#but I was just talking more about how I want his complexity to be recognized

[crustyfloor]

(excuse to talk about one of my favorite cure scenes and ramble) Ivan's message as a character who chooses to not confront his feelings and doesn't find the words to describe them because they're so jumbled and unusual, makes it interesting when we see him express himself with actions rather than words, because action comes more easily to him rather than some complexities he won't put a name to or think about, in fact, Ivan doesn't consider himself capable of being so naturally attuned to emotions like others can be, it's just a fact to him, there must be something fundamentally "wrong" with him that separates him from others who have the ability. After all the years of suppressing and constructing a version of himself that didn't feel, for the sake of keeping control in an environment where, by all means, for him, emotions were a liability. He would not allow his weaknesses to come to light. It was simpler to live that kind of life instead of the alternative. I'm sure that's why he was so intensely fixated on Till, after finding someone who embodied everything Ivan believed he couldn't have and lacked within himself, sticking to Till and observing him was like a study

Ivan didn't learn basic concepts about emotions, so most of his behavioral issues stem from his upbringing. Ivan may believe empathy and kindness wouldn't come as naturally to him as others because Ivan is dispassionate about most things in his life, because he has to be, so much so that it gives the impression that Ivan doesn't feel at all. I love this scene in Cure because it shines light on the anger and compassion Ivan does feel, and it's for another person, for Till, whom Ivan can't help but have most of his passionate feelings and moments for.

Such a rare instance of gentleness from someone who otherwise wouldn't so easily give it reflects so strongly on Ivan as a character, he's seen Till so endlessly sympathetic and kind-hearted, Till as a person makes Ivan's deep and intense feelings come to the surface inevtibly even if it's hard to put a word to exactly what he feels, especially in that moment, so much to be said but nothing to say. But it's instinct to care, even though he wasn't shown that pity was something to give- his misery was met with mistreatment and punishment in his childhood, but something about seeing Till in such a state reveals a different side of him from the side that he would usually direct onto himself; he empathizes. Even if he doesn't know exactly what he's doing, and he's just clumsily nuzzling his face against Till's

A part of Ivan's character is a constant journey and exercise in expression, recognizing emotions, and in this case (compassion). Ivan is disconnected from his environment, his whole world is bleak, and he sorts people into cateragories and calculates how to approach them, not because it's what he wants to do, but because it's what he has to do, one of the only things in his control that he can manage in that regard is how he can maintain his perception for others and how he can perceive others. The closest we come to seeing him shift from that outside of Till is Sua, and still, she was also in a category (he just placed her in the same category he was in, to be exact, because of how he observed her), so he deals with people in much the same disconnected fashion

It's just that he's different for Till. Because aforementioned, Till's presence in Ivan's life, His love for Till pries open a part of Ivan that Ivan keeps resolutely shut, the part of him that feels, feels too deeply to be confronted here and now, but he does regardless and no matter how much that has led Ivan places that would eventually make him conclude that that side of him should never come to light, he never leaves Till, his underlying intentions on giving Till the leeway and freedom he wants, first being the meteor shower, and the smaller version with the collars, children don't instinctively know how to sympathize unless their environment teaches them how to express it, but it must be instinct to care for someone who's life you prioritize even over your own, it's just not so easily understood

His cover of wiege is also a nice callback to this, what I always loved about Wiege was how soothing it was as a song, even in the cruel, upside down world they live in, they still find comfort where they can in others and in healing through sharing it, in dreaming that things will be or could've been better even if something darker is looming over them.

Let a child who has never sung a lullaby, and like most in their world, didn't grow up happy and comforted, sing a lullaby and come in contact with that part of himself that only comes rarely, that he doesn't believe he is good enough to have had in the first place, the gentleness that is often pushed down for the facade of resignation and indifference. Ivan would never properly come to accept that he could. He has spent his whole life convincing himself he's just an unlovable person, and the people around him, and the way he perceived them, were a confirmation that he indeed didn't belong and wasn't a person capable of loving or being loved in return

These are lessons Ivan never came to learn because he was too adamant on a simplicity, that was the result of his insecurity and fears but simple enough for him to accept and live with, Nowhere is the best telling of this because the song lays out why he is the way he is, how he perceives the world as unforgiving and cruel and ultimately not where he can exist, his existence is like an (anomaly), even in the small moments of peace and love that exists between humans, he's an observer watching from the outside in and he's living day by day in a blur and he doesn't ask questions or try to change anything about it. Although it's an unfortunate situation to be in, loneliness isn't as pitiful as it may appear to be, and Ivan's method of self-isolation and coldness to the world keeps him alive and in control, so he allows himself to fill that role because ultimately, he fears confronting that all of his beliefs were wrong and questioning himself, he fears shifting from that role. After all, accepting some truths that we understand is something he can't afford to let consume him; he can't afford to fully see himself or trust Till with his feelings, not when it can hurt him (again), not when he can perceive him, perhaps even prove him wrong (Because if it were any more obvious that Till cared for him, Ivan would have to rethink everything about his "I'm not a person anyone can truly understand or love" belief, he does everything to convince himself that he's nothing to Till because he's so sure). It's simple to believe that this one-sided desperation is just something he has to live with and is the result of the kind of person he is, and not something he's miscalculating.

It's hard to interpret why Ivan's self-soothing mechanisms and the way he cares are so convoluted, but when he's so resolute in the notion that he's unable to be like others and usually won't let himself be so open to vulnerability because on the inside he doesn't think anyone as twisted, impure such as himself could, not without doing something wrong or something that he'd regret. But loving Till and observing him was a gateway to learning how to do the same back, even if it's this much, a hesitant, vulnerable, human gentleness that he doesn't know what to do with, (In this way, I like to think those moments in their childhood taught him some little things that children would usually learn from their caretakers, if that makes sense... Ivan is like a sponge to me, so I think just like that comic where they were telling a flower to cheer up, Till's compassionate character taught him more things about what it is to be human.)

