for a long while now but now its time to do this, and simply to say, we are a plural system that uses the collective name of "The Whirl Production House", Ava, or Whirl, and if you know us you know there is a tendency for us to be quite nerdy or atleast a collection of dorks obessed with more artistic endeavors. If you want to find us elsewhere here is our linktree:

Also before you look, to note is that we do have commissions, and before the link tree here is the comms sheet and feel free to message me if you want to possible support a disabled Transwoman

And beyond this it should be noted we are mostly a grouping of differing levels of otherkin sort of deals ranging between those of us who are fictives to those who are kins with very little shifting beyond that if at all. Mentioning that we should probably shift into introductions of individual members of our collective. I will say individual members because we are more so at the multiple end of the plural spectrum of things where its kinda easy to tell there are several of us up here, without bleed-through unless we are feeling blendy/foggy on who is fronting.

Also something to note, we gernally do not fall into Plural related labels and are still early in the processes of System stuff even though its been a few months since syscovery. Part of the reason is because the only ones of us that care about assigning labels feel we do not know enough to label everything, only using labels we do have an idea of working as apart of our system. Will those labels be disclosed? Not in this post atleast.

A Quick Rundown

We are the Whirl Production House system or Whirlproductions, a system to which is still figuring shit out who has an open mind to things so to get syscourse out of the way we are Pro Endo. I will say I am not afraid of blocking people as we generally do not care what you think but if you are annoying there is a way to make you shut up on our feed or notifs. Beyond that we generally face things with caution and are still learning about many things, we have a few ideas on who is what kind of roles but I will not share them and for origins I will say its either unknown or a mixture of several probably, with stress being a detriment at times and is part of the reason why we are not out publically about the Trans stuff alone IRL. We stress easily and have chronic illness (Some form of lung related thing as well as Fatigue) so if we are slow on the uptick please keep that in mind.

Headmates

Sylvia

Art by @/BunBunTushie on Twitter

Name: Sylvia S. / Sylvia Drake

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Demisexual-Lesbian

Kins: Mojave Sidewinder Rattlesnake, Sylvia Drake [Mice Tea]

Noting about Kins for Sylvia is that both are practically just who she is, as there are very few shifts out and when there is, it usually during hours of blurriness or questioning that leads to her questioning more of who she is, but being Sylvia Drake is basically the summary of her being

Age: Early to Mid-20s (Bodily we are 20 tho)

Likes: Writing, Looking at pretty art, doing research, music, Science Fiction (There is a lot), Westerns, TTRPGs, and Entertaining others

Dislikes: All Medical situations, Stress, People our body is related too by blood for the most part, Getting Yelled at, How the US Schooling system is set up

Tag: 🐍 Sylvia

Lucinda

Art by @observerkaine (Found you >:3)

Name: Lucinda

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Lesbian

Kins: Desert Hare, maybe Burnice White (ZZZ)

Age: Early 20s (Most coincides with the body's Age)

Likes: Art, Talking, Silly demeanors, Comedy, and Color theory

Dislikes: Loud noises, too many things to do, Time, and those who domineer a situation without consideration for others whether its through emotional or physical means, Awkward silence

Tag: 🌵Lucinda

Rowan

Art by @guacheenim (Oh Hey you are on here, hiya again.)

Name: Rowan

Pronouns: She/They/Xe

Sexuality: Asexual

Kins: Spider (Unspecified), Drider/Rachnae-like creatures

Age: Range of around the 30s

Likes: Quietness, Reading, Baking, Solitude, Safety and relaxation for all of us

Dislikes: Percieved threats, Stressors, People getting hurt, feeling useless

Tag: 🕸️Rowan

Kade

Art by @/D3monicY33n on Twitter

Name: Kade

Pronouns: He/She/They (Genderfluid)

Sexuality: Likes men and sometimes butch women

Kins: Carpet Shark

Age: Early 20s (Unconfirmed but lines up most with Lucinda in matching the Body

Likes: Being flamboyant, Piercings, Punk Subculture related music, 18+ stuff is especially tied to them

Dislikes: Feeling restricted, Fronting (Could be related to the first part),

Tag: 🦈Kade

Avarstia

Art by us... (May be replaced by digital art at some point tho lol)

Name: Avarstia Furhenbrook

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Lesbian

Kins*: Not actually a kin, she is a fictive of an OC we have of the same name and is legitimately said character and has helped greatly write the books she is involved with. In other words she is a Half-Demon, Goddess of Death, Winter, and Time who just somehow ended up here

Age: Given what is said above would it be surprising to say she is somewhere in her 700s on the mental side

Likes: Reading, Talking, Philosophy, Thought Expirementation, Writing, Observing, Storytelling

Dislikes: TTRPGs (She finds them boring), Menial tasks, Repetition, Staying in a single place for too long, Ideas of immortality or preventing decay,

Tag: 💀Avarstia

Fionn / Yang Xiao Long

Official Render from the Volume 8 episode of RWBY, "Refuge" (Will say there is divergence from canon in how she looks however)

Name: Yang Xiao Long

Aliases: Fionn

Pronouns: She/They

Sexuality: Lesbian

Kins*: Again as the shift with Avarstia shows, she is again falls under the aspect of being a Fictive in our system, she diverges from canon in the aspect that she is atleast blind in one eye in headspace as well as having a couple of Faunus features being her ears and tail, being a sort of draconic Faunus. Also Dragon Kin

Age: Early to mid 20s (Notably younger than Sylvia when we feel numbers are accurate)

Likes: Engineering, mechanics, learning about weapons and historical combat, comedy, Energetic music (Mostly rock and punk), helping others in any sense really

Dislikes: Feeling powerless, being Frontstuck (Its been almost 800 days by the time of drafting this), Biological family, others feeling bad, being objectified.

Tag: 🐲 Yang / Fionn

🐉 is also sometimes used as apart of her tag

Dendro

Art by Miranda Mundt, within the webtoon "Muted" (Again may update this when we have art on hand that is more to our preference)

Name: Dendrobrium, Dendro

Alias: Delphi

Pronouns: She/It

Sexuality: Demisexual-Lesbian

Kins*: She is again a Fictive of the character of Dendro from the webtoon Muted, with the main change between her appearance there and what is in our headspace being that she is more of a combination of Desert flora

Age: 300s, again like Avarstia she is a bit older but Dendro did mention it is an estimate given the time difference between Trea and Earth, but will say in source that is not a detail stated.

Likes: Plants, Gardening, Staying Healthy, existing beyond the confines of the place we live, being around people, learning

Dislikes: The body's Chronic Illness, the Desert Heat, and generally the urban areas of Arizona being the way they are.

Tag: 🌸 Dendro

Ceroba Ketsukane

Art by us but will note you can find Ceroba when she uses Tumblr on @kitsunetragedy

Name: Ceroba Ketsukane

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bi with a femme lean

Kins*: Again she is basically just a fictive of Ceroba from Undertale Yellow, with the only difference being that she has two tails

Age: Older than Rowan, younger by far than Dendro, Monsters age slower than humans just an exact age is not really set mentally but she is older.

Likes: Thrillers and Romance, Art of her source, Cuddlable things, Older music (50s-70s), Calm and quiet situations

Dislikes: Abrasive clothing, People who are quite rude, Failure

Tag: 🦊Ceroba

Note: Ceroba does not front much and is at moment of writing the newest member of our system so this will likely be updated at some point

Members who will not be given great detail

This section is mainly here because of system members who have either been identified or appeared once and haven't been active at really all and we do not know if they are apart of our system still or if their existence is confirmed outside of small blips:

Duana - Moth monstergirl who kinda was the main one angry at everything and was the host for a bit before Sylvia and Lucinda took the reigns, was noted as a member pre-syscovery by those who knew the system was a thing sort of passively back then and she hasn't reappeared in a long time.

Aria - Robot girl who appeared once for like half a day before disappearing into the ether of our brain, do not know if she was a fragment with more of a sense of self or if she is a headmate but she is logged on our SimplyPlural

Clémente Dearworth - Yaelokre Fictive, who appeared in our system very recently and is a middle

Nicole Demara - ZZZ Fictive, who also appeared in our system very recently. And is active, this may get updated again to add her to the main list of things. 🩷

??? - A third pressence of recent editions is known but is unknown.

Questioning on if they are Kins or Members of our System

Mentzelia Laev (OC), its less so feeling like we get too into the mindset of the character, its generally an aspect closer to Clemmie where I feel there is a potential Kin but its more further back, or maybe being someone who is currently not active in the system. Either way Bug Lady had a specific sense of self that has not changed much and would explain the like autumn we were obsessed with blacksmithing and medieval weapons.

Lethica Nightborne (Legends of Avantris, Edge of Midnight), This one is more of a situation where I do not know but suspect she could potentially be like one my brain has picked up upon in a similar sense to Avarstia, Ceroba, and Dendro, a character who is more of a comforting pressence than similar tracks of trauma.

Vash the Stampede (Trigun), this one I think is or will be a kin, I do not see the aspect of them as a headmate being likely given the difference in thoughts but I feel atleast someone in our system will be a kin of Vash... Just has those vibes.

Falin or Marcille (Dungeon Meshi), Again I feel its more of a kin but its somewhere as it was a moment months ago admist the whole identity crisis of syscovery, that I ended up going on a spree and you can check my Tumblr back in April to see it, we were still figuring things out so I have no clue who it would have been. Either way, I feel it may come back again when Dungeon Meshi season 2 drops given the more laxed nature of it all atm.

Burnice White (Zenless Zone Zero), a new one and is the first documented adition. There has been a back and forth between her being a kin or the budding of a headmate, but either way, one tie to Lucinda.

In other words do not be surprised if we update this post to mention them beyond this section, whether as a offhanded mention of a Kin or as apart of our system full on. This section may be updated or maybe not I will say though.

Other Information

Honestly I do not really know what else to add for y'all to know but if you wish to ask anything I may add tags or whatnot down here to give you all an idea of what we do such as possibly using the same tag we use on Bluesky and Twitter for art being:

#AvarstiaArt - Art posts by us

Beyond factors such as that feel free to send in asks and one of us may respond with an answer or whatnot.

[malevolantkitcheen]

hai!! I saw you're JJK match works and they are really good so if they're still open I thought i could make a request? she/they (female) | Leo | ENFP bisexual so men or women is fine I don't really have preference Looks wise, I'm pretty tall around 165 cm, tan, dark brown eyes and short dark brown hair (I think the best way to explain my hair cut is like a wolf cut but not that many layers?), I'd say I'm thin and kinda flat, my hands are kinda veiny and my nails are uneven since I tend to cut them when I'm nervous Personality wise, I'm very extroverted so much so that I get energy from being around people I like, especially people I consider close friends (I'm an only child so sometimes I wish I had a sibling). I'm also very friendly I love making friends and I'd say I'm very loyal too I just like talking to people in general. I can also get a bit overwhelming for some people which I totally understand I'm the type of girl who flirts with her girl friends and teases them constantly but I also get really flustered when someone teases me. I don't like some people though and If I don't like someone I can get really rude and moody but I'm also really moody if I'm just not in the mood sometimes I tend to lash out at people but I feel really bad after. I also end up crushing on the worst people I've never been in an actual real relationship so I just crush on people for some drama in my life. Hobby wise, I'm a music girl I play guitar, piano, kalimba, ukulele, and I sing (I'm also currently learning how to play bass) I'm actually a lead singer in a band. I'm also interested in art, video editing, coding and gaming. Subject wise I like math physics chemistry and computer but they can get kind of stressful at times. I also love dressing up and buying random merch and cute things I've always wanted to cosplay and my clothing style changes every day I'm also a really big jewellery person and i love collecting fun earrings and stationary. Thank you I'm sorry if it's a bit too much hope you have a good day!! <3

For Jujutsu-Kaisen, i match you with

Yuji Itadori

(male match, send in a nother request if you would like a female match too! I am more than happy to do both! <3)

- At first, Yuji came across as relatively awkward, especially around you. He would mainly stick to following Megumi and Nobara around, but the two of you would share occasionally glances from time to time. He was hesitant to come and talk to you but you made it clear very quickly that you were far from intimidating. It took little to no time for you two to find things in common because as soon as you would find a topic of conversation, Yuji would let his words run away with him. At times he wasn’t a great listener due to the fact he was a little bit of a motor mouth when he got comfortable with his friends, but he would always realise eventually and be extremely apologetic, which you found adorable. Despite his very vocal opinions, he loved listening to you talking about almost anything and everything; he found you fascinating.

- At times you would worry that you were getting on his nerves because you were getting carried away with the conversation, but Yuji would always reassure you that it was more than okay and that you were simply just really interested in whatever you were talking about. You loved this about him because most people would get frustrated and just stop listening all together. He just truly understood you. Of course there were still some occasions where you would be a little off, especially if you hadn’t had the greatest of days. At first, Yuji didn’t really know what to do because he hadn’t been in these kinds of situations, more so because he didn’t want to upset you any further. However, it didn’t take him very long to figure out what the best ways to help you were, even it just meant sitting in comfortable silence with you, so you knew that he was there if you needed anything.

- Sometimes, Yuji would feel as though you weren’t interested in him as you would bring up other people on occasions, of course you weren’t doing this maliciously, but it still made him a little bit doubtful at times. Despite this, he was determined to stay by your side no matter what because you truly meant everything to him. He hadn’t really made any advancements towards you romantically but he didn’t really hide his feelings very well because much like you, he got flustered extremely easily and even just being around you would often make him smile and blush.

[edgessunflower]

Congrats!!! Can I get a ship please ⚓️ ?

Fandom: Harry Potter / DC (preferably batfam) / star wars

She/her, and I'd like a male ship please.

I'm slightly above average height for a girl (about 5'9) with brown wavy hair, but I'm always dying it bright colours/changing my haircut (much to mother's dismay lol). Style-wise, I tend to alternate between super preppy, if not a little too formal, to just completely grunge. Depends on my mood and who I'm hanging around with that day I guess. I am quite impartial to my combat boots though. And high-heels. Ideally both at once.

I'm an INTJ Slytherin Leo--fairly introverted and aloof by nature but after years of practice and forcing myself out there, I can be quite bubbly and chatty when necessary (super draining though and it still sometimes weirds out some of my oldest friends how quickly I can switch). I will not shut up about random nerdy/sciencey nonesense if I feel comfortable. Not too great with emotions though--it's a work in progress heh.

Currently a physics and maths double major with a minor in philosophy because that somehow seemed like a good idea at the time and no one told me I couldn't do it. Quite active around campus--super involved in leadership for some clubs and the student union, and compete in debate. I love it because it's all super interesting af but I'm not too great at math for someone doing a degree in it and I'm at a point where I'm surviving on irresponsible caffeine consumption and spite alone. I switch between hobbies and interests really often because i suppose i just get bored a little too easily, so I'm a bit of a jack of all trades--only things I've really stuck with for a long time are writing (that will never see the light of day) and just tinkering around with stuff to figure out how it works and seeing what I can do with it. Technically a classically trained pianist because parents expected it but uh I haven't practiced in a while so I'm a 'lil rusty--more into rock music these days anyway.

I'm trilingual--French, English, and Arabic (needs a lot of work though). Trying to learn Latin for the hell of it (also helps with Philosophy a bit). Fortunately got to travel a lot as a kid because of my parents' work so it's helped with getting some practice I suppose. I just love travelling and getting to know other cultures honestly, especially having lived in big cities and had friends from all over my whole life. And getting to visit all the museums and art galleries is a huge plus.

Sorry this if this way too long, but congrats again! Have a great day xx

Here ya go dear! And thank you! 🪷

First I ship you with Remus Lupin! 💙

He likes your passion for physics and philosophy always seeing how hard you work and never give up which makes him so proud of you for it

He is amazed at how talented you are with foreign languages speaking Latin around him as well as bits and pieces of Arabic and French mostly speaking English but he never fails to smile when you say I love you in a different language

He always makes sure if you've had more than 2 or 3 and a half cups of coffee to give you water or milk even if sometimes he has to sweet talk you to do it he just wants you to be healthy a little bit

He never minds when you're chatty or quiet always listening and talking smiling sweetly at you before laughing at your bubbly and lively actions

He likes to have your head in his lap while you both read to each other or in silence enjoying the other's company

He likes seeing you wear his sweaters whether to sleep in or just around the house he falls in love with you all over again just seeing you in a sweater

Next I ship you with Tim Drake! ♥️

He always helps you if you're having trouble with math or any work that you are getting frustrated and confused by ready to teach you a few tricks to help

He never lets you get sleep deprived or really out of control with caffeine always giving you water or milk to help you in between the consumption of caffeine

He likes how you go from the nice button up and skirt with your hair up in a bun to a loose fitting grunge shirt and jeans with a messy ponytail or braids always smiling at how good you look

He loves going to the park or museum with you he lives learning more of history or just enjoying the peacefulness of the park in the evening or night

He likes hearing stories of you traveling around with your parents when you're younger always having a good laugh or fond smile hearing of your childhood

He likes to just lay on your lap or stomach when he is tired and needs sleep always feeling his stress wipe away laying on you while you wear one of his hoodies

And finally I ship you with Anakin Skywalker! 🧡

He never judges anyone for their size or height but he will take a chance at least twice to get a joke about your short height just to make you pout at him

He likes listening to you play piano when the two of you are in Naboo visiting Padme or your family in your childhood home on Corusant

He likes knowing more of the cultures from you since he only knew a bit of naboo culture and some of Tatooine and corusant culture but learning more about them and if others made him love you more

He likes to teach you how to use a blaster and drive a speeder always smiling at you driving his speeder like he does but also mindful of how you drive and how fast reminding him of Obi wan

He loves how you treat his padawan like a sister, his best friend like a sister, and his master like a father loving them just as much maybe even more than he did

He gets tearful and emotional when he sees you place a flower on his mom's grave always going to tell her happy birthday, happy Thanksgiving, merry Christmas, happy New Year, and how much you wish you could have met her making him fall in love all over again

[mysticstarlightduck]

🧶 - Do they do any arts, crafts, or creative hobbies?

🐺 - How does this oc deal with solitude?

🚷 - Tell one difference between yourself and this oc!

- for OC(s) of your choice!

Thank you for the ask, @diabolical-blue! Gonna go with Jack Tithus, Renn Atrius, Augustus Grimmure, and Lyorna Quarr!

🧶 - Do they do any arts, crafts, or creative hobbies?

Jack Tithus - He is terrible at drawing, and never really had time to practice, however, in his spare time sometimes Jack does scrapbooking and he also knows how to play the electric guitar, though he hasn't played music in a while.

Renn Atrius - Renn loves making art, especially drawing. He has a travel sketchbook and pencil case he takes with him at all times. His all-time favorite things to draw are flowers, studies of mythical beings and portraits of his friends.

Augustus Grimmure - Augustus considers necromancy and forbidden magic as an art, and dedicates his time to perfecting it to help others. He also knows how to play the piano quite well.

Lyorna Quarr - Lyorna makes sculptures out of recycled materials for fun - her sculptures look like tiny action figures and cute collectibles. She also makes DIY jewelry.

🐺 - How does this OC deal with solitude?

Jack Tithus - Um. Not well, to say the least. Jack is the type of extrovert who needs to be around people, talking and having fun, to feel at peace and recharge. He also devotes a lot of his life to others and only feels "useful" when he's helping someone. Being alone for too long just makes him anxious and quite depressive, as he starts being alone with his thoughts with nothing to distract him from the sadness or pain he may feel deep down.

Renn Atrius - He doesn't mind. He's been alone for way too long most likely and has had to become used to it in order not to spiral into panic. That doesn't mean he likes it. While he is an introvert, he considers the company of people he trusts comforting, even if they're just spending some time together in silence, that's enough for him to feel at home.

Augustus Grimmure - He embraces solitude. When he is alone he can think clearer, he can study his inventions properly and come up with new spells for his necromancy tome. He can learn his magic without being judged by others, something he has grown to fear due to past experiences. Usually, he does not like the company of too many people or being in crowded places - if company is required he prefers that of those he cares about and loves. He adores his friends, especially Harriet, his love.

Lyorna Talli - She doesn't mind it but doesn't like it. As long as she isn't bored or trapped, she has enough energy to keep herself entertained and be happy with it. But she loves to be around others who match her energy levels - and with whom she can ramble on and on about her special interests without being considered annoying.

🚷 - Tell one difference between yourself and this oc!

Jack Tithus - His personality is quite similar to mine in some aspects: he is extroverted, likes smoothies, is protective of his friends, tries to be polite whenever he can but is also sarcastic. He is Asexual, I am Asexual. I think the main differences between us are: 1. he is a guy, I'm a girl, 2. he's an older brother, I'm a younger sister, 3. he lives in a futuristic space dystopia, I live in modern-day Brazil.

Renn Atrius - We share a few personality traits, namely a love for reading and drawing, a dislike of oppressive systems, a wish for adventure, we both adore animals, etc. But the main differences between us are: 1. he is a half vampire/dhampir I am a human, 2. he is a guy, I'm a girl, 3. he lives in a dark fantasy medieval setting and I live in modern-day Brazil, 4. he is an introvert

Augustus Grimmure - The only similarities we share is a strange sense of humor, the love for reading, knowing how to play the piano and wanting to make the world a better place for all. There are plenty of differences between us though, too many too count. If I had to choose a few, they would be: 1. he has no qualms about killing and is a cold-blooded necromancer, I couldn't hurt a fly and am terrified of death, 2. he knows magic, I don't lmao, 3. he is a guy, I'm a girl, 4. once more, different settings where we live in, etc

Lyorna Quarr - We're pretty similar when it comes to personality! She's bubbly, I'm bubbly, she likes to make her friends happy, so do I, she has anxiety - SO DO I lmao. She also would collect cats if she could and I adore cats IRL. Differences would be: 1. She is an alien, I am a human, 2. She knows how to fly a spaceship and how to fix a robot, meanwhile I take eons to grasp some technology, 3. Once more, we live in very different places, 4. she has horns, I do not.

[wishhero]

     that would explain then, there was so much he didn't know about, and how interesting it was for him to learn how she was able to perform a burial service at such a young age. siyang nodded his head, a rite of passage made sense, everyone had to start somewhere after all. "that's amazing," his eyes lit up, "how did you do?" did she mess up her first service? or do perfectly well? he was curious to know.

there was a moment of silence, the end of a life was always sad. many cried and there were others who didn't, but it didn't mean they didn't mourn, everyone had their own way of dealing with it. it was the same for him when his grandparents died years ago, he didn't go to the service though, it made him sad during that time. "you're right, everyone goes through with loss differently. although i'm sure for the spirits, it's different for them."

he felt eased out of this fear, the stories he was always told as a child. plus, it felt rather nice to have someone to talk to close to his age, even if he wasn't sure if they had many in common. "so…do people assume you're a teenager or something?" he could see it, yet for the blond actor, he didn't see her like that - director hu is an adult, perhaps it was just this air and maturity she had to herself.

having some childish antics here and there was still okay, even adults could feel like kids. his head nodding, though the two of them could be able to fight all these monsters, but initiating a fight wasn't always a good thing. a light-hearted chuckle emitted from his lips "you're right, i was merely joking director hu. its best we only fight back if any come seeking us out."

plus he wasn't sure if he wanted to take on the fatui, he couldn't tell if they were strong or not, he heard a few things, but yeah, best not to. thinking it was perhaps better to change it about what they both liked. "well…yeah," he laughed, he didn't mind if she was a fan of his work, he loved to meet his fans after all!

siyang laughed sheepishly, he felt somewhat flustered from this praise, he loved it and yet, he always felt like this. "thank you, i always do my best to make each character realistic as possible." a polite bow following, he wouldn't be able to do such a wonderful job if he didn't give it his all.

"well, i was always taught to be kind to others, plus…i don't have it in me to be mean to others." it was just how he was, his head nodding, wanting to listen to her poetry one day, "am i able to hear one soon?" everything about the arts fascinated him, while he couldn't do it all, he loved to hear others and watch others shine.

following behind, he made sure to stay close while observing his surroundings. he heard sounds here and there and tried to not react to them, they'd be in the play too, his character was someone who was brave and used to it. "well, the deceased wife of the detective was a simple tea merchant. she made and sold her own tea, yet her ghost only gives him cryptic clues like visions in his sleep, certain music that plays while he's in the area or even messages that only he can see."

it is rather interesting of a plot, "and the assistance from another ghost is his friend, most think this detective is weird since he 'talks to himself' without realising its the ghosts he's talking to."

Hu Tao hummed to herself. It was a simple question. For the most part. And yet forming an answer tugged at something in her. For a moment she gazed at the few will-o-wisps nearby, before she turned her attention back to Siyang. "I can't lie and say that it wasn't. The last director specifically asked that I perform his burial service. I suppose as a rite of passage, y'know?" Another pause. It wasn't often she was asked this question directly. Often it came in the form of whispered rumors.

"The end of a life is always going to be sad. But there are a lot of other emotions that cannot be ignored either. I believe a lot of it depends on context."

She couldn't help but chuckle some at Siyang's honest mistake when it came to her age. Then again she was showing the side of herself not most got to see.

"Don't worry. I mean it did take me by surprise. It's not often that I'm assumed to be older. Instead its quite the opposite," she replied in a bemused tone recalling just how her clients referred to her business tactics as being rather immature.

"B..beat them up??" the mortician choked out a small laugh. Oh wait. Were they serious? It wasn't like she couldn't stand her own ground. Along with being a spiritual guide it was her job to guard the border of life and death after all. "Aiyaaa...I'm not really one to offensively start a fight, my dear client. However, it is good to be on our toes. After all, even the Fatui have been known to scout these parts. Trust me..I know" she added with an exasperated sigh.

She was glad the topic was brought back to the performing arts again. Creative expression was a good form of escapism. "Is it that obvious that I am a fan or your work?" she teased. How could she not support someone in the arts.

"Not just the plays you put on..but all those other performances as well~"

"It's always good to research a role. I often do the same when I'm looking to inspiration to write my poetry. Who knows. Perhaps this latest play could be just that for the next verse or two," Hu Tao remarked with a grin.

"Your kindness is quite a pleasant rarity to come by." she added with a soften expression.

With that she begin to lead Siyang to the next location. The abandoned village that she had mentioned. A few embered crystal flies flew a head of them as if they were lighting a makeshift path through the eternally darkened woods. The sounds of those 'enemies' could be heard nearby, though at the same time kept their distance. There was always a sense of being watched when anyone traveled across Wuwang Hill. No matter how brave, it was always a gamble.

"Tell me," Hu Tao asked as they continued their walk. "What sort of life did the spirit of this play lead before their untimely end?"

[andswarwrites]

Day 16

This is the first time so far this month that I am deviating from what I had planned to write for the day.  I'd planned to talk about some of the challenges N- faces, but I decided those are her stories to tell, and not mine.  Even though she is very open about what she goes through in life, and I checked with her to ask if I had her permission to write on the subject, I still can't do it.  So rather than talk about the challenges she copes with, I'd like to discuss her gifts.  Specifically, how this kid just breathes music.

I wonder how much her father and I had to do with that.  I remember making playlists of music I loved from a wide range of genres and playing them for entire afternoons while pregnant, because I knew that even while in the womb, a baby can hear music.  Now N- was a very active infant, she was constantly moving and kicking, but while music played she would go still.  Unless she objected to the song, that is.  How do I know she kicked me when she disliked the song, you ask?  Because after she was born, she would cry when I played those same songs that had made her kick me.

Spending five weeks in the N.I.C.U. meant my baby got accustomed to constant noise: voices, alarms, the phone ringing.  We were warned that our baby might have trouble falling asleep in absolute silence.  We came up with a solution: we put on Muse albums to help her fall asleep, specifically Absolution and The Resistance.  S- and I had a habit of listening to music in the car, and N- was introduced at a very young age to Daft Punk, Queen, POTUS, The Beatles, Daughter, the list goes on.

The house that my parents had built was furnished with a piano, and whenever my mom would visit, she would play.  I have a video I took of Mom playing, and N- sitting in her high chair next to her grandmother, babbling happily and running her chubby little fingers over the keys.  Mom noticed that unlike other children, who had a tendency to pound on the keys, N- would actually make little melodies.  Mom purchased My First Piano Adventure books for my daughter, and every time they saw one another, they'd have a lesson. 

When we moved to the South Shore my Mom recommended that we get N- a keyboard and look for a teacher for her.  There was a Long and McQuade near our house, and we saw that they were offering piano lessons, so we signed our daughter up. N-'s teacher was a quiet, gentle young man, who went above and beyond just teaching.  For example, N- composed a piece, and her teacher transcribed it for her.  He gave it to her as a gift.  At the start of the pandemic, N- could no longer have her lessons in person, so for a while she had them over Zoom.

Unfortunately, N-'s teacher had to find other work, so he could no longer continue N-'s lessons.  That was when N- began to take lessons with my mom.  In order for that to work, I have to be in the room, because once her fingers touch the keys N- is in her own little world, so if my mom wants to say anything to her at all, I need to intervene, to help Mom get through to her student.  And we've learned that in order to get N- to focus on music theory, she can't sit in front of the piano; the keys are like a magnet to her fingers.

My sister gave N- a guitar.  N- likes to play it, but she doesn't have endurance: the strings hurt her fingertips.  I told her if she perseveres she'll get callouses, but she's not quite ready to suffer for her art.  N- and I also sing together.  I get into trouble when I don't respect the timing of the song, however.  N- and I have very similar music tastes; she introduced me to Chillhop, and her current favorite group is Crystal Castles.  Her Dad has very specific music tastes, and N- will request certain songs from his SoundCloud, again, driving in the car.

I think of our family's music tastes like a venn diagram.  There's my tastes and there's S-'s and there's N-'s, and there are songs both S- and I agree on, and there are songs that both N- and I agree on, and there are songs S- and N- agree on, and then, in the middle, are the songs the whole family can listen to happily.  I guess that's how all families are.  Except maybe some families don't really have music they can all enjoy together.  I'm so glad that's not the case with our family.  I'd say S- is the pickiest of the three of us, and when he likes a sound he can listen to it on repeat for months, and then he substitutes it for a new song or collection of songs.  For a while it was Bad Lip Reading; that was actually pretty fun.

You know something I just realized?  S- and I have always wanted to include N- in what we enjoy doing: before she was even born I couldn't wait to share our music with her, my favorite books, our favorite shows, our favorite movies, our favorite meals and treats.  Of course we want her to have her own preferences, and we respect them, in fact it delights me when she shares with me that she now has a favorite movie, book, color, style.  As she comes into her own, in so many different ways, I am even influenced by her.  I respect her opinion and personal style.

And to wrap up, when it comes to music, she has it in her very soul.  She always has.  Ever since she started playing her own compositions, I could detect her mood based on the piece she was creating.  When her hamster died, she composed a dirge, and you could hear how much her little heart was mourning.  Other times, she simply overflows with happiness.  I hope she will continue to express herself through her music, all her life.  Just like my writing keeps me grounded, I think her music will help her to process the ups and downs she goes through.  And what an amazing gift, to create something that others can enjoy and relate to.

[notchesandbullets]

Take it From Your Hot Neighbor Baby (Virgin!Sub!Midoriya x Reader)

Art credit: Heijiu Comics

Requested by anon: OMGGGGGG I love your writing, I was thinking If I can make a request on a smut with my baby Izuku Midoriya. Where he's so beautiful and innocent and the older neighbor next door from him likes him and basically targets him for sex which is the reader of course, and he likes her too. So then she totally doms him and invites him to her house and basically go at it as Izuku's innocent's self can't handle the pleasure the reader gives him!If you could do that I love your writing, If not it's cool!!!

Warnings: slight dumbification, precious bby izuku is 19, everything that happens here is consensual, unprotected sex, pet names, overstimulation, virgin!sub!izuku (mainly), Aged up!AU, filthy smut, dirty talk, cursing.

18+

A/N: Thank you for the request, I hope you like it!! i loved writing this :D (feel free to send me another to write, i’m already almost done with what i suspect is your other one xD)

Words: 4k

You grinned as the shared wall between you and your neighbor shook, signaling that the boy from next door was finally home. 

Midoriya Izuku, a passionate and utterly clueless broccoli-haired boy turned fresh pro-hero, sweet and sensitive, everything you ever wanted in a partner. That, and he was clearly too shy to approach you.

You had been neighbors with him and his mom for forever but only until recently, after his admission into UA did you start to see him in another light besides platonic. And it wasn’t until he graduated that he had completely dominated your interest in another way entirely.

It was no secret that he used to be a scrawny kid but since his high school days, he had bulked up considerably. 

Now, with the body of a tank and a soul bursting with positivity, you were completely hooked.

It really was astonishing to you how he continued to maintain that innocent personality after becoming a pro-hero. No one was that optimistic and oblivious all at the same time. 

You had started out with smaller hints, bringing him food once a week to make sure he was eating properly, taking care of him when he was sick or injured and just too stubborn to admit it and go to the hospital, you name it and you’ve done it.

What was extremely exciting at first to be interacting with him like this dulled the moment you realized this baby was so innocent that all your signals were completely going over his head.

The dumb baby. Your dumb baby.

He was fast approaching 20 but you were willing to bet he hadn’t even gotten laid yet. With the way he walked, it was as if he was still the same kid you had met ten years ago.

Your parents had long since moved out of the apartment, going closer to where your grandparents were since they were getting older and needed to be taken care of. You had politely declined their invitation to go with, asking if you could take over the lease on the place since they would no longer be living here.

As their only child, they had a soft spot for you and let you do as you pleased now that you were old enough to be living on your own. They even helped you out with the rent even though that was entirely unnecessary. 

Your day job paid enough.

An upbeat tune floated throughout your apartment and you danced along to the music in nothing but a thin cami and a pair of scarlet lace panties. Since it was so hot today, you had decided to forgo actual clothes. It was perfect, but you were definitely still sweating. 

Tapping a finger to your chin thoughtfully, you recalled how your adorable and hot neighbor’s mom was out working all day and wouldn’t be back until late. Plus, you knew that he had no hero work today, courtesy of the boy telling you himself via text when you checked up on him earlier this week.

Pulling an oversized t-shirt over your head so that it brushed just below your thong clad ass and fell off of your shoulders, you fluffed your hair, giggling to yourself at your reflection in the mirror. 

Today was the day you would make Midoriya yours. 

Grabbing a few cookies from the kitchen that you had made just last night because you felt like it at that moment, you flung open your front door, knocking on his a second later. 

Hopping in place excitedly, you couldn’t contain your enthusiasm. You hadn’t even bothered to message him that you were coming over, knowing that he would prefer it be a surprise. 

“Izuku!!” You cheered when the door opened, immediately thrusting the plate of cookies out towards him. 