[the-raindeer-king]

Imagine Simon's mom doesn't die with Tommy and Beth. Maybe she was out of town, or at a friend's house, and Roba's men were sloppy and missed her. Anyway, so it's just Simon and her now, and because he blames himself for what happened, he's pulled away from her.

He pays her rent, even if he wanted her to live in a nicer apartment complex. And he visits during her birthday and Mother's Day, and sometimes just randomly stops by. But he never stays very long, and he doesn't tell her a lot about his new life. It's a very one sided relationship, but she tries to make the best of it.

And then you move in next door, during one of Simon's deployments. You feel bad for the sweet lady that lives next to you. She never seems to have much company, and you take it upon yourself to befriend her, spending more time in her apartment than your own.

You learn about her ex husband, her sons, the tragedy, and most importantly, you learn about Simon. And you hate him. Mrs. Riley (she insists you call her Sarah) is such a lovely woman, and it's clear how much she cares about her living son, how hard she's trying to keep their relationship alive.

It's the second Mother's Day after you move in when you finally meet Simon. Your relationship with your own mother is complicated, so you've opted to spend the day with Mrs. Riley. You'd gotten her a small present, and had planned to spend the day drinking wine and watching historical romance movies.

You're thoroughly shocked when you knock on her door, and a man answers. Six feet, built like a brick house, but under his scowl, you recognize Sarah's eyes.

“You must be Simon.”

His scowl deepens, but before he can say anything, Mama Riley is pushing past him, pulling you into her apartment to fuss over you.

She apologizes for not telling you sooner, but your plans will have to be rescheduled. Simon's back early, and she can't waste a precious second.

You're understanding. You've listened to her worried rants, given her space to cry over how things have turned out. You know she loves spending time with her son, even if the visits are short and he doesn't talk much.

Simon doesn't miss the way you glare at him. There's a fury in your eyes, even as you cheerily wish his mother a happy mother's day. For a moment, he wonders if you're a spy. But that thought is quickly diminished, when you verbally eviscerate him at the door.

You're quiet, not wanting to upset his mom, but your anger is clear. It may not be your business, but Mama Riley is your friend, and you adore the older woman. And you cannot stand by while he treats her like this. She loves her son so much, and he needs to step up and try harder.

As you're chewing him out, Simon's already head over heels, planning your wedding as the seconds tick by.

(A/N: You can read this as a stand alone piece, but I did write 3 more drabbles (four in total!) for this! They're all on my blog under the tag mama riley au. Thank you for reading!)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hi love! Could you do Lewis with a teen daughter that always does his braids or his hair and is also kind of known around the paddock for her style/her own hair?

Braids

The sun glinted off the sleek, shining cars in the paddock as cameras flashed and fans cheered. It was a busy Friday at the track, the buzz of another race weekend filling the air. The usual suspects had already arrived—drivers, engineers, media—each adding to the electric energy. But nothing could prepare anyone for the wave of excitement that swept through the paddock when Lewis strolled in, exuding confidence and charm.

His hair, freshly braided, was styled with a precision and flair that had everyone doing a double-take. The intricate patterns woven across his scalp, sleek and symmetrical, highlighted his already striking features. His usual cool demeanor was accented by a sharp designer outfit—an oversized cream jacket paired with tailored trousers, accessorized with diamond studs that caught the sunlight.

"Whoa," Oscar said, nudging Lando in the ribs as they stood by the McLaren garage. "Look at Lewis. Fresh braids. Man's killing it."

Lando squinted, pushing his curly hair back under his cap. "Yeah, that's clean. Wonder who did them?"

The mystery didn't linger for long. As Lewis made his way through the paddock, reporters swarmed, eager to capture the new look. One particularly bold journalist caught his attention. "Lewis! Those braids are incredible. Where'd you get them done?"

A wide smile spread across his face, pride gleaming in his eyes. "My daughter did them," he said, his voice warm. "Yn's been braiding my hair since she was fifteen. She's eighteen now—practically a pro."

The crowd hummed with admiration. Of course, it had to be Yn. She was already a sensation in her own right. Known for her cutting-edge fashion and signature hairstyles, Yn had a unique flair that blended timeless elegance with modern boldness. More than once, she had turned the paddock into her personal runway, never afraid to experiment or push boundaries. It was no wonder her father's braids were flawless.

By the time Lewis reached the Ferrari garage, the internet was ablaze. Social media flooded with close-ups of his new hairstyle, captions unanimously praising Yn's talent.

Braids by Yn. The Hamilton genes are undefeated.

Forget the cars, can we talk about Lewis' hair? His daughter has hands blessed by the gods.

Lewis scrolled through the comments during a quiet moment, chuckling softly to himself. Pride swelled in his chest. He knew how talented his daughter was, but seeing the world recognize it too? That was something else.

The next day, just when the paddock thought it had seen everything, Yn arrived.

She walked in with her grandparents on either side, exuding effortless confidence. Her outfit hugged her figure perfectly, balanced by chunky gold jewellery and boots that clacked softly against the concrete. But it was her hair that stole the show.

Yn's braids, an intricate cascade of rich brown strands, shimmered in the sunlight. Small and delicate curles were woven throughout, catching the light with every movement. The patterns were even more complex than the ones she'd done for her father, a true testament to her skill.

As soon as Lewis spotted her, a grin broke across his face. He crossed the garage in a few strides, wrapping his daughter in a warm embrace. "You did these yourself?" he asked, pulling back slightly to examine the braids.

"Of course," Yn beamed, tilting her head to give him a better view. "You know I had to come correct."

He chuckled, reaching out to carefully take a braid between his fingers. "These are beautiful, baby. You outdid yourself."