He staggered a couple steps back, unprepared for your sudden attack but rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish smile, emerald eyes shining with gratitude.

Midoriya bowed gratefully. “Thank you, Y/N!!” 

It had taken literally years before he was comfortable calling you by your first name without any honorific attached to the end of it. But it was worth the wait as warmth sparked through your heart and a soft smile adorned your features before it was replaced with a mischievous one.

Bounding up to him, you pressed your chest against his purposefully, making it so that you almost lost your balance. You gasped in mock surprise when he instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist to catch you, relishing in how strong his arms felt around you.

Midoriya stuttered as your boobs were practically smushed against his face by how close you were to him. Were they always that big?!

It wasn’t like he masturbated to you everyday or anything. Definitely not.

He groaned, throwing his head back as your body heat encompassed him. 

Who was he kidding, he jerked off to you every spare second he got. He couldn’t help it though. Your beautiful smile always beckoning him over, those alluring eyes of yours enticing him closer and closer until he felt as though he could combust merely by standing in your presence alone.

Giggling, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip and you batted your eyes at him. A shudder ran down his spine and you bit back a smile at the blush that sat on his freckled cheeks.

“Do you want to come over for a little while?” You asked softly, feigning shyness and you rubbed your thighs together. “I have something I want to show you.”

The action didn’t go unnoticed and Midoriya’s mouth dried as the swell of your breasts peeked up over the low scoop of your shirt when he glanced down. 

“Uh, y-yes?” He uttered, voice shaking with uncertainty as he automatically agreed to what you had asked him without even thinking about it.

You giggled, eyes lighting up in excitement. “Great!!”

He stumbled after you as you dragged him next door to your apartment, losing his balance and falling on the couch as you pushed him inside. 

Your eyes shifted from playful to concern as he landed on his back with an ‘oomph’.

You were quick to cup his face, examining him closely. “Oh no, Izuku, are you alright?” 

“Y-Y/N!!!” He stammered out, face bright red at your proximity.

“Are you alright?” You repeated, uncharacteristically serious and seeing as how you were asking him more than one question, he nodded to both. 

You chuckled, leaning in close. His cheeks burned at your proximity and although you wanted so badly to tease him, you needed to get something straight first.

“You ever been fucked before, baby?” You cooed sweetly and a visible shiver shot down his spine.

He gaped for a moment, not used to you saying something so brazenly but shook his head wordlessly. 

You smiled, your tone taking on a gentle lilt as you sensed his nervousness. “Want me to be your first?”

This time he didn’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” He whispered, barely breathing as he finally confessed what he had been longing for ever since he turned of age. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t outwardly show it, but your heart skipped a beat at his admission and the butterflies fluttered uncontrollably.

“Yeah?” You bit your lip to contain the wide smile. “Something tells me that you want to be played with, am I right?”

A whine bubbled past his lips and your smile turned wicked. Oh, you were going to have so much fun with him. You wondered how he would look when you played with his nipples, which you sure would be so sensitive it would have him hard in a heartbeat, or how he looked writhing under you when he was about to cum. 

Anticipation thrummed through your veins and you couldn’t believe that after all this time, you finally had the opportunity to give him that kind of pleasure. 

“Such a good boy.” You crooned softly and he audibly keened, stretching towards you desperately as you denied him a kiss. “What’s your safeword, baby?”

Midoriya’s head was spinning and his brain was short-circuiting from how unbelievably close you were to him. The sweet smell of your perfume flooded his senses and he swallowed thickly, very much aware of how little clothes you were wearing. You had yet to touch him and he was already a goner.

“S-Safeword?” He stammered out, his eyes shutting automatically as you threaded your fingers through his hair, a small moan breaking through the weighted silence as you scratched his scalp. 

You observed his every move, every flutter of his lashes as he fell under your spell without even trying to succumb. 

“Mmhm…” You hummed. “A word that you can use at any time and I’ll stop everything.”

A safeword was for both parties but you were fairly sure that you wouldn’t need it, being more experienced than him and aware of your boundaries. But just in case, you whispered that little tidbit of information in his ear so that he wasn’t left out of the loop.

“What if…” Midoriya gulped, restraining himself to keep his hands at his sides no matter how desperately he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to know if they were as soft as they looked. “C-Can’t I just tell you to stop?”

You frowned a tiny bit, not put off by his question but rather how fucked out he looked already. The poor boy was already straining in his pants, the bulge making your mouth water but you kept your head on straight. 

“You can.” You agreed. “If that’s what you want, we can do that.”

He glanced away from you, thinking hard. He wasn’t all innocent. He had watched porn before when dared to by Bakugou after one of the class movie nights at Heights Alliance back when they were at UA, and he was embarrassed how quickly he got attached to the videos that had bondage and overstimulation.

It always looked so enticing. He wanted to know what it felt like to be pinned down and overpowered until pleasure rode on every one of his senses. 

He wanted you to do that to him. 

“W-What about if I just used your name?”

Midoriya cringed as soon as he suggested it and took it back faster than you could react, another idea tumbling out of his mouth in a split second. 

“Black?” He whispered, avoiding eye contact with you. 

Baby boy blinked so nervously, worried you might refuse or reject him for any reason and you took his chin in between your thumb and forefinger, drawing his face close to yours. 

“Alright baby, that’s perfect.” You reassured softly. “Either one of us can use it and then everything stops, okay?”

He nodded, getting more excited as your breath fanned across his lips. 

“Need to hear you say it.” You demanded quietly. 

His green curly hair bounced as he nodded vigorously. “I understand!!”

Midoriya stiffened for a moment in surprise as you finally pressed your lips against his, sealing his first kiss and he swore his heart stopped beating. Then, he melted into putty as you moved your lips skillfully against his, coaxing him to return it with as much lust and passion as you were igniting within him.

You pulled away to lean in close to his ear, trailing a finger up and down his chest playfully.

“Let me take care of you, Izuku~” You cooed, slyly licking the shell of his ear, savoring in the shiver that shot down his spine as a result of your ministrations.

You continued down, planting hot and wet open-mouthed kisses along his jaw as he whined and wriggled beneath you. Trailing down his neck to his collar bones and then his bare chest as you ripped open his shirt in one swift movement, you pinned his wrists above his head.

A protest ripped from his throat at your display of dominance.

“Y-Y/N!! I wanted to—”

“To what?” You questioned smugly.

Midoriya whimpered pathetically and you smirked. 

He blushed, looking away. The boy was built like a bull but was an absolutely softie, innocent pure little bean at heart. He didn’t have what it took to take over. 

“You wanted to touch me?” You asked, laving your tongue around one of his sensitive nipples. “You wanted to be on top?”

His face scrunched up at the strange sensation, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out as you bit down on the tender flesh.

You licked your lips seductively, making a show of your tongue grazing over your teeth as you gazed down at him through hooded eyes. “Do you think you deserve to touch me after being such a bad boy?”

You heard him every night. The walls were thin in the cheap apartment complex you lived in. Too thin. 

“Don’t touch me until I say so.” You ordered.

You heard every wanton moan that bubbled past his pouty lips, such pretty little sounds that you wanted to hear all for yourself. You were jealous of the others in the vicinity that can undoubtedly hear him as well. The only thing that settled your heart at ease was the luscious cries of your name falling from his lips. 

And now, all your neighbors would know just who he belonged to.

Midoriya gulped nervously and you reveled in the adrenaline pumping through your veins at being in control and dominating him. Your shirt rode up as you straddled his hips, and he wriggled beneath you, wanting nothing more than to touch you.

You trailed a finger from his chest all the way to his navel, teasing the waistband of his pants. He whined as you wiggled your ass down to sit comfortably on top of his thighs. Deftly unbuttoning his jeans, your eyes flickered back up to him.

“Oh my, these look so uncomfortable.” You mock pouted, sneakily biting the zipper of his fly and pulling it down. “Do you want me to take them off for you?”

You grinned as he involuntarily bucked his hips up into your feather-light touch, tears collecting at the corner of his eyes in frustration. Slowly pulling down his pants and boxers together, your eyes bugged out as you saw what he was packing.

“Oh…” You mused. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

If you thought he was big, you were dead wrong. This boy was hung as a horse. Well endowed to the max, he was easily packing eight inches and you couldn’t even fit your hands all away around his thick girth. 

You stroked him as best as you could but judging by that guttural groan that erupted from his mouth, you’d say you were doing a pretty good job. 

“Please!!” Midoriya begged, practically sobbing as you teased him and it was like music to your ears. “Please, Y/N, make me feel good!!”

“Yeah,” You whispered, suckling on the vein that ran on the underside of his stiff member. “You want me to make you cum, baby?”

“Yes, please!!” He cried, fisting the fabric of the sofa, remembering your rule not to touch you yet. 

But it was killing him.

The foreplay had made you wet enough to take him and you weren’t keen on waiting another second longer.

Positioning yourself over his leaking head, the tip of his engorged shaft rubbed against your puffy folds as you pushed your thong to the side.

Midoriya’s eyes bulged out of his head as he saw the red lace and he couldn’t stop his hands from shooting to your waist as you threw your shirt up over your head, leaving you in that thin cami that left nothing to the imagination. 

“F-Fuck—” You cursed as you sank down on him, thighs trembling from the effort of taking him. “Izuku, baby, you’re so big.”

He was rock hard and pressing against your inner walls just right. It had been so long since someone had filled you up like this and now that you had him, no one even came close to any of those prior. 

Midoriya was huffing, moaning uncontrollably as the rush of pleasure he got by being encased in your tight heat so quickly. His hands gripped your hips, kneading the flesh of your ass as he started to rock you back and forth in his lap.

You completely ignored the fact that he disobeyed your order. 

“Dumb baby,” You cooed softly. “Does that pussy feel good around your cock? Huh? Tell me.”

“Yes— hhgh, I love it so much, Y/N, you feel so tight, ahh!!” He mewled, unable to think of anything else except how good your cunny felt fluttering around him.

His face was beautifully flushed, unable to tear his gaze off of where his cock had disappeared into you. The sticky wetness smeared against his hip bones made your arousal evident and he was impossibly turned on at the vision in front of him.

You threw your head back as he took over control, gyrating your hips for you before you were even adjusted to his massive length. A breathy moan tumbled out of your lips as his fingers knotted their way into your hair, yanking it back so that your hips canted into him with every thrust. 

“I-Izuku!!” You moaned loudly as he roughly and sporadically pounded into you. 

You squealed as he pulled you down to his chest to get a better angle, all the breath vanishing from your lungs as he planted his heels and fucked up into you so fast that you would’ve fallen off from the force if he wasn’t holding onto you with an iron grip.

“Sorry, Y/N!!” He broke off with a whine and burrowed his face into your neck as you clenched around him, his hips stuttering. “But I’m about to—”

You shrieked as he released inside of you, painting your walls with his thick, milky white cum. Chest heaving, you pushed him down and straightened up, clicking your tongue.

“Such a selfish baby.” You crooned, controlling your breathing enough to put up a confident front. “I didn’t even get to cum yet.”

His eyes widened in horror at not satisfying you first. “Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t— Gah!!”

His earnest apology was interrupted  as you began bouncing on him again, keen on reaching your high. His spent length twitched inside of you and he whimpered, eyes screwed shut at the pain.

“Y/N!! It… It hurts!!” Midoriya whimpered pitifully, his eyes screwed shut at the overstimulation.

“Aw,” Your smile was sadistic and you threw your ass back into his lap intentionally, causing him to throb within you. “Does it?”

“Yes!!” He cried out. “Fuck, please stop!!”

You pouted sadly, gyrating your hips faster. “But I haven’t even cum yet.”

It was too much. Your words spun with those sinful rocks of your hips was making a lethal mix of pain and pleasure shoot through his system and he whined, pawing at your hips. 

“Y/N, please!!” He begged, unsure what he was begging for at this point. 

It didn’t take long for him to get hard again. You weren’t sure if his short refractory period was a side effect of his power or the fact that he had just lost his virginity to you and wanted you again, but you were definitely going to oblige him either way.

Midoriya arched into your scalding touch as you leaned down to kiss him once again. Your soft lips and the hot cavern of your mouth distracted him as your tongues danced together and he almost forgot about the fact that he was balls-deep inside of you. 

Until you started to move again. 

His cry was muffled as you licked it out of his mouth before pulling away.

Your grin widened and you rocked your hips back and forth at a mind-blowing pace, reducing the blubbering boy beneath you into a whimpering mess.

But your confident façade soon vanished as his hands found purchase on your hips and bucked up wildly. 

The grin slipped off your face and you whimpered, fingers splaying on his bare chest for balance as he went wild, fucking up into you with abandon. 

You could do nothing else other than hold on and pray you wouldn't fall off of him as he took over.

Biting your lip, you desperately tried to regain control. “Izuku—” 

He gritted his teeth, ignoring you and your eyes widened as green lightning started to surround his body. 

Your eyes widened. “Wait—!”

He didn't. 

Your head tipped back and the loudest scream you've ever produced ripped from your throat as he used One for All to completely destroy your pussy. But to your disbelief, he didn’t stop, he didn’t even slow down when you contracted around him.

His hips slammed up into yours at a breaknecking speed and tears blurred your vision as you cried out, sobbing with pleasure as he finally made you cum.

“Y/N, you’re milking my cock so much!!” Midoriya blurted out with a raspy moan as another orgasm spiraled to you and you shrieked, this one hitting harder than the last.  

At some point, you blacked out.

When you came to, Midoriya was hovering over you worriedly, his green eyes glistening with concern as he called your name over and over again.

Sitting up with a groan, you realized that he had laid you down on the couch and covered you with a blanket.

“Y/N?” The boy asked, brushing the hair out of your eyes as he sat down by your side.

You offered him a smile, every bone in your body protesting as you sat up. Midoriya was helping you in a second, ignoring your feeble protests that you could do it yourself. 

The next minute, he played with his fingers awkwardly. 

“Was… Was it good for you?” He asked timidly, blinking his big eyes up at you. 

You cracked a smile at how earnest he was. Cutie. 

“Of course it was.” You murmured, planting a soft kiss on his forehead before staring straight into his eyes. “You know this means you're mine, right?”

Midoriya blinked his doe eyes, mouth parting slightly. “Eh?!”

You smirked. “Yup.”

“Really?!?!” He asked excitedly, leaning forward to stick his face close to yours and you giggled. 

Adorable. Simply adorable.

“Yeah, baby.” You whispered, cupping his face and pecking his freckled cheek. He was so sweet. So pure. 

You couldn’t wait to defile him more. Wait until he was exposed to the world of BDSM.

Licking your lips slyly, you smirked. “You’re all mine.”

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel​

[fandom-imagines]

Little Miss Favourite

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Teacher!Snape X Legal!Granger!Reader 

Warnings: Teacher x student relationship x)

Words: 2.5k 

It would be a lie to say that the Granger sisters weren’t incredibly smart, anyone could see it. Whilst Hermione, the younger sibling, was exceptionally talented with spells, Y/N was talented in the art of potion making; not that she wasn’t talented at other things also.

Due to her consistently high scores in potions, Y/N had caught the attention of her favourite teacher: Severus Snape, despite his annoyance towards the younger Granger. Whilst he found Hermione insufferable, Y/N was more than tolerable in his honest opinion; not that he would ever admit that to anyone, maybe not even himself.

Perhaps it was her confident personality, her boldness or her smarts, Severus would never know. Of course, it wasn’t only him that had his attention focused on her, many people did. Those people included Hermione’s friends. Y/N knew this, how could she not? The way Harry did his best to show off whilst Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron got all embarrassed, it was obvious; at least to her. Even though her personalist screamed confident, she wasn’t mean like other people at Hogwarts, not often at least.  

“Morning Professor,” her words were sweet as she greeted the dark-haired man, early as always.

“Good morning, Miss Granger,” Snapes tone was kinder than usual, but without it being clear. To anyone else, it would seem normal.

“Got a date for the Yule Ball yet, sir?” Whilst her question was genuine and not flirtatious, Severus couldn’t help but wish it was.

“Why would I bother with something as childish as having a date?”

“I shall take that as a no,”

He could hear the stool she usually seated at drag out from beneath the desk before she seated herself on top of it.

“What about you Miss Granger?” Y/N, who had forgotten what she had previously asked him, was confused at his question. “Surely someone like you must have a date,”

A sight blush ran up her cheeks at his words, eyes wide.

“No sir,” she giggled. “Not interested in anyone that’s asked me.”

Her words caught his attention, eyes glancing towards her for a split second before returning to the work he was marking. It was Harry Potters; he could almost roll his eyes.

“Why is that?”

“Immature men that feel like I should go with them because they’re popular? No thank you, give me a mature and unentitled man any day,”

For the second time in five minutes her words caught his attention, suddenly distracted by what she had said rather than being distracted by Potter’s work.

“I see,”

It wasn’t long until the rest of her class began to pile into the dungeon, taking their usual seats as Fred and George came to sit beside her at their typical desk.

“Morning, Y/N/N,” the greeted in perfect synergy, almost as though it had been rehearsed but she knew better than to expect that and simply laughed.

“We heard something,” Fred began.

“Potter is wanting to ask you to be his date to the Yule Ball.” George finished, the twins laughing at Y/N’s shocked face.

“Please say you’re joking,” she pleaded, desperately hoping that it wasn’t true. “He’s so much younger than me!”

“Oh and Hermione is going with Krum,”

“This day just gets worse and worse,”

“Weasleys, detention.” A harsh voice interrupted their conversation as to be expected.

“But sir!” They groaned, once again in unison. “She was talking too!”

“Not as much as you two.”

*

The great hall was quiet, everyone there working on their essays, everyone being the fourth years. Fortunately for her, Y/N was allowed to sit and work alongside the younger students having been given permission by Professor Snape himself.

“Hey Y/N,” Harry’s quiet voice pulled her attention away from the parchment in front of her. “I was just wondering-“ His words were soon cut off by a hand shoving his head into his own parchment.

“Silence,”

“Yes, Professor Snape.”

An amused smirk covered Y/N’s lips as she turned her own attention back to the work in front of her that was soon to be finished.

“Later guys,” she shot the trio one last smile as she walked towards Snape, handing him her essay with a small smile, one he almost wished to return.

“I’m sure this will be as excellent as always, Granger.”

“I sure hope so, sir.”

With one final nod, Severus dismissed her.

*

Music blasted throughout the hall as the Tri-wizard champions begun to dance with their partners. Y/N and her own date, who ended up being George due to both forgetting about the dance until the night before, stood laughing at Ron’s dress robes.

“He looks like our great aunt,” George chuckled, his words making Y/N snort in amusement.

“Poor kid. He looks so embarrassed,” she giggled.

“Well, looks like its our turn to dance. Care to join me, Granger?” George grinned, offering him her hand which she gladly took.

“After you, but can you even dance?”

“Nope,”

“Good, me neither.”

Their dance was horrendous, and they were both glad when the music ended, the pair running off the dance floor in laughter, hands still together.

“That was- “George began, only to have his sentence finished by his dance partner.

“Dreadful?”

“Yeah,”

Their fit of laughter was cut short by another voice joining the conversation. “Nice dancing guys!”

“Shut up, Fred!” This time it was Y/N and George’s turn to speak in unison, something that triggered a smirk to grow on Fred’s lips.

“Alright, alright, calm down you two,”

*

“I almost feel bad for him,” Fred chuckled, catching George and Y/N’s attention as they followed his gaze.

“I would but he gave us detention and not her, talk about favouritism!”

An idea popped into Y/N’s head, as she removed herself from the twins’ arms.

“Where are you going, Y/N/N?” Fred asked. “Wait are you-“

“I feel bad for him, okay!”

The twins burst into laughter as they realised her plan.

“I bet you my entire allowance that she can’t get him to dance,” Fred whispered as they watched Y/N walking towards Snape.

“You’re on,”

*

“Evening, Professor,” Y/N greeted, desperately trying her best to not show her nervousness.

“Good evening, Miss Granger,” He returned her greeting, turning his attention fully to her. “Shouldn’t you be with your date?”

“George? No, we both forgot we needed dates, so we went together. He’ll cope on his own,” The girl giggled, glancing back at said man to see both twins smirking at her. “You look lonely, want to dance?”

“Do I look like the sort of person to dance?”

“Do I?” She joked, enjoying the small smirk that pulled up at his lips. “It’ll be one dance and then I’ll let you go back to enjoying your own company. It’s a teacher and student dance anyway!”

*

“No way…” Fred gasped, watching as Snape and Y/N headed to the dancefloor.

“I knew she could do it! You now owe me your entire allowance,”

“Shit,”

*

“See it wasn’t too bad, was it, Professor?” Y/N giggled, aware of the fact that everyone had been staring at her dancing with Snape.

“You stepped on my foot at least three times,”

“I said I don’t dance!”

She celebrated a silent victory as Snape shook his head, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“This is true,”

“Welp, I’ll leave you to enjoy your own company again!” The older Granger grinned, giving him one final nod as she headed by to the twins who were still in shock.

“Shut your mouth, Fred. You’ll catch flies,” Y/N smirked, placing her hand on Fred’s chin to shut up mouth that had been open since she managed to convince Snape to dance.

“Did you bewitch him or something?! How on earth did you manage to get him to dance?” George asked in shock.

“Night guys, thanks for the fun time.” She winked, downing the rest of her drink that she had left before leaving the hall to head to bed.

*

“Miss Granger, you’re late,” Snapes’ words ran throughout the dungeon.

It was strange, how he knew it was her before he had even turned around to face her.

“Sorry Professor, I had a detention.”

“Well now you have another, stay after class.”  

*

“Good luck, Snapes detentions are horrible,” George chuckled, giving Y/N a reassuring pat on the back.

“Yeah, we would know, Miss Favourite,” Fred chimed in with his typical teasing tone.

“Thanks, that makes me feel better. I’ll see you guys later,”

“Good luck.”

The second everyone had left the classroom, Snapes attention was on her.

“So why did you get a detention?” His words were questioning, not malicious. It was almost as though he was genuinely curious.

“I got in a duel,” Y/N shook her head with a slight laugh. “Malfoy was being, well Malfoy. So, yeah.”

A grin covered her lips as Snape shook his head in slight amusement; it was cute in a way.

“Next time don’t get caught, it makes my classes a lot easier,”

“Got ya, Professor,”

“Good, you may leave,”

*

“That was quick, did he have to leave?” Fred, who had been waiting outside for about two minutes, asked.

“Little miss favourite,” were her only words as she shot Fred a wink, just like she had done at the ball a few weeks ago.

“I swear he has a crush on you or something,”

“Yeah, imagine. Professor Severus Snape developing a crush on a student, nice one George. Why are you two even here?”

The twins, who had been caught red-handed, shared an amused look, quickly rushing into action by grasping Y/N’s arms, tugging her along.

“We need someone to test our latest concoction!” They spoke in unison.

“No, no way! Merlin knows what you’ve put in that!”

“Either you help us, or we’ll tell everyone about your little crush on the potions professor,”

“Fine.”

*

“Fred and George Weasley, you come here this instance!” Y/N’s voice shrieked, her words echoing throughout the entire Gryffindor common room.

“Run!” Was all she heard, followed by laughter and footsteps leaving through the portrait.

Y/N rushed after them, hell bent on causing as much annoyance to them as they had to her.

“I will kill you!”

“That’s not very nice now, is it? You love us really,” George teased her once more before darting away.

“George Weasley I am faster than you and you know it!”

It wasn’t a lie, Y/N had been, and always will be, faster than him. No matter how many pranks they had to run away from, the twins would never be able to outrun her.

“What have you done to my hair?!” Y/N demanded to know the second she caught both boys by the collar of their robes. “Please say this comes out, I don’t want my hair to be yellow and green forever, I hate it!”

“Well you see, Y/N/N,” Fred chuckled with a hint of nervousness. “We don’t know, you’re our first consumer!”

“Fred, I am begging you, I look like a lollipop.”

“I’m sure you taste as sweet as one too, Y/N,” a Slytherin by-passer commented, clearly having heard the entire conversation.

“Shut th-“

“Detention and ten points from Slytherin,”

Fred, George and Y/N shared a terrified look as Professor Snape stood behind the trio.

“Trying a new style are we, Granger? It is quite bold,” despite the blunt words, there was an almost undetectable teasing tone laced in his words.

“Not willingly, Professor,”

“Then why did you do it?”

“They blackmailed me!”

“With what?”

The twins smirked at each other, as though they were sent on a mission to ruin her day.

“She has a crush, Professor,” George smirked at the, now multi-coloured haired, girl.

“George Weasley!” In a swift movement, Y/N rushed towards the ginger, only to be stopped by a hand holding her robe. “Professor let me go!”

“Isn’t she cute, Fred?”

“Adorable, George,”

“I hate you both.” Y/N, who had accepted her fate of being held my Snape (which didn’t seem too bad in all honesty), sighed.

“You love us really,”

“You wish, Fredrick.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“If you three have quite finished,” Snape interrupted their quarrel. “I think I know how to remove that colour from your hair, Miss Granger. Follow me.” There was no room for debate as the potions master turned and rushed towards his classroom.

“I’ll kill you,” Y/N mouthed before rushing after him.

*

“Sit,” Snape said, lightly kicking a stool out towards Y/N before walking towards a cupboard that, she assumed, had potions or at least ingredients for them.

“Are you sure this will work, Professor? I really don’t want anyone else to see me like this,”

“You mean you don’t want your crush to see you like this?” He said with a raised eyebrow.

“He already has,” her words were a mere murmur, but it was one Severus had heard.

“The Slytherin?” Snape asked whilst he grabbed a weird looking liquid. “Here drink.”

“Merlin, no. I don’t even know who that was. This tastes disgusting,”

“Do you want the colour gone or not?”

“Sorry,”

Snape let out a small sigh, his arms crossing by habit.

“Potter, perhaps?”

“Are we playing guess the crush or something?”

“Well, we have time. This needs a second dose in around thirty minutes,”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to sigh.

“It’s probably not a good idea to play this game with me,” she joked. “I’m quite competitive,”

“You would have done well in Slytherin,”

“I doubt it,”

“Under me you would have done brilliantly. You are doing brilliantly already.”

A bright red blush ran up Y/N’s cheeks at his use of words.

“You should be careful what you say, Professor. Someone might interpret your words wrong,”

“That someone being you?”

“Perhaps,”

“I see.”

An awkward silence filled the air, something that was uncommon between the pair.

“I’m sorry, that was a bit straight-forward,”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Sorry,”

“Don’t be,”

Whilst his reply was short, the words caught her attention, her head spinning to face him.

“Don’t be?”

“I said what I said.” Came his simple response.

“I don’t understand,”

“Maybe little miss favourite should do some thinking,”

“Oh…” She whispered. “Oh! Here I am thinking I’m just a teacher’s pet,”

He smiled slightly. “Not quite, Miss Granger,”

Footsteps echoed throughout the dungeon as he walked towards Y/N, his fingers lightly pushing against her chin to bring her to face him, her cheeks as red as flames.

“So, I’m your little miss favourite?”

“Clearly,”

[rubysunnday]

your song | c.b

Summary: Being in love with Colin Bridgerton is hard when the man keeps running off to different continents for months at a time. But the letters he writes and the songs he sends keep the romance alive.

It had been six, long months since Y/N had last seen Colin Bridgerton.

He had gone off travelling again, disappearing off one night with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek goodbye and a promise to write.

The romance between Y/N and Colin had struck out of nowhere. One night they'd been dancing as nothing more than friends and the next moment, there was something more. The way his hands tightened on her waist whenever Cressida said something mean felt different. The way he wrote her notes with every bunch of flowers he sent read differently.

The way he took her hand as she stepped out a carriage, his fingers gently entwining with hers, felt different.

Y/N had fallen head over heels for a man who hated staying in the same place for more than a week. And it was annoying.

He'd written to her more than he had his own family. He wrote to her everyday, judging from the dates on his letters and they arrived in bundles from the postman, all tied with a ribbon that somehow managed to match the dress she was wearing that day.

In the dozens of letters Colin had sent her, he wrote down every detail of the place he was in from the sunsets to the colour of the postboxes. The friends he was traveling with were both music students, desperate for either a career break or to find a new purpose in life.

One of them, Freddy, has been teaching me about the beauty of song writing and how all great pieces of music begin. I'm nowhere near the grandure of Mozart or the beauty of Beethoven or any musicale we've ever attended, but I'm enjoying it nonetheless.

I've found that in my writings there's always one thing I can never quite describe correctly. I search through books for the right words that could even begin to do you justice, my dear Y/N, but I find none. There's no word for describing the way you watch a musicale, or the way you talk about art and reading. There's no word on earth that could do you justice.

So, I hope this poor man's attempt at a song, written under strict guidance and a watchful eye, will begin to convey, just how much I love you.

Y/N had read the letter over and over, her eyes scouring each and every line, taking in the sloppy slant of Colin's handwriting and how he smudged the ink in his desperation to write and write and write.

She pulled out the final sheet of the letter and let out a small surprised gasp. It was a piece of music, the notes written precisely and intricately, the lyrics written messily and scrunched up underneath it. It was obvious which part Colin had been trusted with.

To Y/N

Your Song - by Colin Bridgerton

Y/N stood up from her desk and walked over to the pianoforte that sat in the corner of her room, covered in a thin layer of dust. Y/N wasn't an expert on the pianoforte, her and Colin had bonded over their failed attempts at playing. Colin could sing, though. And as Y/N read through the lyrics, tentatively playing a couple of notes on her dust keys, she could hear him singing it, his hand in her hair as they watched the sunset from the garden bench at Bridgerton House.

Their romance had been kept quiet. The ton was used to the two being openly affectionate with each other, constantly hugging or holding hands and none of them realised when it turned from friendship to romance.

Y/N and Colin had sat in the rose garden of Aubrey Hall one summer night, the sounds of the ball drifting over to them along the gentle breeze. Colin had quietly begun singing along to the song, his hands gently tracing a dance on Y/N's bare arm as she rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes shut.

Colin's singing voice was beautiful. And as Y/N played the song he'd written for her, she could imagine him sitting beside her and singing along, his hands over hers as she slowly played the notes.

Attending the opera without him felt bizarre. They'd begun a routine of sitting next to each other in the box, sharing the opera glasses and softly commenting on the music, the costumes, the lighting.

Y/N sat down in the box, scooting her chair close to the balcony. Her mother sat down next to her and sighed happily as she took in the view.

"Isn't this lovely?" She asked, picking up her opera glasses and looking through them at the stage. "I do love a concert."

Y/N said nothing, merely nodded. She kept thinking back to Colin's letter, of his promised return home in time for the concert. In time for him to sit down next to her, take her hand, and whisper about the music.

Y/N glanced up at the box the Bridgerton's sat in and tried not to let out a defeated sigh - still no Colin. Francesca caught her looking and gave her a sympathetic smile along with a shake of her head and Y/N turned back to the stage, trying not to let the disappointment sink in.

The orchestra began warming up, the music notes blending in with the quiet chatter of the audience. Y/N couldn't stop her eyes from constantly scanning the audience, the stage, the boxes, for any sign of Colin.

An excited whisper went over the audience as the lights were dimmed and the lights on the stage that illuminated the thick, red curtain were turned on.

For a minute there was silence. And then the orchestra began playing as the curtain flew up, revealing the actors on the stage.

My gift is my song, and this one's for you

And you can tell everybody

Y/N felt her heart do a bizarre skip. She recognised those words. She'd read them over and over again each night before she went to sleep. The piece of paper they had arrived on was now well worn and creased and she'd meticulously copied out the notes and the lyrics for fear of loosing them.

She scanned the audience again and felt her heart stop. The concert faded away as she focused on the man standing in the corner near the side door, a tiny smile on his face.

Colin Bridgerton stood with his hands behind his back, smiling up at her, his chin covered in the stubble of a beard. He was tanner then before and his hair had gotten lighter but it was still Colin.

Her Colin.

You see I've forgotten, if they're green or they're blue Anyway the thing is, what I really mean Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen

Y/N giggled and felt a smile appear on her face as she gave Colin the smallest wave possible, not wanting to attract attention. Colin waved back and nodded to the door that led to the auditorium. Y/N nodded in return and watched Colin disappear out the side door.

"Go on, then," Y/N's mother said, tapping her daughter's knee. "Go find him."

Y/N quietly slipped from her seat and pushed open the curtain, blinking at the bright lights in the corridor.

As she made her way down to the auditorium, she could hear angry voices that were trying not to yell. She rounded the corner and saw Anthony, Violet and Benedict Bridgerton all standing in front of a bemused looking Colin.

"You said you'd be back by the concert!" Anthony hissed, clearly irritated by Colin's lateness.

"It's hardly my fault the train got stuck by a tree, is it, Anthony?" Colin asked, sighing. "I'm here now, however, am I not? Stop fussing."

Anthony went off again, flailing his limbs around as he tried to knock some sense into Colin, his mother trying to be the peace maker between the two as Benedict tried, and failed, not to laugh.

"This isn't funny, Benedict!" Anthony snapped, turning to face his other brother as he snorted.

Benedict's smirk faded as he realised he was about to be on the end of Anthony's rant. He sighed and crossed his arms, physically bracing himself as Anthony went off again.

Colin, looking both bemused and annoyed at his family, turned and spotted Y/N, hovering at the stop of the stairs. His face fell from an annoyed smirk into a stunned smile as he stared up at her.

"They're actually both," Y/N said to Colin, her voice quiet enough that the three other Bridgerton's present had yet to realise she was there.

"What are?" Colin asked, walking up to meet her, taking each step slowly.

"My eyes," Y/N replied, smiling, dropping the skirt of her dress. "They're both colours."

Colin chuckled and looked like he was blushing. "I told you I wasn't good at song writing."

"Everyone else seemed to enjoy it," she replied as she heard the audience applaud loudly.

"Because Freddy worked on it for months until tonight," Colin replied. "Even then he wasn't sure about performing it. If he'd performed the version I'd written the ton would be complaining. I'm not very good at it."

"I think you're better at it than you believe, Mr Bridgerton," Y/N said as she continued walking down until they were both on the large step that broke up the stairs. "I'm not sure about the beard, however."

"Why?" Colin asked, a hand subconsciously flying to his chin and running across the stubble.

"Well, it just means that every time I go to kiss you, I will have to be tickled and scratched by it," she replied, her hand covering the one resting on his chin. She entwined her fingers with his. "But I can live with that."

Colin laughed and leant forward, kissing Y/N with the passion and desperation of not seeing her for six months. His hand rested on the back of her head, carefully minding her hair as his thumb stroked her skin.

"I think I'm going to stay here for now," Colin said softly, breaking apart from her, resting his forehead on hers. "Stay with you."