"Wait until you see what I want to try next," Yn said, pulling out her phone. She swiped through her photo gallery, showing him a series of inspiration images. "This one's a geometric pattern—super sharp lines—and this..." She paused on a picture of short, shoulder-length twists. "I think you'd look sick with these."

Lewis listened attentively, nodding along as she spoke. He always loved how passionate she was about her craft. "I trust you," he said. "Whatever you want to try next, I'm game."

Just then, Charles wandered over, his eyes widening when he saw Yn. "Whoa, okay," he said, giving an approving nod. "The braids are next-level. You're making the rest of us look bad."

Yn laughed, bumping her shoulder playfully against her father's. "Can't help it if we're the most stylish ones here."

"Facts," Lewis added, his arm draping comfortably around her shoulders. "It's in the blood."

Their easy banter and undeniable charisma made them the most photogenic duo in the paddock. Cameras followed their every move, capturing moments of laughter, admiration, and love. By the time the day was over, the hashtag #HamiltonRoyalty was trending worldwide.

Later that afternoon, while Lewis prepared for qualifying, Yn sat in the Ferrari hospitality suite with her grandparents, chatting softly. Every so often, she'd glance at the TV screens broadcasting her father's on-track performance, a quiet pride blooming in her chest.

When he emerged after a blistering lap that put him on the front row, Yn was the first person he sought out. "Told you I'd deliver," he teased, pulling her into another hug.

"Of course you did," Yn replied, her voice soft with affection. "You're the GOAT."

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the paddock settled into a golden glow, the image of the stylish Hamiltons—father and daughter, side by side—lingered in everyone's minds. The world could talk about race strategies and lap times all day long, but nothing was as iconic as the bond they shared. And if there was one thing everyone agreed on, it was that Yn was just getting started.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves! I hope you enjoyed this story. My requests are always open for you.

-💙🦋

[theminecraftbee]

If Cleo hadn’t known Joe for longer than either of them have known Hermitcraft, she might be concerned about Joe having an argument with himself about which of his six contingency boltholes to hide the two of them in and discuss plans. She might be even more concerned about how blatantly questionable several of them are—she didn’t even know Etho had an attic, let alone one Joe knew how to break into and had hidden a bed in. However, Cleo’s known Joe since longer than either of them have known Hermitcraft, and frankly this is an impressively minimal amount of bafflingly designed anxiety-induced disaster prep for him, so she just lets him guide him into the room and sits cross-legged on the floor.

“No one ever remembers that the overworld smells different,” she says with a sigh.

“For example, here it smells like Etho’s socks,” Joe responds. “Why does he keep socks in the attic, Cleo? I still haven’t figured it out!”

Cleo snorts. “He’s a very strange little man.”

Joe shakes his head. “No, no, if he were a strange little man, I’d know. That’s what I am!”

“No, you’re a strange little puppet these days. Entirely different.”

“Oh, right.”

The two of them sit in silence for a bit after that. Cleo just breathes. They are supposed to be dead or exiled, and they are not. “Supposed to be dead but they’re not” is like, Cleo’s entire thing as a zombie, and Joe’s entire thing as a person, so that’s not what’s making Cleo’s heart race. Maybe Joe’s right; maybe it is the smell of socks. Maybe, though, it’s that the world is different colors. Everything isn’t the same awful grey and red, stretched out endlessly across the horizon.

A fuzzy puppet hand is placed on her own. Cleo looks down.

“Sorry I couldn’t talk to you the whole time. I was being hunted for sport,” Joe says.

“What? No, don’t answer that. Scar. That was obvious. Don’t know why I bothered asking.”

“Doc also kind of wanted to?” Joe says. “But as we both know, Doc’s really bad at making threats that are actually actionable. It’s sort of embarrassing. Cub, also, although Cub and I were mostly engaged in psychological warfare. It’s kind of a shame he exiled himself; who else has an appropriately complex relationship with fireworks and comic sans?”

Cleo snorts. “Never change, Joe.”

“I can’t promise that. To live is to change,” Joe says solemnly.

“Walked into that one,” Cleo says.

They both fall silent a little longer.

“The fact you called me at all, uh. Texted me. Kept me company. Fought a dragon? The drop shipping? I—”

“If my best friend goes mad from loneliness I’m not a very good friend,” Joe says.

“Still, thanks,” Cleo says. “Thank you. It was—thank you.”

“Anyone would have,” Joe says, and all at once Cleo is laughing and sobbing into their hands. Distantly, they can hear Joe panicking; he’s never been very good at other people’s emotions. It’s just—nothing, for days, and everything now, and the edges of their sleeves are still singed from Grian’s attempt to render it all pointless, and Joe’s right here, and Joe’s right here, saying:

“It’s alright, Cleo. I mean, it’s not, there’s an authoritarian government that isn’t letting me play Permitmaster. But it’s okay, for some definition of that, I think—”

“They really wouldn’t,” Cleo manages between choked breaths.

“What?” Joe says.

“You said it’s what anyone would do and they really wouldn’t,” Cleo says.

“…really?” Joe says, and he sounds so idiotically baffled and so exactly like Joe Hills, constant in Cleo’s life since before either of them knew what a Hermitcraft was, that she breaks down into sobs again. Distantly, she recognizes that this is a symptom of having ridden a horse across the nether roof for enough days in a row that her ability to emotionally regulate snapped a little. Immediately, though, she can’t stop thinking about how lucky she is.

Joe smiles, strangely kind for a puppet, and leans his entire felt body against her. He stops talking for the moment. Cleo knows it’s more that he’s probably panicking internally than out of any desire for silence, but…

She’s really, really lucky.

By some miracle stroke, they’re both left alone long enough for Cleo to pull herself together, and then, to the sound of distant fireworks and sirens, they escape Etho’s attic, laughing.

Together they really are going to be so annoyingly unstoppable.

[thesecretaryy]

┌─ ✦ NOT SO SLICK ABOUT THEIR SICK HABITS

MDNI, Yandare JJK men, mentions of stalking, panty stealing, hacking, age gap, jealousy, slight obsession, fem!reader.

Characters; Satoru Gojo, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro.

SATORU GOJO — NERDJO

Satoru wasn’t a jealous person, not at all, right? He thought so until he realised he didn’t want any guy to hit on you. He met you in robotics class, apparently, you only took this class to get extra credit, while he was actually really into robotics. So it ended up with him helping you with everything, programming, building, and writing the report on how the whole work went. And while he did all this, spent so much time with you, He started developing a crush on you, a very big crush.

He didn’t even realise it before he saw one of the guys on the football team giving you his number. He was up almost the whole night thinking about it, until he realised he could literally just remove the football guys number from your phone. The next day, he stayed after school in the robotics classroom and waited until everyone had left, even the janitor. To hack into your phone through the school computer and delete every guys number from your phone.

It wasn’t long after he started doing it, that you caught him.

You had detention one day, and when you were finally on your way home, you saw him in the robotics classroom, sitting in front of a big computer and logging into your account. That’s when you realised that he was the one who had made all those numbers from your phone disappear.

In a way, you thought it was kind of cute. He was too pathetic to ask you out, but he could surely make it impossible for anyone else to do so, either.

CHOSO KAMO — THE PHOTOGRAPHER

Choso thought he was so sneaky. He always sat at three different places, right outside your campus, your favourite cafe, or outside your dorm. At first, Choso didn’t think of it as weird. Just him admiring his pretty best friend, you were just so beautiful. So all those photos he took of you were normal, well, he thought so until he realised that his camera was now only full of photos of you. Then he accepted this new slight obsession as the new “normal”.

Today he was sitting at his favourite spot, right outside your dorm. He was watching you pace around in your dorm, talking to someone on the phone. He saw as you put down your phone on a high surface, and then you started to undress. Choso's eyes widened, and his heart started pounding loudly, loud enough to tune out the noise of the late-night traffic. You lifted the hem of your shirt, slowly peeling it off your body and revealing your black lace bra. To his surprise, right after you had removed your shirt, you walked up to your window. He could see that you were looking for something, or someone, with the way your eyes searched the perimeter. He froze in place when you finally made eye contact. You looked at him for a long while before laughing. Just a minute later, he got a text. “I see you too.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO — THE NEIGHBOUR

You recently moved into a new apartment complex, you had just graduated and were ready for a new chapter in your life, and that new chapter was finally living alone. What you didn’t expect was that you would get a very loud neighbour. It wasn’t that he was loud, just the girls he’d bring over every day.

So one day, you couldn’t take it anymore, you walked the short way from your apartment to his. Knocking loudly on his door, and waiting a few long seconds for him to finally open the door. He just leaned against the doorway, with no shirt and grey sweatpants.

He looked at you confusedly, “Can I help you?” He asked in a low tone. Seemingly not recognizing you as his new neighbour, who moved in more than two weeks ago.

You realized his confusion about who you were and started with, “I just moved in a few weeks ago, and I can’t get any sleep because of your constant…night activities.”

“…Okay?”

“So I need you to ask them to be quieter or get some soundproofing done to your walls.”

He looked you up and down for a few seconds, silently, before answering. “Okay.”

“…Thanks”

Since your short conversation, the noise has completely stopped. It seemed as if he actually listened to you. As a thank you, you brought over beer and sometimes invited him over for dinner. The two of you started to have frequent neighbourly chats and hangouts. You’d learned his name, Toji, and his age, 29. The age gap between you two wasn’t that bad; you were almost twenty, after all. Your conversations consisted of talking about both your work and your friends. You did most of the talking, actually; he mostly listened and answered when you asked something, but he was nice company, and he had a funny attitude.

A few months into your frequent hangouts, you started noticing that your underwear had started to disappear. You remembered that you put them down in your washing bag, but then they never came out clean; they never came out at all. They were just gone. At least five or six of your favourite panties had just disappeared.

You pieced together all the pieces and realized that they had started to disappear right after you'd hang out with Toji, your first thought was obviously that he wouldn't, right?

After one of your longer hangouts with Toji, you saw something right before he left, there was something in the pocket of his jeans. Something bright pink.

“Toji…”

“Yeah?” He said and turned around, now standing halfway out the door.

“My…underwear has been disappearing, you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Slowly, a grin started to appear on his face, he hummed lowly in response before actually answering. “Ahh, caught me have you?”

“…”

“C’mon, you were the one who told me all that noise from my hookups bothered you, and the soundproofing was too expensive.”

“…So you stopped having them over?”

“Yeah, and I needed something else to help me…” He trailed off, but the words that were supposed to come were obvious.

“Get off?”

“Precisely.”

“So you decided to steal my panties?”

“It was just so tempting to know what you'd taste like.”

“Why not have the real thing instead?” You teased, tilting your head to the side as you stepped back into your apartment, insinuating that he could come in again.

[aventurineswife]

Ratio, Sampo, Aventurine and Boothill overhead or find out that reader has feelings for them

Basically reader secretly has a crush on them

Some Truths Refuse to Stay Hidden

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Boothill x Reader, Fluff, Light Angst (Aventurine & Boothill’s parts (?)), Teasing & Banter, Eavesdropping/Overheard Confession, Crush Confession, Mild Suggestiveness (Aventurine’s part), Playful Flirting.

Warnings: Slight Manipulation (Aventurine's & Sampo's part), Mild Language, Gambling References (Aventurine’s part), Implied Drinking (Boothill’s part), Cocky & Overconfident (All of them, honestly).