Y/N looked up at him, feeling his breath on her cheeks. "Colin Bridgerton, are you -"

"Yes," Colin said, cutting her off. "I am. Because it took being apart from you for six months to realise what I was missing. To realise that I travel the world searching for purpose and reason, when, in reality, my reason is you. The purpose of my entire being is you.

"Without you, I'm half a man. Without you, the travelling begins to feel like running away and I don't want to run from you. I want to take your hand and run with you. Forever if we wanted. I can run until you can't run anymore. And when you can't run anymore, I'll carry you."

Y/N smiled, pressing her lips together as she savoured the taste of his kiss. "Words are your forte, Mr Bridgerton," she said softly, stroking the side of his head, threading her fingers through his curls. "I'll run with you to the end of the world and back again. I'll take your hand in mine and I will never let you go. Not again."

Colin pressed his lips to her and Y/N smiled against his lips before returning the kiss. He smelt of his cologne, the sweet caramel biscuits he loved and, somehow, the floral, homely scent of Bridgerton House

He smelt of home. He was her home. Simply being in his arms was enough.

"I've just realised something," Colin whispered in her ear.

Y/N looked up at him, staring into his eyes. "What?"

"My family is watching us."

Y/N glanced behind him and saw the three Bridgerton's pretending to occupy themselves with anything else. Benedict was investigating a painting, Anthony was admiring the ceiling and Violet had been reading the program but glanced up at them with a smile.

And despite it all, Y/N let out a snort of laughter and dropped her head on to Colin's shoulder. "Of course they are."

Colin giggled, actually giggled, and rested his head on top of hers. "Better get used to it, love, I doubt they'll ever stop staring."

[bellarosethefangirl]

Hellooo! I'd like to make a request.

JJBA, pt. 3, no villains please! And no drastic age differences.. don't wanna be paired with ol' pops Joseph. (Though I did like him alot in pt. 2) Yes, I would like to know how their stand interacts with me.

I would be enthralled by their stand. I'm a very curious person and a bit more daring than I should be at times. I'd definitely make some attempt to interact with their stands if I got the go ahead. I also know that their stand is literally an extension of them, and so they'd be treated accordingly! They're as human as they come I imagine and wouldn't be exempt from any doting.

I'm a particularly caring individual and make an effort to learn those I'm close to. I've been described as motherly or wholesome on multiple accounts. In my head, a relationship of any sorts goes both ways, so if anything is to work out you need to know the other party for who they are entirely. I'm also a rather open individual and typically don't care to hide much about myself - the good or bad - though I do sometimes struggle a bit with communication, and understanding myself. It also takes me a considerable amount of time to open up and be comfortable - but once I'm there, I'm there. I'm an impulsive person and it sometimes leads to conflict or misunderstandings. I'm emotional but not in an irrational sense, I'm not afraid to feel whatever I may feel and know I'll need to process it regardless of whether I want to or not. I would say I'm a "selective extrovert." I can get along with most anyone and consider myself good at socializing, but most people only get to see the tip of the iceberg with me. I'm talkative and can hold a good convo, partly because I get tense with silence. It's not often that I'm comfy just sitting and not talking with someone - but those I can do so with are the ones closest to me. I'm also pretty sarcastic at times, I joke around and am playful often but know when not to. I can also be flirtatious, but usually not with much intent.

I'm 18, at a grand height of 5'3. I'm a curly redhead, hair reaching about to my shoulders, with fair skin + freckles, blue eyes. My facial features aren't that angular. I have a realistic hourglass figure, but my assests.. (breasts, buttocks) are what I would considerate medium, and I have full thighs.

Pisces, ENTP, 8w9. I'm female and use she/her. I consider myself pansexual, but I've only had experience with males, so I'd prefer to be paired with one.

Any date where I could be in the moment is good for me. I love trying new things, seeing new places, learning new info. I could never turn a date at a museum of any sort down. Science, art, music, don't matter! But I also enjoy going shopping, or eating at new food, I'm definitely a foodie. I like zoos and aquariums, sorta. I often feel bad that they live so confined, but I know a lot of the time it's because they couldn't be relased into the wild anyhow. I also enjoy dates that more simplistic, going to a park to feed the ducks, star gazing, a car ride with nothing but the music sounding. But most of all I wanna enjoy my company, I wanna speak with them and exchange interests or sit quietly while soaking the feeling in. What's their perspective on it all? Have you tried this food? Do you know any information on this animal or even plant? What do you feel or see in this art? I'm not one to take too many pictures while on dates. I think being in the moment is what makes things special.

I am very affectionate. I'm rather physical, enjoying to hold hands, or lightly rubbing some body part. I'm also verbal, I like expressing how I feel in words even though it's not always easy. I try to be thoughtful and do things the other party would appreciate, buy them this, make this food, personal grooming. Are songs a love language? I like to share music.

Hobbies! I adore plants, I love gardening - particularly the part that gives you food - and tending to house plants. I also enjoy ceramics, it's the one art form I feel I'm decent at. I enjoy watching TV or reading AS LONG AS IT HAS A GOOD PLOT. It's hard to stay interested without a good story. I'm interest in sewing - I like fashion despite my budget saying otherwise. Nature overall is thrilling. Animals, plants, there's always something new to learn through a documentary. Philosophy recently piqued my interest though I haven't touched on it yet. I enjoy cooking! Can't say I'm a chef but I like to learn new recipes or techniques.

Dislikes. I think I mostly dislike the way society functions at times - how much of a box everyone can be in, I don't like narrow minded, shallow people. I don't complain much about it, just don't bother associating with them. I know better than to focus on things out of my control.

Siblings!! I have two younger sisters, 11 years old. They can be an annoying hassle, but I love them dearly. I'd defend them without thinking twice. Too nice for their own good sometimes.. other times, brats. I occasionally say screw it and indulge in their idea of fun but it can be hard to get on their level with the age difference, but I try to be the big sister where I can.

Anime Matchups 💘

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

I appreciate your patience. I had a family death so I’ve had a lot going on but I finally feel up to writing. I understand not wanting a drastic age difference. Also I didn’t know what 8w9 meant. Is it a reference to something? Hope you like your matchup.

Noriaki Kakyoin

I pair you with Kakyoin! You two seemed like the best match to me. He seems like the type to enjoy trying out all sorts of dates with you and I can see you two forming a great relationship filled with a wonderful understanding of each other.

Your caring and understanding self would be very admirable to Kakyoin. He’s also daring and rash at times himself so he understands. He’s also understanding when you sometimes don’t open up. He’s not the best at opening up so in moments where you do it’s super comforting to him. He will also take time to open up so when you both are comfortable with each other it feels so genuine. To Kakyoin he’ll know you’re the one when this happens.

Your motherly side is super attractive to him. He has a huge appreciation for your wholesome moments. He likes that you take the time for him. He’ll return this in tenfold.

In moments where you’re impulsive and it can sometimes cause conflict he will try to steer you in the right direction.

Your sarcasm and jokes will make him laugh at times. I can see him chuckling at this side of you. If you flirt he’ll do it right back.

He actually enjoys comforting silence so he’ll try to make you comfortable with this around him.

He often finds himself getting lost in your blues eyes. He’ll often compliment your beauty. He will offer to brush and style your hair since he loves curls. He spends time on his curly bang since he likes the look so when he sees your hair he’d like to help you with it. If not he understands but might ask if he can touch it.

He’ll be sure to take you on all sorts of dates! Your interest in various dates will make him want to take you on all sorts of dates. I can see Kakyoin as the Adventurous type of guy so he will easily whip up some unique dates. He’ll love hearing about your interests. As far as food I’m sure he’s tried plenty of different dishes based on the adventures he’s been on. He’ll tell you about all of the ones he’s tried. He’s also Japanese so I’m sure he knows about different Japanese dishes as well. He’ll tell you his thoughts on them as well. He’s quite intelligent so he’ll know a thing or two about plants and the arts. Kakyoin will share with you what he knows. He’ll respect your thoughts on taking pictures and will only take them on special occasions.

He isn’t used to affection but I can see him enjoying your hand holding and words of affection. Once he’s used to physical affection I’m sure he’d love to indulge you in it. He’s pretty honest so he’s sure to express his feelings when he’s closer to you. If you rub a body part I can see him getting flirty with you. He’d like to return that affection to you.

If you give him something thoughtful he’ll really appreciate it. He’d like to return that generosity because no one has ever done that for him. Also he wants to spoil his partner. I can see him enjoying music. If you got a song to share he’ll give his thoughts. If you explain how they’re a love language he’ll be honored by the gesture and share a song that reminds him of you.

Your hobbies will be very cute to him. He’ll like watching you sew, tend to plants, and working on ceramics. He doesn’t mind watching tv with you and as far as books go he’ll be sure to share some good ones with you since he enjoys reading very much. He’ll take you clothes shopping or buy you materials for sewing. Watching you cook is very calming to him. He’ll join you when you cook. He’ll barrow some cook books from the library for you. I envision him baking a cherry pie or other cherry desserts for you.

Kakyoin will be 100% agreeable on your dislikes. He’s faced a lot of people he’d rather not associate with. He’s also been judged for no reason and has seen shallow people often. Closed minded people are the type of people others avoid.

He thinks you’re a wonderful older sister. Your protective side is admirable and he’d like to know your siblings better. When you indulge in activities with them he’d like to join you.

He wouldn’t expect such a reaction to his stand. He’d be grateful for it since he feels like such an outcast with his stand. It brings him comfort you’d feel such a way about his stand.

Hierophant green really admires you and will curl around you affectionately like a loving snake (or kitten if you don’t like snakes). His stand appreciates how you treat him like a person. Hierophant green won’t be letting go since he exposes Kakyoin so much. Affection x3

Hierophant green also is very helpful. Reaching objects you can’t reach yourself, helping with cooking, cleaning, and getting the remote when you can’t find it.

You’re a Pisces and Kakyoin is a confirmed Leo

It’s seems the compatibility isn’t the best but there’s still room for a relationship to work. Pisces and Leo’s must take steps to work on the relationship to keep it going. How you interpret this is up to you.

All in all this dynamic will be a friends to lovers type of relationship. You two need time to get to know a person before taking the steps to build a relationship. You both would gradually have a good understanding of each other and form a close relationship. Once you’re in a relationship you two will have fun and enjoy spending time together. Love is only a step away. This relationship is one both your friends will think of as a OTP. It’s also my OTP.

[swimmingleo]

Harry Styles and Two Loves - A love that dare not speak its name.

‼️Disclaimer I am in no way an English literature expert or student for that matter and can barely organize my thoughts but I’ll try my best. If something doesn’t make sense or is regretful thinking please tell me‼️

Basically Harry is a fervent reader that does not limit himself to Buk*wski and Mur*kami though for some reason he loves to bring up those dudes. Queer literature seems to play a big role when it comes to his inspiration and I love that about his music. A good example is his Shakesqueer Sweet Creature madness. But another one that I hold close to my heart are the parallels he draws with Alfred Douglas’ poem, Two Loves.

Here is the full poem. Give it a read if you can because I won't break it down verse by verse for this post sorry :(

To make it short, the poem is about the narrator (let's say Douglas) wandering in a garden where he meets a young man that turns out to be his lover. For context, Alfred Douglas was very much queer and in a romantic relationship with Oscar Wilde. Both developed their own coded language to express their love and ''sexual tendencies'' through their art (been this way foreverrr will we ever leaarn). However they were not always so sneaky about it and Two Loves in particular was so in your face that it was used against Wilde to prove his homosexuality in trial. He did get away with it this time. Here is his defense. Blueprint of denials. No iPhones at the time.

In Two Loves, two different personifications of love introduce themselves to Douglas and his lover:

The first love is loud and cheerful and sings about pretty women and men that love the said pretty women.

The second love is discreet, almost erased by the other’s presence but is beautiful and draws the attention of the narrator.

Obviously the first love is Heterosexuality, the one that is openly praised by society and the second is Homosexuality who is bullied into silence by Heterosexuality if he tries to speak. The poem ends with Homosexuality saying "I am the love that dare not speak its name." Yeah. And isn’t that the story of H’s career.

HS1 opens with MMITH which ends on "We don’t talk about it, it’s something we don’t do". And from there follows SOTT, "We don’t speak enough". And right after we get the very loud, very explicit and very well documented Carolina. So far the album narration goes "There is something painful going on but we can’t talk about it, I say ‘we’ because there is a you and I and yeeEEAAH THIS GIRL I MET ONCE GETS A WHOLE SONG THE WORLD DESERVES TO KNOW HOW GOOD SHE FEELS FOR A LADDY LAD LIKE ME ALSO HER NAME IS TOWNES YOU CAN CHECK FOR YOURSELF SEE IF SHES REAL I LOVE REAL WOMEN AS IN WOMEN THAT EXIST". Heterosexuality is loud and sings about pretty women right.

But then, THEN we get Two Ghosts. Which is the center piece of this whole post. I mean, the title... Two Ghosts//Two Loves Two hearts in one home ? Sick.

The parallel that hits the most is the physical description that is made of Douglas’ lover and of Homosexuality (which are technically two different characters in the poem).

Douglas’ lover / Homosexuality

Same lips red / Same eyes blue / Same white shirt

Red were his lips / His lips were red / His eyes were clear as crystal / His large eyes were strange with wondrous brightness / White as the snow / His cheeks were wan and white

In Douglas’ poem, it is meant to be understood that the young boy he meets first, his lover, is related to Homosexuality through their physical appearance. Douglas’ love is therefore inherently queer. With Two Ghosts, I’ve always wondered why Harry chose specifically to point out a white shirt as it comes across a bit generic and not really personal yk? But if you compare it to Two Loves, it checks out the recurrent descriptive color scheme: red, blue and white. In both works, red are the lips, blue are the eyes, and white is the ~envelopp. RIGHT. I suppose Harry didn’t feel like describing his lover with pale white skin since it’s brown with lemon over ice when under summer skies so he went with a plain white shirt instead.

I’m not going through a whole analysis of Two Ghosts yet I can safely say that it deals with unspoken words. Not saying things is a recurrent theme in H’s songwriting but within the album, Two Ghosts is the first song that deals with it through the undeniable prism of romantic love. Right before with Carolina, H had no issue being straightforward and wanted to "scream and shout it out", but with Two Ghosts he’s tongue tied and doesn’t say what he really means. Communication issues go on with the following track Sweet Creature, btw may I just:

But oh, Sweet Creature (!), Sweet Creature

Would he […] cry "O sweet creature!", Othello

I cried "Sweet youth…, Two Loves

Queer Literaturry is going wild(e).

Expanding this post with Sweet Creature allows me to speak about the garden metaphor. In lyric poetry, the expression of emotions is often done through nature. It is a process that Harry seems pretty fond of when singing about love (ie Olivia, Adore You, WS, Canyon Moon and Sunflower are good examples) but it’s way more subtle with TG and SC. In Two Ghosts, nature is the moon, and in Sweet Creature it’s the garden.

Would you look at that, Two Loves happens to combine both:

Moon dances over your good side and this was all we used to need, Two Ghosts

Running through the garden oh where nothing bothered us, Sweet Creature

Flowers that were stained with moonlight / Alone in this fair garden, till he came unasked by night, Two Loves

For Harry, the night is where the moon enhances his lover’s beauty, when it’s just the two of them and they need nothing more than each other. The garden is where they run (free?away?), once again alone, unbothered. For Douglas, Homosexuality took form and began to occupy the garden at night, while Heterosexuality who thrives in the golden light (um I- nvm) wasn’t paying attention.

It is also interesting to note that Homosexuality is associated with the night but also with death. And he’s super pale. So like… A ghost ? ANYWAY.

The garden in Two Loves is where love happens, it is a piece of heaven. It’s elevated on a hill and untamed with flowers of various colors growing everywhere. There is sunshine and moonlight, there are "pools that dreamed" and by pools I assume the author means vernal pools which are habitats where flowers grow and oh look over there:

Nice ruffles on that white shirt by the way. Very Victorian.

Two Ghosts, 2017 Mularry so true

So yeah. I don’t want to go into full analysis mode but I find it all interesting. Once again, Two Loves holds a great significance regarding the Oscar Wilde’s lore, and Harry is probably very familiar with anything Wilde related (don’t even start) and by that I think about the Carnation business.

I’ll just conclude with that quote from Maurice by E.M Forster whom I love very much:

"I am an unspeakable of the Oscar Wilde sort."

[asklifeisweird]

[ ← | ao3 ]

Michael can’t believe his eyes. His mind is racing so fast he can’t keep up, past and present actions melding together into one thought. This was Jeremy?!

They stare at each other for a second that feels like forever, but the moment shatters when Michael hears Rich behind him.

“No fuckin’ way... you, again–?!” Thankfully (or maybe unfortunately), he’s cut off abruptly when Brooke body-slams into him, knocking them both to the ground. She yells to Michael, turning her attention off Rich for a split second.

“Get out of here, I’ve got this!”

He still hesitates. She’s not gonna make it out of that without at least a few bruises, he just knows it. But her earrings are gone and she makes a “call me” hand gesture at him, so he takes steps towards the truck. The door swings open, and Jeremy waves him in.

“Dude, come on!!” Jeremy says, and with one last glance at Brooke, Michael hops in.

Before he can close the door though, Rich rushes towards them and kicks it shut.

“Get your asses back out here, motherfuckers!” He pounds on the door as the truck lurches forward, “Nobody messes with me– NOBODY!”

↓

The doors lock, and then they’re speeding off. Michael watches Rich in the rear-view mirror as he tries to run after them, screaming. They turn out of the parking lot and onto the main road, and Michael breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Man... Rich Goranski. He’s unhinged.” Michael sighs, “This day just never ends...”