Taglist: @themiddletenmasibling

Ratio had always prided himself on his sharp intellect, his ability to solve even the most complex of problems with a mere glance. But as he stood just outside the library’s archway, listening to the whispered confession escaping your lips, he found himself at a loss.

“I know he’s arrogant,” you murmured to a friend, a book clutched tightly to your chest, “and he talks like he has all the answers. But… I can’t help it. There’s something about him. The way he sees things, the way he challenges everything… I admire him.”

His name was never spoken, but there was no doubt who you were talking about.

Ratio stepped into the library, his usual composed expression giving away nothing. “It’s a shame,” he said, making you stiffen. “For someone so observant, you fail to recognize the most obvious of truths.”

You turned sharply, eyes wide. “What—”

He stepped closer, voice dropping into something softer, something edged with amusement. “You assume admiration is one-sided?” His piercing gaze met yours. “Perhaps, if you were to look at the variables again, you would see the solution has always been within reach.”

You blinked, heartbeat racing. “Are you saying…?”

Ratio smirked. “I’m saying, if you were to confess again—this time to my face—I might just be inclined to give you the answer you’re hoping for.”

Sampo had an uncanny ability to be exactly where he wasn’t supposed to be.

Which is how he found himself eavesdropping outside a supply room, arms crossed as he listened to you, of all people, admitting something rather interesting to Natasha.

“I don’t know why I like him,” you groaned. “He’s frustrating, sneaky, and probably lying half the time—but somehow, I just… do.”

Sampo’s grin widened. Oh?

He waited a beat before dramatically pushing the door open, wearing the most innocent expression he could muster. “Well, well, well! What’s all this, huh? Talking about little old me behind my back? I’m flattered!”

You spun around, color draining from your face before returning in full force. “How long have you—?”

“Long enough!” He waggled his eyebrows. “Gotta say, sunshine, I had no idea you felt that way.”

Natasha sighed, unimpressed. “Sampo, get out.”

“Ah-ah, not before I get a proper answer!” He leaned closer, voice teasing but eyes searching. “So? You like me, huh? Care to make that official, or should I start wooing you properly?”

You groaned, covering your face. “I take it back.”

“Ah, too late! No refunds, no returns,” he chuckled. “Guess that means you’re stuck with me now.”

Aventurine always knew when people were lying. It was a skill he had honed to perfection, a survival instinct as much as a talent.

But what fascinated him more was when people told the truth without realizing it.

And tonight, as he leaned casually against the grand casino balcony, he had just stumbled upon a rather delightful little secret.

“I know he’s dangerous,” you admitted to someone, your voice lost in the buzz of music and chatter below. “But that’s what makes him so compelling. It’s like every conversation is a game, and I… I can’t help but want to play.”

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. Oh, darling, you’re more than just playing—you’re already all in.

Slipping out of the shadows, he chuckled as you jolted at his sudden presence. “Now, now. What’s this I hear? Someone’s got a little crush?”

You gasped. “You—!?”

Aventurine tilted his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. “You wound me, dearest. How could you not tell me sooner?” He tapped his chin, pretending to consider. “Should I make this interesting? A gamble, perhaps?”

Your breath caught. “What kind of gamble?”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a murmur. “A kiss, if you win.” A pause, then a smirk. “And if I win? Well, I suppose I’ll just have to take that kiss myself.”

Boothill had been called many things—reckless, ruthless, a dead man walking. But blind wasn’t one of them.

Which was why, when he overheard your conversation with an old friend in a dimly lit saloon, he wasn’t exactly surprised.

“You ever tell him?” your friend asked, swirling their drink.

You scoffed. “Tell Boothill? Please. He’d probably laugh in my face.”

At that moment, the infamous cyborg cowboy made his entrance, heavy boots clicking against the floor. “Now, sweetheart,” he drawled, teeth flashing in a shark-like grin, “what makes you think I’d do a thing like that?”

Your eyes widened in horror. “You—!? How long—!?”

Boothill tipped his hat, sliding into the seat beside you. “Long enough to hear somethin’ real interestin’.” He leaned closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Now, tell me true—was that just some whiskey talk, or do you really got a thing for me?”

You glared at your friend, who was conveniently looking the other way. “I hate you.”

Boothill just chuckled. “That ain’t an answer, sugar.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “And if I did?”

He smirked. “Then I reckon you just made my day a whole lot more interesting.”

[astraule]

"I Want You"

Pairing: Neteyam x Reader Song: Cornflower Blue - Flower Face “Moonlight paints your skin cornflower blue. You love me ‘til you wear me out.” Tags: 18+, aged up characters, self-consciousness, size difference, size kink, virginity and innocence, talking you through it, fingering, PIV. Translation: Ikran (banshee), Tewng (loincloth), Sweyn nga kxuke (keep you safe), Yawntu (beloved), Nga fyep ma txe’lan (you hold my heart), Palulukan (thanator). Y/N: She/Her human-avatar hybrid reader. (human body and height with avatar details like markings, tail, and cue). Word Count: 1.7 K Summary: As the group journeyed into the Hallelujah Mountains, Neteyam stopped in the forest of bioluminescence to reveal his heart to you. He was taken by your beauty, but you were wary, fearful of your differences and uncertain destiny. With tension lost, your soft touches became passionate ones, strengthening your connection. On the way back to High Camp, Kiri saw your disheveled look, which intrigued her and Lo'ak. Their realization made them laugh and led to shock, especially given the uncomfortable tension between you, Neteyam, and Kiri. The initial dialogues are in Na’vi, but they are clearly presented in English for better comprehension. I’ve chosen to retain a few Na’vi terms to add a playful touch to the fanfic.

3RD POV: (High Camp Biolab)

"How many times do we have to remind you all to take the long way around?" A female voice echoed through the biolab, catching your attention. Kiri mimicked the voice with an exaggerated eye roll as she reached for a CO2 mask, joined by Lo'ak and Neteyam. Meanwhile, Spider peeled off his exopack and savored a gulp of fresh air. Unlike you, who'd had no problem breathing inside under cover of the humans, and outside on Pandora.

"What are you all here?" You asked, rising off the ground as you stood beside Spider. "You know Kiri; she can't resist visiting Grace every single day," Lo'ak replied as he watched Kiri perch on top of Grace's tank. "And we thought you might want to join us for some fun," Neteyam added.

As Neteyam spoke, you looked over at Max, silently seeking his approval. "I don't see why not," he replied, returning to his tasks. Spider chimed in, teasingly questioning, "You still need to ask for permission?" With a smirk, you crossed your arms and shot back, "I'm a vital part of the biolab; what if they need me and I'm not around?"

You and Spider shared a bond to that of siblings, having been at the biolab since the very beginning of your lives. The story of your creation is a complex one; it all began when a group of scientists experimented with human and avatar DNA, leading to the unexpected emergence of your egg in one of the tanks. When you were an embryo, you had a humanly figure but shortly after that, your tail and cue began to develop. By the time you were fully formed, you left everyone in awe, an astonishing amalgamation of human and avatar characteristics.

From that day on, you and Spider grew up together, learning English and Na'vi at the same time. When you met the Sully kids, a strong friendship was born that has lasted ever since, clearly going into adulthood.

(Hallelujah Mountains)

"Why do we have to check out the ikrans when we already have ours?" you asked, trotting to catch up with Neteyam while following Lo'ak, Kiri, and Spider. "Well, you see, Spider is once more painting our marks on himself and we want to see if he will actually get recognized by ikrans this time," Lo'ak added with a smile. "Fair warning, it's probably gonna go sideways," Kiri commented.

"Good luck to you," you said, crossing your arms. Just then, Neteyam caught your arm, halting your steps. "What are you doing?" you began, but he cut you off. "Forget about these fools and their nonsense; I have something to show you."

(Bioluminescent Forest)

"Wait… how can this be? Is it already night?" you asked, looking around in shock as Neteyam shook his head. "Not at all, the trees are just so tall; they block out all sunlight that could shine down on us."

"The view is so beautiful," you said, bending down to stroke a bright tuft of grass that glimmered emerald green. "Not as beautiful as you," Neteyam said, his eyes moving from your back down to the bend in your leg. You spun around, your curiosity piqued. "Huh?" you hummed, catching Neteyam gaze fixed on you, his eyes tracing the cascade of hair down your back. "Seriously, Y/N, you can't tell me you haven't seen the way I look at you," he said, the faintest hint of color rising in your cheeks.

“Stop it with the jokes," you were saying just before your body hit the ground illuminating the green grass under you with Neteyam on top of you. "I swear, I'm not joking, Y/N," he said, his voice laced with a bit of concern. "Neteyam…", you breathed out, your heart racing. "Believe me, I can't keep these feelings for you to myself any longer." Neteyam replied, swallowing hard as your gaze dropped, noticing the outline pressing against his tewng.

"Neteyam, we can't do this," you said, trying to turn away from him. "Why not?" he asked, his huge tail, much thicker and longer than yours, wrapping itself around your slim left leg. "Your parents, your siblings" you replied, setting your gaze forward so you could look into his eyes.

"You really think I want to hide my feelings for you? That ship has already sailed," he said with a warm smile directed at you. "Neteyam, this isn't how it should be. You're Na'vi, and I'm just an abomination. You deserve someone who can provide a legacy worthy of the son of the olo'eytan," you replied. Unbeknownst to everyone else, but deep down, you had feelings for Neteyam for a very long period of time, you knew it could never be.

"Why would you think such a thing about yourself? Why would I seek a successor if it can't be with the woman I truly love and cherish?" he said, his hand gently cupping your cheek, covering the entire side of your face. A child born to a Na'vi in a human-like body caused you fear, you did not know of the possibilities ahead of what could happen.

"Neteyam, I am-," you said, about to further your message when he hushed you with "you’re small, I know,” calmly trying to calm your fears. "We cannot afford the luxury of not taking into consideration what may happen." Your eyes had welled up with tears as you replied, "I love you, Neteyam, but I’ll feel so worthless if I’m unable to bear your children." He looked at you with sincerity and said, "Y/N, you, the woman I love, were born in a science lab. So why can't our children be the same?”

You began to voice your apprehensions, saying, "and what if I accidentally-," but he cut you off with a soft kiss on the forehead that seemed to envelop you. "Eywa sweyn nga kxuke," he murmured, looking into your eyes. It felt like at this moment, all your fears fled, leaving behind only the desire to be at his side.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, "I will keep you safe." His warm tongue caressed your soft lips with gentle strokes, and you buried your fingers into his shoulders, digging your nails deep into his skin, eliciting a soft wince from him. Your lips parted, and with the opening, your gaze locked into his as you whispered, "Neteyam, please take care of me." The lust in your eyes was clear, wordlessly inviting him to take every possibility of you.

He soothed you reassuringly, hissing, "I'll take care of you, yawntu," as his huge hand came to rest on your small belly, his thumb drawing soft circles for a moment. Then, with slow intention, he slid his hand to the knots of your loincloth, loosening them gently and moving it aside. The loincloth hadn't covered that much anyway, but why not enjoy the sight of the one he loved in all her beauty?

Neteyam noticed the flush on your cheeks and smiled. "There’s no reason to feel shy, you’re beautiful." He loosened his loincloth, showing himself. He saw a different sort of fear in your eyes and muttered, "I'll prepare you for what's to come," as his hand slid to caress the warmth between your legs, wringing a soft whimper from your lips.