Jeremy rolls his eyes.

"And thanks, Jeremy," He drones, reminding Michael who just saved him from a beating.

"Thank you, for saving my ass," Michael parrots. He was gonna get to that...

“Why of course,” Jeremy cracks a small smile, glancing at him.

Michael gives a quick smile in return, but it’s not genuine and drops as quick as it came. He fiddles with his sleeves for a moment as the self-loathing kicks in. He didn’t even send Jeremy that text he was gonna send. He hasn’t said anything to him for years. He’s such a bad friend.

Jeremy frowns. “Dude. Don’t look all guilty. At least pretend you’re glad to see me.”

“I...” Michael sighs. “Really, I am so glad to see you. I’m just... It makes sense I’d see you today, of all days.”

“Y’know, I'll drink to that. It’s sure been a day,” The other nods in agreement. He turns, focusing fully on the road again. “So, what’d he want with you anyway?”

Michael lets out a huff.

“After today? Hopefully nothing. I really don’t need him on my ass. So,” he looks at Jeremy and his blue hair, “How do you know Rich?”

Jeremy’s expression grows irritated, and he bites his lip. “He’s just... another Arcadia grade-A asshole, y’know? It’s not really something I wanna go on about. And anyway, you must be real good friends with Brooke if she’s willing to take on Rich for you.”

“Yeah... She’s a life-saver, I–” Michael stops mid-sentence, “Wait. You know Brooke?”

Jeremy shrugs and says, “We, uh, dated? For like a day,” as if it were trivial.

“No way... that was you?” Michael gapes. “She talks all the time about this guy she “dated”, but she always calls him Jerry.”

“Still?” Jeremy groans, shoulders slumping.

That gets a smile on Michael’s face. “Yup. Jerry this, Jere-bear that. Never a real name in sight.”

If he wasn’t the one driving, he’d put his head in his hands. “Of course she would.”

The conversation tapers off there, and Michael chooses to look out the window at the trees rather than at Jeremy. He’s not all that sure what to say next. There’s no music, just silence, and eventually Jeremy breaks it.

“So... New York sucked ass?” Michael can hear the smile Jeremy is trying not to show. He rolls his eyes.

“I guess? It was cool and all, but I just felt,” he shrugs with a frown, “I dunno. Lonely. Out of my league.”

Jeremy huffs. “I’d’ve thought you’d fit right in with all the art school hipsters.”

“Please,” Michael rolls his eyes, “you look more the part than I ever have.”

“Excuse you,” Jere sounds almost offended, “this is supposed to be punk.”

“If you say so,” Michael gives him a shit-eating grin.

“At least you’re still a little shit.”

Michael’s smile widens. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Right, sure. You came back for Blackwell Academy and we both know it.”

“It’s one of the best photography courses in the country!” He gestures while he speaks, but Jeremy just rolls his eyes.

“My point is, you came back for a class... not your best friend.” Michael’s expression falls, hands going still. 

“Dude, I am happy to see you. I was–” Jeremy cuts him off almost immediately.

“You were happy to wait five years without a call, or even a text.”

Michael looks down at his lap, guilt eating at him. “...I’m sorry. I know things were... tough, when I left.”

“How do you know?” Jeremy asks him, a sour tone to his voice. “You weren’t even here.”

Michael grips the fabric of his jacket. He knows that. He already feels bad about it. After a few seconds, he speaks up again. “...I didn’t order my parents to move specifically to fuck you over. You know that, right?”

“Uh-huh. My point is, you’ve been at Blackwell for like a month already without letting me know.” Jeremy’s eyes narrow, but he keeps them on the road. “Enough said.”

“I wanted to settle in first, so I didn’t feel like such a– a wannabe, or a loner. I was gonna send you a text today, but shit hit the fan, and I just...”

“ “Gonna” doesn’t count,” Jeremy states flatly. “I bet you don’t use these sad excuses in your fancy photography classes, so don’t use them on me, Michael.”

Michael looks away and leans back in his seat, still fidgeting with his jacket. Neither of the boys says anything more, so they sit in a mildly uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. Jeremy turns the radio up just enough so that they can actually hear it.

With the opportunity to let his mind wander, Michael suddenly remembers that his camera was in his bag when he hit the ground earlier. He rushes to unzip his bag, reaching inside and hoping it was okay.

It was not.

Michael makes a distraught noise, causing Jeremy to glance his way.

“What’s wrong?”

“My camera’s out of commission for good,” Michael slumps back into his seat, staring at the broken camera as if he could will it back together, “Man, this blows. I’ve had this thing for years.”

“My step-whatever has a shitload of tools,” Jeremy suggests, “Maybe you can fix it at my place?”

“I’d need very specific tiny tools.”

“Dude, listen. My stepmom has fully stocked our garage.” That gets half of Michael’s attention. “And, to me, she actually is a tiny tool.”

Michael snorts, “If she’s tiny, what am I? Microscopic?”

“Like an ant.” Jeremy says, and Michael rolls his eyes with a smile.

“How’s the weather up there, then?”

He groans. “After five years, you’re still Michael Mell.”

“Yeah,” Michael sits back in his seat, “I sure hope so.”

After a few more uneventful minutes, they pull up into the Heere driveway. Michael looks up at the house as he gets out of the truck, noting with an emotion he can’t quite place that someone’s started to paint the house white.

[roger-that-cap]

doubt comes in

orpheus!bucky barnes x fem!eurydice!reader

summary: a retelling of orpheus and eurydice for an extremely late entry for a mythology challenge!!

warnings: uh- yeah i was not playing with this myth lol… fluffy beginning, uh, that’s all imma say about that and ALSO i haven’t edited this so haha, i am running on fumes but had to post this jeez 

word count: 11.3k good god

There were gods that were unexplainably strong. There were some that could bend fire and metal to their will, some that could string up love and cast it upon others, and others that knew more of war and how to win more than they even knew themselves. Others were the faces of glory, like Zeus and Hera and the sun god Apollo and so many others. There were many that were worshipped by humans every day of every week, and others that were forgotten until they were desperately needed. There were some that lived immortal lives and demanded respect from humans and gods alike, and then there were the ones invested in their art, in themselves, in the beauty of life itself.

That was Bucky. He was so immersed in song, in the gift that he had inherited from his mother, Calliope, that it was all he could think about. It was what made him different, it was what made him stand out from the boys that he grew up with that were just plain old strong. He had a talent, he had a mother that was a myth and a legend alike, and he had a lyre. He had a lyre, a lute, his voice, and a bit of speed, and that was all that he would ever need in life. That, and a pretty landscape to look at while he strummed his golden strings. But that was all he ever thought he would need- which was why he was knocked right off of his planted feet when he saw you walk by.

You were a human. You were a beautiful girl, probably the most beautiful being he had ever seen in his entire life. He had met goddesses and nymphs and princesses alike, but never had he met someone who had such a sweet face, such a gentle aura, and even more, a beautiful voice. You had only said a few words to someone else that were delivered with a gentle smile, but he could have sworn that your words were a melody. Before he knew it, your entire being was stamped into his mind, and he knew that he would never be able to forget you.

It was by complete chance that the next day, he decided to wallow in his sadness by a fountain in public, strumming his lyre too quietly for anyone else to hear. Anyone who knew him knew that he was devastatingly off. And coincidentally, the only ones who truly did know Bucky were Steve and Sam, two forest nymphs that had been his best friends since he taught them the ways of the lute years and years ago. They were sitting by him in silence on the marbled fountain, waiting next to him for the second shoe that they doubted would ever drop. But then, like Bucky was a sunflower following the sun itself, his back straightened, his head perked up, and his mouth dropped, his eyes wide and swirling with admiration as he watched you- the same human woman he was enamoured with- walk through the square again, a woven basket full of fresh fruits on your arm and your lilac dress swishing in the wind.

“No way,” he heard Sam mutter, and Steve poked his side.

“You were always such a doubter,” Steve mumbled, but the smile on his face was audible through his tone. “There she is, in the flesh.”

Bucky could hardly hear anything but the soft melody stirring up in his mind, louder than his racing heart, and just as tender as the feelings swirling inside of him. He saw you wave to the older woman you were talking to and then start to walk away, and he knew that he couldn’t let you go, not when the Fates so obviously gave him a second chance. Without a second thought, he slid off of the fountain, leaving his friends and his lyre, striding towards you with the brightest smile, trying to cover the fact that he was nervous.

His clumsy feet were carrying him a little too quickly, and he could hear the snickers of Steve and Sam from behind him. He craned his head backwards to look at them and laugh too, but he tripped over his own left foot, barreling right into you and knocking you flat onto the ground. His half immortal heart beat heavy and hard in his chest as he watched you wince under him. He scrambled up, cheeks flushed and hand shaking as he watched you sit up and brush the dirt off of your dress. He was looking down at you with a look that he prayed wasn’t as desperate as he felt. But he had to know you.

“I’m Orpheus,” he started, and when you turned your bright eyes to him with your brows furrowed, he shook his head like he was trying to get water from his hair. “No, I meant that I was sorry- I’m so sorry. For knocking you over, miss.” He extended his hand to you again, and he swore that he saw your lips quirk up a bit at him. You took his hand and stood up, brushing the fabric of your dress once again. He caught a trail of your scent, and he was immediately overtaken by the scent of fresh flowers and lavender.

That was when he really got a good look at you for the first time. The first time he saw you had been brief. You weren’t even looking anywhere near his way, and he only caught a look at your stunning side profile before you walked away. His vision had been practically blurred from excitement while he walked up to you, and he was so embarrassed about crashing into you that he was subtly trying not to look in your eyes. But… damn, he had been missing out.

He swore that time stopped. His own heart stopped beating, even the sluggish beat leaving for a few moments. The noises from the town square were so dull that they seemed muted. The stares of Steve and Sam felt so far off that he didn’t even notice them. All he knew was that he was utterly entranced by you, and for a second, he could have sworn that by the look in your eyes, you felt the same way. But like the blaring of an alarm, something knocked you both out of it, putting you in the present, with present problems.

“Oh, the fruits,” you muttered, looking at the peaches and apples that tumbled right out of your basket, bending over quickly to collect them despite the fact that they had gotten bruised. Bucky’s heart jumped to his throat with guilt when he realized he had ruined the fruit you had either picked or paid for, and then he was rushing to get them even faster, praying to the gods that you didn’t automatically hate him.

After looking into your eyes, he doubted he could live with himself if you even so much as disliked him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I don’t have the best footing,” he apologized again, gently placing the fruits back into your basket.

“It’s okay,” you said, and your eyes trailed behind him to look at his friends that were howling with laughter, holding onto each other. He saw your displeasure, and his heart dropped when he understood that you probably thought they had sent him over just to mess with you. Your eyes whipped back to Bucky, and he blushed something fierce. He felt his cheeks warm up under your scrutiny, and then there was a smile creeping back onto your face. “I'm Eurydice.”

Oh, Gods. Eurydice. He swore that he had never heard something so beautiful in his life. He had grown up with the Muses, even had a mother as one, and was surrounded by music and poetry and epics every second of his childhood. Music was imprinted in his mind, every note embedded in his everyday life, yet still it was the most beautiful- “But I go by Y/N.” No. Eurydice was now second. But your name, the one he knew you had chosen for yourself, was the most beautiful thing that life had ever offered him to hear.

His brain was going many miles a minute, as quick as Hermes on a mission, but all he could do in the end was blink and offer his true name first, like politeness called for. “I’m Orpheus,” he extended his arm again to you, and you shook it twice. Your hand was soft, so soft that he didn’t want to let go of it. He would never forget the feeling of your hand in his, and the way he swore that the nerves under his skin were alight with the gentlest and sweetest of fires. “You can call me Eurydic- I mean, Bucky. I’m Bucky.”

You could both hear the laughter coming from Bucky’s friends, and while you were cracking a small smile, Bucky was dying on the inside. “You like to be called by other people's names?”

“I wouldn't mind being called by yours,” he blurted softly, his words coming out as a quick and uncalculated slur. He blinked abruptly when he realized that he was truly having the worst first introduction he had ever had in his life, and it was the one that somehow meant the most to him. “I- only because Eurydice is such a pretty- so is Y/N- I… I’m sorry.” He shook his head, knowing that he was so close to just having to walk away. Instead of embarrassing himself further, he just gave you a short smile and waved, turning on his heel.

“I’m Orpheus, then. Maybe Bucky, too.” He slowly turned back around, a shocked look on his face. Had you really spoken to him again with your own free will?

Bucky knew that he wasn’t ugly. No god or demigod was ever ugly, other than poor Hephaestus. He knew that he had his own sort of charm and that he could bring the roughest of people to tears and the saddest of people to joy with his music, but he didn’t know anything else. He had three redeeming qualities that swirled in his head constantly- he was pretty, he had music, and he had a famous mother.

“Are you a singer?”

“Huh?” So much for eloquence.

You bit your lip. “You speak… you speak like you have a song in your heart. Are you a singer?”

He was stumped. Most knew at least of his music if nothing else. He was the most famed god or man to ever strum a lute besides maybe Apollo. Most knew nothing of his personality and nothing about him other than the fact that he was born to play and sing, and you didn’t? Where had you been living? “Well, I’m Orpheus.”

There was a grin on your face, and Bucky knew that he never wanted to see anything other than that for the rest of his life. “And that makes you a singer?”

He opened his mouth again, ready to talk about who he was born from and where he learned to play and who taught him, but when he looked deeper and saw the spark of mischief in your eyes, he leaned back and held back a small smile of his own. His heart fluttered and grew two sizes. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

“Maybe I don’t,” you said, obvious teasing in your voice, and somehow it still stayed kind. “Maybe I do, and just wanted a free song out of you.”

She knows me, he thought, and his heart may as well have let out a lovesick sigh from within the confines of his chest. She has never heard me sing before, but she will. I’ll sing her a thousand songs.

“I’ll sing you all the songs you desire if you marry me,” he blurted, and while his mind was scolding him for uttering those words so quickly, his heart was steady on beating and so sure of itself that he told his mind off.

To his subtle surprise, you didn’t look shocked. You weren’t disgusted by his rather bold approach and most importantly, you weren’t laughing at him. He held onto your silence in limbo, waiting for you to say something that would either crush him to bits or send his soul rising so high that he reached the cloudy gates of Olympus.

“If you can make me a song that can make the skies open up and weep without singing a word, then I’ll marry you.”

His heart soared. His hands shook. He could have sworn that even his toes clenched. But all you could see were his wide, boyish eyes, and the hopeful look that dawned across his face. He nodded quickly. “I’ll do anything.”

He saw your lips pull up into a smile, genuine and even a little shy, and he couldn’t help but want to step closer. But he knew he had already been up front and abrupt, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you away.

“Okay,” you said, nodding your own head slowly. “I’ll see you soon, then, Bucky.” You took a step back, eyes still connected to his blue ones until you finally turned around and walked away with the same basket on your arm, same dress swaying with the tuneless song of the wind.

The three of them stood in silence, watching you walk away, taking pieces of Bucky’s heart with you in your cradled arms. The bustling of the town was loud, moving about like nothing of significance had happened right where they were all standing, and Bucky found it nothing short of insane. Did no one else just see how the world stopped turning for that one girl? How the Fates put a pause on the clock just so that they could meet?

Steve’s voice brought him out of it. “Did you just ask for her hand in marriage?”

He didn’t even have the energy to shrug. All the swirled in his mind was love, passion, music, and you. You, you, you. “I had to.”

“How will you even find her again?” Steve asked, his logic once again being the only thing that held Bucky down to the ground.

“I know the work of Eros when I see it,” Sam said to Steve, shaking his head somewhat fondly at the pale boy with brunette hair who was still staring off in the direction you left in, like you would miraculously appear again. “They’ll find each other again soon enough.”

The hours went by and then the daylight turned into night and back to day again, and Sam’s words couldn’t have been truer. Your spirit and your face and your voice found Bucky with every few seconds that passed by. He couldn’t blink without seeing you. He couldn’t listen to anyone without hearing you. He couldn’t breathe without smelling your beautiful scent. Everything tasted bland, looked plain, and sounded like white noise after he met you. He knew that until his last (and unlikely) breath, his heart would ache for nothing more than to be yours. He wanted his ring to be on your finger, and yours to be on his.

So he began to make a song.

§§§

He worked tirelessly. The hours below the sun that used to be spent laughing and playing with Steve and Sam were exchanged for hours of composing. His normally perfect posture was hunched over as he tried to find the melody that had stirred in his heart when he first saw you- because he knew that was it.

By the end of twelve days of pure struggling, most of the song was finished. He was a fast worker, so fast that it made everyone else’s heads spin, but he felt it was going too slowly. But then again, he was fast at everything. The melody was as stuck with him as his skin was to his body. He was sure that it would never leave him, even if he wrote a thousand more songs. And part of him never wanted it to go, because it was so you.

He had only held one conversation with you, and it wasn’t long enough, but he felt like he had known you for years. He felt like he had sung to you hundreds of times and danced with you a hundred times more. Your soul felt so familiar yet so foreign that he had to chase after you, and had to discover anything that he could have missed. He knew that you were his destiny, and he had a feeling that you knew he was yours.

The song he was writing wasn’t sad, but it brought tears to his eyes all the same. It wasn’t about longing or loss or chasing after something that would never come to you, but it made Steve and Sam wipe their eyes all the same. It was about your beauty, your inherent wit and kindness, and the way that you set his soul free from chains he didn’t even know of. It was about a love he had never dreamed of finding or even thought to be true, and that was enough to make the three of them weep.