"Teyam," you whispered, your hand closing around his forearm. "Don't worry, I’ve got you," he said, his finger tentatively probing at your entrance causing you to wince a bit. As inexperienced as you were, you couldn’t help but wonder if one of his fingers was this intense then two would equal the girth of an average man.

Your thoughts were briefly interrupted as his finger moved slowly inside you, not trying to find necessarily anything but instead adjusting you perfectly for him. Your breath quickened, letting out soft gasps every time Neteyam paused before continuing his motions. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you, my dear; I really don’t want to hurt you,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaning in to capture your lips with his.

His massive, cat-like tongue glided over your lips before diving into your mouth, completely dominating the moment. Your small tongue quickly gave into his as the kiss deepened. With his tongue filling your mouth, you didn’t notice his other finger slipping inside you until he pulled away, and the sensation hit you hard. It made you arch your back a bit, a blend of pleasure and discomfort flooding through you. His arm encircled your back, holding you steady as he placed soft kisses along your neck.

Neteyam's breath brushed against your neck as he whispered, “Nga fyep ma txe’lan,” sending a thrilling shiver down your spine while his fingers caressed within you gently. This was the moment you had always envisioned, and the depth of Neteyam's feelings for you made it even more overwhelming, bringing tears to your eyes as you struggled to hold back a sniffle. A look of concern crossed his face as he paused, gazing at you with worry. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked softly.

You shook your head, brushing away tears with the back of your hand, as you pleaded softly, "I want you, please." The urgency in your voice caught Neteyam's interest, his ears perked up with curiosity. He withdrew his fingers slowly, only to plunge himself into you halfway, making a gasp tumble out of your lips.

"The sounds we're creating will make the rest of Pandora's creatures believe that we're not so different from them." Neteyam grunted, sensing how your walls tightened around him. "At least they'll leave us alone," you said, peering up at him with streaming eyes and a running nose. This was the very image that Neteyam cherished.

(High Camp)

"Neteyam, Y/N? Where did you two go?" Kiri asked, her eyes narrowing at your tousled state. Your hair was in knots, and hickeys marked your neck and scratches on Neteyam's back. You looked like you had just crawled out of a fight with a palulukan. "You've been gone for an hour-" Lo'ak began, it didn’t take him long to realize. He looked at Spider, and they shared a knowing look before bursting out laughing.

Kiri stared at them in shock, her face changing as the realization dawned on her. "Oh Eywa, really? That is repulsive," she cried, looking back and forth between you and Neteyam. "You're my brother, and you're my best friend," she insisted, affirming your relationship with both of them. "I never wish to hear of that again," she finished, as your cheeks flushed with shame as Neteyam sympathetically patted you on the back.

It took me long enough to get all of this together, but I had my idea and wasn't about to let that prevent me. I hope everyone enjoyed the read.

[tritoch]

Have you got any thoughts to share about Sphene? I saw your post about how misrepresented FFXIV’s female characters are, and I’ve been hoping to see anything more than the typical “Evil AI colonizer etc.” or “Tragic woman who can never change ever” or “Wuk Lamat’s girlfriend”. Maybe our interpretations will differ but I’ll be happy if you can provide anything more complex than those.

Sure! Throwing all this under a read-more for anyone who hasn't finished 7.0 yet. I think I'll probably expand on this more later but wanted to get initial thoughts down. (Note after writing: I meant this to be brief but uhhhh brevity is not my strong suit sorry. This take just sort of ends abruptly because I realize I'm rambling.) Again, spoilers through the end of 7.0 MSQ.

I think Sphene is the sharpest work the game has done yet in casting the antagonist as the noble double of the protagonist (a well it returns to a lot with Emet, and Zenos, and Golbez, and...). But because the protagonist here is Wuk Lamat and not the Warrior of Light, that's also a much more defined and interesting role. To me, Wuk Lamat is, above all, the Righteous Queen, who rules thoughtfully, wisely, and justly, and whose claim to the throne is justified by her moral clarity. Sphene, in turn, is also a wise and good queen, one who undertakes all her actions with her people first in her hearts, a sense of compassion towards all, and a clear eye for the consequences and costs of her intended course of action. And it leads to utter disaster, for her, her people, and the people of Tural. That rocks!

The first half of 7.0 is about justifying the fact that Wuk Lamat's going to be Dawnservant. Wuk Lamat is compassionate, curious, wise, and open-minded. She wins over rebels and malcontents not by asserting her authority or by strength of force, but by taking her obligations to them (as her subjects) seriously. She knows many of her subjects personally and takes a great interest in their lives, and she respects even those who openly oppose her.

And everything Wuk Lamat does, Sphene does to 11. Wuk Lamat respects her subject peoples and is curious about their cultures? Sphene forcibly annexes Yyasulani, but goes out of her way and expends Alexandria's limited resources to enable the remaining Xak Turali to live in their accustomed way if desired (…to the extent allowed by the new permanent lightning storms and the internal conflicts caused by regulator adoption). Wuk Lamat cares about her people not just in the abstract but as individuals? Sphene visits sick kids, knows them by name! Wuk Lamat understands the burden of rulership is too great and cedes half her power to her brother? Sphene recognizes her own weaknesses and makes a deal with the devil to keep Alexandria's culture alive! Wuk Lamat is willing to die for her people? Sphene will forcibly traumatize herself into being a better queen, if that's what rulership demands.

For an expansion that spends the first half being like "wow isn't this perfect candidate for the crown so likable and humble? wouldn't it be nice to be ruled by a good king?," it sure is funny that the final boss is THE QUEEN ETERNAL and she hits you with attacks like LEGITIMATE FORCE and ABSOLUTE AUTHORITY and ROYAL DOMAIN. This, to me, is Sphene's role: she complicates and questions the themes we've developed in the first half. Most importantly to me, she makes us ask: what is devotion to a people or culture even worth?