“I think it’s finished, Buck.” This came from Steve after he wiped his eyes again, sitting through the full song again even though his heart aches for a love he had never felt before. “Sam thought it was done days ago.”

Sam had left the two of them alone days ago, claiming that he couldn’t stand to hear the melody and cry each time, claiming that it was beautiful but too much. It made sense. Even Bucky himself was starting to feel the effects of it. But Steve was a stubborn thing, and he would sit through it for as long as Bucky would play it.

“You think it’s enough to make the skies open and cry?” Bucky breathed out, loosely quoting the words he had heard from you not too long ago.

“Even if it’s not, it will surely win her over,” Steve said. “She was already wooed by you, you’re a fool not to see it. She was excited enough that you even agreed to make the song in the first place, anyway.”

Bucky sat there for a few minutes as his fingers tingled, expecting to be used again to pluck the magnificent strings. But he set his instrument down on the log he sat on, sighing and placing a hand under his chin, his thoughts trailing over to you for the thousandth time. “I hope she accepts it.”

Steve just looked at him. “I think that if you came empty handed and told her half of the words you tell me and Sam, she’d follow you anywhere.”

Steve was right. Steve had to have been right, or he was going to wilt right in front of you. He had to be. The brunet nodded, biting his pink lip before opening his mouth again. “Where do you think I’ll find her?”

§§§

It didn’t take long to find you at all. Bucky went to find you alone, finding you because something inside of him told him to search the flowering fields nearby, and there you were. There was a hat made of straw over your head to cover your eyes and face from the sun, and you had the same basket on your arm that you had the other days. It was empty this time, and he had no doubt that you were looking at the flowers for fun before going to look for fruit. He couldn't help but smile fondly at you from across the field, and then he was gripping his lyre and taking a deep breath.

“Y/N,” he called out, his voice full of emotion instead of being the strong sound he wanted it to be. Nonetheless, it caught your attention, and then your pretty eyes were wide on him. Immediately, your feet turned in his direction and you made your way across the meadow, and he followed suit. He met you in the middle, so nervous that the grin that was deep inside of him wasn’t coming out at all.

You were both at a loss for words as you stood close to each other. His hands shook at his sides, aching to hold your hands in his. He wondered if they were as soft as your voice, or as smooth as the petals flowers you admired. “You came?”

He blinked. Of course he did. It was all he could think of doing. “My only regret is not coming sooner,” he admitted, and he watched you angle your eyes downwards, and he smiled at your shyness. “Would you like to hear it?”

Your eyes were connecting with his again, and he could have sworn that your smile could have put him in an early grave. He was momentarily stunned by you and your brightness, so stunned that he hardly even heard what you said. “Of course I would.”

“So then you’ll hear it,” he said softly, his heart and mind completely taken over by you in your presence. He fixed his lyre into position, his fingers already fixed into the correct spots as he began to play your song.

His eyes were shut as he strummed just as he had practiced thousands of times, but he knew it felt different. His body was buzzing with excitement and something else he couldn’t identify, but he loved it. It made him play stronger. His eyes shut even more as he felt the music, swaying side to side a bit as he felt his heart open up to you, finally content with you hearing the song.

He didn’t even realize that he was done until all he could hear was quiet sniffles. He pried his left eye open, almost too scared to look for your reaction, but when he saw that you were just looking up at him with watery eyes and a wobbly smile, he opened his other eye, ready to spring into action.

The only thought going through his mind was that it was impossible that you liked it. The way you were looking at him reminded him of the way people looked at sculptures of ancient monsters— a muted type of awe, but also a sense of discomfort. He brought you to tears, and not in the way he wanted to. He ruined it.

“I- was it bad?” He blurted out, and he cursed himself at ruining his own chance. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you didn’t like it-”

“How long have you been playing that song?”

You were too beautiful. Too gentle. You were melting his brain into mush, and he doubted that he would be able to pick up his lyre for another round even if you begged him. “I… I just made it. For you, I made it with you in mind.”

Your facial expression didn’t change. “Where’s the ring?”

He blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“The rings we’re going to wear when we wed,” you said, almost teasing. “Do you have them?”

His eyes widened. “You want to marry me?” He asked, leaning forward a bit in shock. “The sky didn’t- the rain never came.”

“I cried,” you said, a small smile on your face. You still hadn’t wiped your tears, and he watched them frozen on your face, stuck in time. “I didn’t expect the work of the gods. I just wanted you to play for me.”

He was bewildered. He had half of the mind to ask you if you truly meant it again, but he took his excitement and ran with it. “And you… you feel this too?”

You took his right hand into yours, and he swore that his souls ascended to the gates of Olympus and waltzed right in. “I felt it the second I saw you, Bucky.”

He blushed something fierce before looking down at the ground, shame overtaking his sheer admiration for you. “There’s something I should tell you before you say you want to be with me.”

“Tell me anything,” you encouraged softly, one of your hands coming up to brush his warm cheek.

“I don’t have much.”

And he didn’t. He had Sam and Steve and a nomadic lifestyle. He never stayed in the same place for long, and he didn’t have a roof over his head. He didn’t need one. Rain and wind and fire didn’t bother him. He preferred to live under the canopy of trees and the protection of nature. But he knew humans didn’t. He knew humans— especially women— liked when their partners brought things to the table, and he had nothing but strings and whistles. He had nothing materialistic. He had no gems, no coins, no house, and fancy clothes— nothing money could buy. But he looked at you and saw that you deserved it all, and even more he saw that he had no way to even provide it for you.

“I live in many different places, I don’t have a home. I don’t have money. I don’t have… I can’t buy you dresses or shoes or any of the stuff you would probably like… and I’m sorry. I know that will probably change everything, but I just wanted you to know.”

You took a step forward, strong and secure, and then your chin was tilted upwards. “Like I said, where are the rings?”

Bucky grinned.

§§§

The day of your wedding was blessed by the gods, whether they admitted it or not. You married each other in the meadow Bucky found you in with a small crowd of people, and when you kissed as man and wife, peace washed over the both of you, and it felt like your marriage had been approved by all far and wide. The kiss that you shared to make the wedding official was short and sweet and full of the most innocent of passion, and he felt so adored by the soft touch of your lips that he felt a singular tear cross the terrain of his pale face for the first time in years.

He didn’t even deny it.

He didn’t deny the way that you danced together was perfect. He had never guided you, had hardly even danced with another woman, but it was perfect. It was like he had practiced with you before a hundred times, and the feel of your hands in his was what kept him sane. He was convinced that you could do anything new with him and it would feel like you had done it before, just because you were so familiar to him as a whole.

He had known you for what felt like seconds in the grand scheme of things, but you knew him inside out and he knew you better than he knew himself. He could find you in the dark, you could identify him with just a whisper of his voice, and he could fall in love with you over and over without even touching you. He would perform the Sisyphean task of falling in love with you over and over again if it meant that he could be next to you.

And luckily, it turned out that you didn’t need the things that Bucky was sure you were going to. He got you a small house just for the two of you to come back to, and he still roamed around in the area. Steve and Sam would walk off and come back weeks later, just like they used to when it was the three of them together. And there would Bucky be, at the house he made possible for you, and happier than ever.

Bucky lived an extremely modest life with you, and he liked it. Farming and getting water from wells and working for the food that was on your tables, cutting wood to feed the flames in the pit in the middle of your main room. Life was somewhat repetitive, so repetitive that he was scared he would lose you to your wild imagination and beautiful, adventurous heart. But it had never been as fulfilling as it was with you.

The little things were what made his day. It was waking up with you at his side, tucked into his arms and still sleeping soundly while he made songs up in his head dedicated to you that made him smile. It was listening to you hum to yourself while you washed corn and peaches and squash in the buckets of water you had carried down the hill that served as your property. It was the way you would pull him out of a funk by taking his hand and leading him out of his chair, dancing to music that didn’t exist, or the way you would coax him to sing to the moon because you wanted a longer night. A longer night meant more time spent with each other.

When you woke up after your long nights, sometimes you would coax him out of bed for some daily challenge, a challenge that usually he would end up beating you at. Part of him believed that you just wanted him to show off, but you always said otherwise. You would challenge him in singing only to have him go first and not even sing, claiming you had already lost. You would tell him you wanted to race him to the stream and back, knowing that you would lose by a long shot. He could run circles around you if he hardly tried, and that was just in his godly blood. But there was never any jealousy, never any animosity, never any bitterness. It was all just sweet, it felt.

You were just so magical. It was so simple, the things that made him happy, but he knew that just one call from your soul to his was more than just communication. He craved it. He knew from the moment that he met you that his soul would always seek yours, even into the afterlife. He knew that every day with you would be as beautiful as you were on your wedding day, shining brighter than any gem or any star in the night sky. And none of it would ever change.

§§

Things changed. Just as the sun rose and set, so did time. It cranked on without a single hint of Bucky aging, and you were still as youthful as you were the three years prior. Life was still beautiful, and that was all that mattered.

You had traveled around the world with him, kissed in so many different cities with different kings and different cultures and different music. You had met so many different people, lived so many different lives, just to go back home and settle there. It was wonderful. He loved you, and you loved him. It was the kind of love that was never at risk of fading or thawing away. It was the kind of love that was only spurned on as the years crawled by, the days acting as twigs added to an already strong fire. It was such a beautiful thing that he had with you, and every day with you felt like one that was blessed by the gods themselves.

Until it didn’t.

Bucky had never felt fear in his heart like he did when he heard your scream travel across the meadow. He didn’t even put on his shoes before tearing off to find you, torn between begging you to make another sound so that he could hear you or pleading the gods to make the sound of your distress stop and never happen again. His chest rose and fell with the exertion, and he knew that he had never been so afraid in his life.

The scream was all that echoed in his mind when he ran through the woods, and as he stumbled upon fallen fruits and flowers that he just knew were yours. He realized he was at the end of a ravine almost too late, and when he looked down, following the steep curve of the slope with wary and partially-knowing eyes, he immediately doubled over.

There you were in all your fallen glory, legs bent unnaturally and neck twisted even worse. The light yellow of your dress was stained with brown and dark green, and in some places a deep red that made him sick to his stomach. Your eyes were looking up at the sky, staring right into the sun as it shone down on your figure, taunting him just like the breeze that began to make your dress look so lively.

Bucky fell to his knees right on the edge of the ravine, his heart not even lurching when he lost his balance. An arm reached out to you, like it was stuck in the moment before you fell and he could reach you. Tears were coming down his face slowly, steadily as he fought to get breaths in. He called your name.

He didn’t know how many times he called your name, or how far the sadness in it traveled. It must have been loud and long enough, because before he knew it, there were hands on his shoulders. They were warm and familiar and even the smallest bit comforting in that moment, but not enough. He wanted your hands.

“Let’s get away from the edge, Buck.” It was Steve’s voice, strong and gentle and the backbone of the situation. Bucky’s eyes pried open at the feeling of Steve’s sturdy hands pulling him backwards, and he retched in his mouth at the sight of your broken, soulless body at the bottom. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten so close to it himself.

“I’ll go down to…” Sam started, trailing off with a soft and distraught look on his face when he caught sight of Bucky again, and Steve nodded at him.

“Let’s get you up, Buck. Up and Washed off.” He hadn't even realized he was dirty at all. His hands were covered in dirt and under his fingernails were the same earthy brown he was used to. He had been pulling up grass from where he grieved without even noticing.

His sobs were so loud that they hurt Steve’s ears. His dragging steps were causing such a disturbance to the land around him that animals seemed to crane their necks at him and cast their glances his way, as if wondering how on earth a person could be that distressed. His mouth was moving, but it looked and sounded more like babbling and trembling as waterfalls came down the canvas of his pale skin.

“Buck, you have to calm down. You’re about to have an attack.”

He didn’t know if he meant heart attack or a panic attack, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were dead, all twisted up at the bottom of a ravine. Your soul had left the earth, left your body, and you were just laying there like you had never been alive. Like you had never held his hand, or kissed his cheek, or wore his ring or laughed or sang or read fine poetry while eating the fruits you had picked. Seeing you down there with your open and dim eyes felt like you had never lived at all.

“Keep walking with me, buddy. You’re going to be just fine.”

But he wasn’t. Every step he took away from you made bile come up in his throat. He wanted to be as far away from your lifeless body as possible, but he didn’t want to ever let you go. He wanted to hold you close to him until it felt like you were alive again. But as his heart beat seemed to freeze up but race like a horse all the same, he realized that you would never be alive again. You were only as alive as your last few moments, whether they were filled with the joy and freedom of having the wind on your face or the fear of falling. He could do nothing to change it.

But he would try to do everything.

§§

He spoke to everything and nothing. Steve and Sam would take turns coming to him after they celebrated your life. It reminded Bucky of the way that his mothers friends used to come watch him while his mother was off and away somewhere, and how it felt like they thought of him as a cute little burden. He knew deep down that his friends cared for him more than anything and that he cared about them just as much, but he couldn’t think about anything but you. He wouldn’t.

It was a service that made the skies open just like you said they would for his voice. The day lilies that surrounded you and Bucky seemed to be weeping with him. The wind came from east to west and west to east, spinning around and throwing in the scent of the flower with the smell of oncoming rain, reflecting the turmoil he was feeling on the inside. He could have sworn that the earth had trembled just like his hands that held your cold and still ones. But if the world had caved down under him at that moment, he wouldn’t have moved. He wouldn’t have opened his mouth to scream, or even say a word. He would have only held your hand tighter.

He spoke to the moon more often than he did Steve and Sam. They hovered, but it was the kind of hovering that Bucky felt he would appreciate sooner or later. He would sit every night and talk to the moon with his legs pulled into his chest, small and in such a vulnerable position that it would have made him feel uncomfortable at any other time. But he was vulnerable. He had been knocked off of his feet and winded. The world kicked him while he was down more times than he could count, and they had opened his chest and peeked right into his heart before seeing it was unworthy and walking away from him. It left him bleeding out in the forest while he listened to the birds eventually go on back to chirping, and watched the flowers push through and grow, and people laugh and smile and talk like nothing changed.

He was doing just that. He was lying in the flowering fields that he would always swear belonged to you, the both of you, when he heard soft footsteps. He didn’t care to look up. He knew it wasn’t Steve or Sam, but why would he care? He had nothing to be scared of now that you were gone.

“You’re Orpheus.” It wasn’t a question.

He didn’t even blink, but an annoyance he couldn’t shake bubbled up inside of him at hearing the name his mother granted him coming from a stranger. As much as he wanted complete silence, he couldn’t help but say- “Bu- sure. I’m Orpheus.”

“Everyone heard, you know.” The voice was of an old, frail woman. Bucky knew that without even looking, He ignored the fact that pity was strong in her voice, and that he knew exactly what she was talking about. He ignored the way he knew that she thought that she had the right to talk about his wife, about the way he had lost you far too soon. She knew nothing. But he let her speak. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say a word. He didn't even recognize words as an option. He would stay silent and wait until she left. Maybe if he was quiet enough or stared up at the sky in such a still manner that it scared her, she would leave him. If he pretended to be as dead as he felt, he was sure she would leave.

“There hasn’t been a good song since you’ve stopped playing.” He heard rustling, and then he dared to look off to the side to see the old woman struggling to sit, cane wobbling in her hand as she finally plopped her frail bones onto the ground near him. He sighed heavily and looked back up to the sky. “You know, you’ve gotta be the most moving musician to ever walk the earth, from both god and man.”

It was a compliment that would have had him blushing years ago. It would have had his young mind fumbling for his lute or lyre and clearing his godly voice, asking if she wanted to sing with him or just listen. Now, it incited nothing. It meant nothing. “I doubt I’ll ever play again.”

“You pleased god and man,” the old woman carried on, almost like she had never heard him open to speak with that raspy voice of his that was so uncharacteristic of him that it hurt to hear. “Anyone would have done anything to hear your music.”

He finally turned to the side to look the old woman in her face, and he blinked at her. “I’m grieving.”

“You could persuade anyone with seven strings and five notes, don’t you understand that?” Her voice was almost angry. It was hard and nearly pleading, so different from her previous tone that Bucky snapped his head her way. “If I were you, I would have been at Death’s gates.”

They were staring at each other. Bucky was looking at the decrepit woman with curly gray hair that looked like she had dodged a visit to the Gates of Death herself more than once with shocked eyes. His heart started to beat again, like her words were arousing some kind of vicious hope that he never even knew could exist.

“The gods blessed your union. They won’t ever say, but they did bless your marriage. What makes you think that if you beg, you won’t get a blessed reunion as well?”

She disappeared within seconds of her final words, leaving a revelation swirling around in his mind and haunting his every thought.

§§

His feet ached. His hands were beginning to blister from stroking the strings of his tired lyre, and his throat was even beginning to strain. He had been singing for hours, pouring his heart out at the hidden gates of the Underworld, begging for an audience. But above all the physical pain ranked the ache in his heart, the unbearable feeling of your death sitting on his shoulders and ripping him apart from the inside. His grief was destroying him.

Hades might as well have had ears plugged up with the same wax that was used by Odysseus and his men. Usually he went undisputed, because just as life was certain, so was death. There was no questioning the decision of it, or the Fates, or the rule of Hades and his acceptance of his dear Eurydice into his kingdom. Everyone was allowed to plead and beg, but no one ever went down to the gates of the Underworld to ask for the release of a loved one, whether they were man or god. But there he was, standing in dirtied pants with fingertips plucked pink, and tears running down his face.

He didn’t know if he would ever gain the strength to leave. He didn’t know what he would do if someone even bothered to humor him. He wasn’t going to be able to have you back. He was never going to be able to bring you back up above, have you under the sun and shining beautifully like you were born to do. What would he beg of them? For them to let him see that your soul ended up in the Asphodel Meadows? For them to let him hold you one last time before you drank from the Lethe and forgot everything that happened? What if you had already drank from it? Each thought made his stomach lurch more, and his music grew louder and more desperate, like the final battle cry of a warrior.

His back was up against a tree as he sang out again in the night, praying for someone to hear him and take pity on his poor soul. Strike me down and send me with her, if you cannot give me the gift of seeing her again. The same tears that had been steadily pouring down his face were gathered in a puddle at his unmoving feet, yet he didn’t mind. He couldn’t.

“You have woken my wife.”

Bucky’s playing stopped immediately. “What?”

The man before him was dark. He was tall and seemed to take up almost the entire space even though he was only a bit wider than Bucky. His shoulders were broad and his chin was strong, and his eyes were sharp even under the gloomy look they had to them. His cheekbones were sunken in and his eyes had a ring of black around them, like he hadn’t slept in a thousand years. His lips were set in a hard line, but he didn’t look displeased. Most notably, he had a dark aura surrounding him, even black most coming from behind him and nearly encasing him.

“I don’t repeat myself, and luckily, it looks like you heard me the first time.” His voice was deep, enthralling, like a song that Bucky would never dare write himself.

What was a man this terrifying, this powerful, doing in the forest? How had Bucky woken a soul when he was in soulless territory? He hadn’t seen houses for leagues.

Something inside of Bucky begged him to apologize. It begged him to get into his knees and look downwards towards the growing grass and hope to be spared. If this was before he lost you, maybe he would have listened to it. But what did he have to truly live for now that his darling was gone?

“I’m sorry to have brought you out of your dwellings because of my grieving.”

There was a certain kind of silence that would have made Bucky’s skin crawl if he even dared to look the being’s way. “Grieving?”

“My wife.” He breathed out, finally letting his arms loose as he let his trust lyre fall down to his side. “She… has fallen prey to death.”

“Ah,” the man said, his voice nearly a scoff. “I see. The circle of life.”

“And now my life shall go in circles, on and on and down the same miserable path without the woman I love,” Bucky stated, resting his head back against the tree. “I wish I knew a man that grieved. Me… I live amongst gods. We don’t grieve. We don’t die. I have never met a man who had an inch of grief in his heart. I feel like the first to ever feel it.”

“We can lose people in other ways than death,” the man said. “Death is the most absolute, but it seems to hurt a lot less than voluntary abandonment.”

“This is my first brush with death, and I have to admit that I’m not the biggest fan.” What an understatement.

“That’s a shame. My wife is quite the fan of you and your… grief. She says it’s the most moving thing she’s ever heard.” Bucky just nodded, eyes far off. “She wants to meet you.”

“I don’t really want to meet anyone.”

“You don’t want to see my wife? You don’t want a two way ticket to the world you’ve been singing about taking passage to for days now, Orpheus?”

His head turned slowly, eyes widening as he tried to piece thoughts and facts together with his sluggish mind. “What?” But he knew. He knew with another glance at this man that he was no man at all, but one of the original gods. He was Hades, in the divine flesh, standing right before him with a glint in his eyes that meant he was satisfied by Bucky’s shock. He went to his knees, kneeling as a sob piled up into his throat.

“Your Excellency,” he began to plead, recalling back to the times he was a young god, listening to his mother explaining the way that he should speak to all the gods who came before him- especially one as powerful as Hades. “I apologize. My mind is not set right— the loss of my wife has taken a toll on me. Please forgive me.”

“Your grief blinds you.”

There was no point in lying. “It does.”

“I, too, was blinded by grief. In fact, it happens every other six months, though I suppose you young gods and humans call it winter and fall. My wife would leave, gone with a stroke of wind and then come back only to wilt again. But she, just like your own wife, will learn that there is nothing we can do about the situations we are in. Destiny will have us where she has us, and your Eurydice’s path above has ended.”

Bucky wanted to scream at him. He wanted to refuse him and tell him that Destiny and the Fates would have to bend to his will, because there was no other way. He couldn’t last another day without you, let alone a lifetime. But the god he was speaking to was Hades, and Bucky was just Orpheus, a low level demigod.

“However, my wife still wants to meet you. She wants to hear your song clearly, where it’s not muffled by distance.” His heart began to race. His hands were shaking. His eyes were wide as he tried to take in a deep breath, waiting for the gloomy god’s next words. “If you agree to see her and play her that song of yours, I’ll let you see this wife you speak of. Does that sound fair?”

Nodding was all Bucky could do to stay awake.

§§

The Underworld was just as gloomy as it was in the stories. Black and grey ran together to create a shadowy world, dismal and dark. It was full of strange sounds, like the whistling of thick wind that almost sounded like wailing humans. The air was so heavy that Bucky was finding it hard to breathe, and there was a mist so hard to cut through that Bucky could hardly see more than three feet in front of him at a time. Hades led him, and the only reason he could see him was because of his true height showing, and the fact that his dark smoke was even darker than the mist.

His hands shook. Both of them held onto his lyre for dear life. It was close to his chest, strings facing away from him, but still it felt like he could feel the vibrations of it, like the air was mocking him back by playing a song of its own. He resisted the urge to close his eyes and fall to his knees, the environment putting him in near shock.

But he had to find you.

Hades stopped in his tracks, turning his sunken face towards Bucky, who had to fight to not flinch. “If you play for my wife and she likes it, I’ll take you to see yours.” He nodded his head quickly, putting his lyre into position, his arms trembling with anxiety. The double doors opened without the old god even touching them, and then Bucky was faced with an ancient throne room, elegant and dark all the same.

The first thing he did once he got near the sitting Queen of the Underworld was kneel. Tears were already swirling in his eyes, and his throat was lurching. If he were a human, he was sure that he would have been throwing up. He prayed silently to his mother, calling upon the strength of the Muses and their talents into his blood once more.

It was silent until the queen finally spoke. “So you’re the musician?”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

“I expected you to be much older,” she said, her soft voice a plain contrast from her husband’s, and the dark setting of the Underworld. And then, Bucky understood that the stories weren’t embellished. At first thought, she didn’t seem to belong down there, least of all with Hades. He didn’t dare look up at either of them. “Your grief seems to be centuries old.” It felt like it was. The hole in his heart felt older than he was.

“This is Orpheus, son of Calliope,” Hades explained. “He can’t be more than a few thousand years, if I remember correctly.”

“Young, very young.” Persephone mused, the tone of her voice almost curious. “And what causes you to play this song?”

He explained it. He explained all of it. Your death, his need to see you, his stupid hope of bringing you back home where you belonged. He left it all on the table for them both to hear, even though he knew that the odds were unlikely for him. He didn’t care. He didn’t care if he got ridiculed or thrown back out of the gate, all that mattered to him was that he tried his hardest to get you. And that you knew, deep down in your forgotten mind, that he tried.

“Your music has moved me so, truly.” Persephone said, and then Bucky looked up. She was beautiful, flowers all over her body. She was the brightest thing down there, no doubt, and she still had that godly glow that all the other gods had, a golden rim around her body. She turned her face toward her husband without taking her eyes off of Bucky. “And I want to give you a chance.”

Bucky’s heart stopped. “Your Excellency?”

She was facing Hades now. “Give him a condition.” She muttered, her hands gripping the arms of the throne she sat on. “But let him try.”

Hades frowned. “If I let her go, how many humans do you think will hear of this tale and try to do the same?”

“None.” The goddess answered quickly. “They’re afraid of you. This boy is not. And unlike gods, humans accept death. They know that it is a part of the cycle, and they wouldn’t dare dispute it. This is just a confused young god. He hasn’t seen death before. This will be the only time anyone will ever ask this of you, Hades.”

It was pure silence. It seemed to stretch on for eons as Hades contemplated his wife’s words. The lyre had fallen to the ground minutes before, and Bucky felt himself reaching for it. Tears were streaming down his face now. “I’ll play for you again. I’ll play for you for a decade straight if you let me take her home at the end, if you let her remember me.” He added desperately, body trembling with anticipation.

Hades had dark eyes, and those dark eyes were full of uncertainty and something close to anger while he stared at Bucky, with a look on his face that was so blank that it frightened him. His wife’s hand was on his chest as she pleaded with him on Bucky’s behalf, yet he only stared Bucky down.

“If you can walk your way out of my domain without turning back to look at her, you can take her with you above ground.” Bucky sobbed. “If you look back, boy, she stays in the Asphodel Meadows.”

Bucky sobbed again.

§§

His back faced everything. He couldn’t hear anything except for the beating of his own heart, the heartbeat that seemed to extend all the way down to the fingertips that gripped the infamous lyre in his hand. He shook with every breath, and every blink was harsh on his eyes as he tried not to cry.

He wished he could hear you. He wished he could hear your soft voice reassure him, tell him that you remembered everything, that you were right behind him and that you would follow him everywhere, just like he would follow you. Just like he had followed you. He wished he could hear you.

He wished he could feel you. If your warm hands could just ghost over his shoulders and push him forward without quite letting go, he would have made the trek a thousand times. If he could feel your hands brushing away the hair out of his line of sight, he would have been walking before Hades even gave permission. He wished he could feel you.

He couldn’t. But he would walk anyway.

He hardly heard Hades give permission, his ominous tone echoing through the otherwise empty cavernous area, or the sound of Persephone’s whispers. But he could feel it in the air, suffocating and burying him.

Every lift of his foot was agonizing, every step far heavier than he ever imagined he could bear. But he would do it for you. He would push. Every whisper of doubt that crossed his mind, he would throw away.

It didn’t matter that at times, he wasn’t sure if you got what you needed from him. It didn’t matter that he felt like you weren’t fulfilled by the life you had with him. He had faith. It dwindled with every step, but he had faith. He would keep it and nurture it with every breath he had inside of him on the long journey back home.

Seconds started to feel like minutes, and minutes started to feel like hours. He hated it. His throat was closing in on itself like his voice was his enemy, like the voice everyone thought was so golden was the voice that would be the final nail in his coffin.

His feet were still aching, but the ache had become dull. Louder and more painful was the feeling of the cold biting his skin, like it was a reminder to stay conscious, to stay alert and thinking. Thinking was his vice and virtue. The silence was too loud. His mind was in pain, his heart even worse as he started to feel like the cold was his antagonizer. It was cold up above. It was in the cold where you suffered the most, where you struggled to stay positive. It was in the cold where he could hardly provide for you. It was in the cold where he had to hold you so close to him that air didn’t stand a chance between the two of you because every other man had already chopped the good wood.

But at the same time, he began to feel warm. It felt so warm to his skin that it felt like he was about to step into Tartarus. And it was in the warmth that you dressed in that pretty, short dress that got you harassed by men without humanity. It was in the summer that he found he couldn’t defend you. It was in the summer that he had a flash of realization that he wasn’t strong enough. It was in the summer that he got an even more fleeting flash of the thought that he wasn’t enough at all.

It was in the spring, in the months where there was sun and soft breezes, that he realized again that he was of no help. He had gotten a job one spring that was honest work, but brought in a lot less for the household than you did. He was working with the hands that were already calloused over to help men far more experienced than him craft things to sell to the town. He worked hard to come home tired just to know deep down that for all his work, he had not much more than chump change and a positive outlook to his name.

It was one autumn that he realized how much he had failed you, and he swept it under the rug like he did every other season. One autumn, he walked in on you crying in the arms of your friend- the local plum vendor that Bucky always used to buy from- about how you were terrified of being pregnant. As he walked through the Underworld, he asked himself how he could have ever forgotten that moment. Because what you said had shaken his heart to the core.

“There’s no way I would be able to take care of it.”

It wasn’t the certain doubt that was plants in your mind. It wasn’t the fact that neither of you had noticed Bucky hovering in the door because you were sobbing so hard. It wasn’t the way the woman comforted you better than he thought he was ever able to- because with him, you just never addressed the bad. It was as swept under the rug as dirt was. It was the way you said “I”. Alone. By yourself. Him and his contributions weren’t even in the picture. Were they even contributions?

It was never his voice that was his greatest feature and his worst. It was his mind. His mind was his killer. His mind was a killer, his poison and his weapon, and he was turning it right onto himself. His legs trembled as he fought the urge to look, to crane his neck and get his disappointment over with. Were you following him? Did you even remember him- or had you already drank from the river that would steal all of the life that you had before? Had Hades tricked him into leaving quietly?

And if you did remember him, why on earth would you follow him? You would be following him back to a land that was full of struggle and making it through day by day. You would be trudging after him this time only for him to bring up the rear in everything else. He would be the one smiling at you after you came from working to the bone, providing for him and yourself. That was all he ever had to offer, a smile and a song. What could he truly trade for a smile and a song? What could he get you?

Nothing.

What could he do if you got hurt again?

Nothing.

What could he do with his life when he surfaced and found you not there, far behind in the Underworld?

Nothing.

The doubt piled up. It replaced the faith like the faith was a forest and doubt was a wildfire. Every footstep added to it. He was convinced. He was sure that the result of him turning around at that one moment could be no worse than him turning around when he got to be above ground and away from the suffocating death. You weren’t going to be there. Whether he turned right then or in a hundred years, you weren’t going to be there. If you were in your right, beautiful mind, you would have seen him begging and turned your eyes from him and pretended like you hadn't known him.

He couldn’t tell where he was. His breathing was too shaky for him to think about anything else but breathing and thinking about you. It was too dark. His feet hadn’t touched grass yet and he knew he had to try to keep pushing, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He was bursting at the seams to confirm something that he already knew was coming for him.

His feet dragged. His steps sped up but it felt like he was fighting quicksand. He was struggling to walk through it, fighting to take breaths in it. The shallow breaths were somehow pitched high, bouncing off of the rocky, cavernous walls he began to hate. The only thing on his mind was doubt, doubt, doubt. It was a fever he couldn’t sweat out. A tremor he couldn’t shake away. A dark color he couldn’t paint over. A shadow he couldn’t run from. And just when he couldn’t fight it anymore, he saw light.

He never ran so fast in his entire life. He wanted to escape the feeling clawing at his throat and chest, the dread and preparation for pure disappointment. He wanted to step into the light, step into something he knew, before he allowed himself to collapse in grief again. It felt like the light was getting closer, and then it would fade again and come back lighter. He didn’t register the sound of sobbing until the sound faded out and stopped echoing, and then he was aware that his feet were touching the grass.

His feet were touching grass.

His hands shook as he raised them to his face, cupping his cheeks as he came to the realization that he was out of the nightmare that was the Underworld. Emotions were rushing into him faster than he could understand what they were, and then his mind stopped. His face was dry. His head whipped around.

Your eyes were wide and watery. Your dress was torn and bloody, just like it was when you had died. Your hair was a mess, and you were shaking from crying so hard. You stood there like a ghost, transparent and out of place, but crying real tears all the same. The sobs he had been hearing weren’t his own. They were yours. And you were still encased by the shadows of the Underworld.

You had been trying to catch up to him.

“Oh!” His exclamation was more of a dying moan than anything else. His trembling hands cupped his mouth again as he watched you cry again, crying even harder than that one time where the leaves were falling. He uttered your name once, and then once turned into four times, and as your cries got louder, his muttering turned into a shout, your name the one word he was calling out over and over again.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry baby.” He watched as you opened and shut your mouth over and over, shaking your head as silence was all you could produce. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He was drawing blood from how his fists were clenched. “Baby, my sweet love, my darling,” the names were dripping from his tongue like honey, like it was a balm that could soothe the both of you. His apologies were just as tender, as quiet and disbelieving as the language his eyes were speaking. He couldn’t help but reach out to you with a dying apology on his lips, his foot crossing the barrier you would be stuck behind forever, and just before he touched what must have been your cold skin, there was nothing but air.

Nothing but your lingering presence and his poisonous mind.

§§

He never thought that life could be so meaningless. Even before he met you, he felt like he had a purpose. He was an entertainer, a traveling man, a man who brought joy and music with him effortlessly wherever he went. Not anymore.

He was empty, and he felt like an empty glass jar. He wasn’t even an empty box— he was something anyone that had eyes could see right through. Everyone saw him and knew he was the one who had lost a wife and in turn given up all his divine talent. They looked at him through lenses that were wet with pity. He hated it.

He hated himself for doing the same to the humans who had lost loved ones. He felt horrible for giving them those looks, for telling Steve and Sam their stories without really knowing it. Now he was going through the unimaginable.

Nothing mattered, he learned. He thought that thought over and over again every time he woke up and every time he was going to sleep. He thought it while he sat in the cold on one winter night with no fire in the fireplace. It was something that would have made him worry a bit, or made him irritated at himself. Nothing really caused him to get angry or sad anymore. He was just there. It was like he was living yet another death by extension. The world gave him his cards and he played them in the worst way possible. But that’s what he did. He couldn’t change it.

He couldn’t change anything. All he could do was pray that you forgot the way that he failed you time and time again, and then where it was most important.

He would remember enough for the both of you.

****

hi guys! i feel like i literally have come back from the dead with all the time i’ve been in and out of here. it’s been so hectic and busy that i’m proud i got this out so soon lmao- i worked hard on this, so if you were feeling it please like and reblog!!