There's a thing I kept thinking of constantly during Dawntrail, not because I think it directly influenced the game in any way but because the parallels were so stark and startling. It's Jonathan Hickman's New Avengers #18 (2014). Truthfully, I'm not a big comics guy; I only know this sequence because Ta-Nehisi Coates cited it as inspiration for his Black Panther run on Twitter once (I also didn't read TNC's run, I was following him for politics talk). Forgive me, comics people, if I get any details wrong. The parallels are almost comical, though. It goes like this:

A superhuman secret society formed of some of the smartest heroes (and villains) in the land re-forms to oppose an existential threat caused by incursions from other dimensions that threaten to cause literal collisions between Earth and its alternate dimension counterparts. Seeing no other alternatives, they undertake work on a weapon to destroy these other worlds. T'challa—king of a fictional hyperadvanced nation called Wakanda, and also the superhuman Black Panther—meets with his ghostly predecessors, the previous Black Panthers/kings, for he fears the moral stain on his soul and the souls of the people of Wakanda, if they survive explicitly by killing their alternate counterparts, will be too heavy to bear. His ancestors are not impressed.

To them, there is no question at all. A king's duty may be complex in the execution, but it is simple in its conception. Your people come before all others. Always. This is, must be, the fundamental ethic of a good king. To do otherwise would be a betrayal of the social order on which this imagined good monarchy is built. In a situation like this, the only option is to do what you must to protect them. "Will there be a cost? Yes. Might the universe burn? Let it. . . . You will kill them all if it means Wakanda stands. The golden city must never fall."

"I will do what I must" is Sphene's guiding principle. It is so important to her that when she recognizes that her sentimental attachments are making her waver in her duty, she severs them entirely, sacrificing her whole identity to the throne. It is also implicitly Wuk Lamat's position: she has no choice but to fight Sphene because to do otherwise would be to fail to protect her people. In fact, it's briefly even sort of the Warrior of Light's position, as when you tell Sphene before her trial that you understand what you must do, which is shut her down to protect others.

(One quick thought about the Warrior of Light: one cool thing about the antagonist this time being a double in a more exact way than Emet or Zenos is that it means other characters get a chance to relate to her differently than Wuk Lamat. The Warrior of Light, for example, is pressed into her service immediately upon your first meeting as the Queen's Champion, there to defend her if need be against all evil. This role is further affirmed by both robot Otis and Endless Otis, who essentially hand off their role as her knight to you, and reinforced when you flash back to the "might I call upon your aid" moment right before the end. Except, of course, you are loyal not just to her, but to the principles she represents, which her own acts betray, and so your ultimate act of aid is to essentially pass judgment on her and execute her. In a sense, you become the internal safeguard that a political system is supposed to have to protect against this very issue, and which Alexandria explicitly lost when it cast out/forgot Otis. Very Voeburt/ShB tank quests, it owns.)

But really, it's Sphene who embodies this sort of grim logic best. Aside from her transformation into the Queen Eternal, it's also why she suggests you simply become Alexandrians. It's the only way for her to reconcile her values and worldview, which have backed her into a corner where preserving Alexandria has come to mean a maximalist declaration of war on all life outside its borders because the kind of absolutely pain-free life she envisions for her citizens is completely unsustainable.

In this reading, one of Sphene's main beats is to unsettle what has preceded her in MSQ. In nearly all respects, she shares your values. She prizes life, is curious about other cultures, believes in the greatest good for the greatest possible number. But she is also a queen, and therefore irrevocably (in her eyes) tied to her state. Gulool Ja Ja and Wuk Lamat (and Koana) are the mythical wise rulers, thank god--but what if Wuk had inherited a Turali state that wasn't desperately in need of cross-cultural understanding, but one in a state of war? What value would her deep love for the people of Tural have held then? Sphene says, it would have held no value. If the survival of your people means harming the innocent, you harm the innocent. Kingship allows for no alternatives.

But she also concedes, in the very next breath, that she is still kind of wrong. Because what happened here was not inevitable, despite her programming (a brief note: to me Sphene being programmed is exactly the same as Emet being maybe-tempered, it's a fantasy gloss on the idea of social and cultural education. "I was programmed for this" is really no different from "I was trained and educated for this"), because the truth is that this kind of thoughtful, principled devotion to the state and its people is also a form of sentimental attachment, in the end. One that is maintained not because it is natural, and necessary, but because the monarch, too, likes it, and gets something from it.

In so many ways, in so many senses, the monarch is the state. Kings and queens may fancy themselves merely a reflection of their people's needs and desires, but of course even a cursory glance at history will tell you that far more often, states reflect their rulers. Sphene and Wuk Lamat both suggest that their conflict was inevitable, but was it? Or is the truth, as Sphene glancingly acknowledges here, that she turned her own fears and desires into the same policy goals that led to this tragedy? And if so...what does that say of our Good Queen, Wuk Lamat? Perhaps this could be different if they met earlier, says Wuk Lamat. But when? When did Wuk Lamat ever not love her people so dearly that she would not have sacrificed herself for them, or caused mass death for the sake of their survival? When did Sphene not believe the Endless to be people, or the preservation of Alexandria to be the most important thing? Maybe she means "had we met before you met Zoraal Ja," but of course, we the player actually saw their meeting. And we know that Sphene even then was not the hapless naif she'd like to pretend. She always knew exactly what she was doing.

We know the price of this kind of thinking, this Hobbesian view that states are engaged in a struggle of all against all. Living Memory lets you walk through it. To preserve Tural, we exterminate the Endless. We befriend them, learn about their lives, promise to remember them, and then we destroy them and their homes, leaving nothing but a bleak blank landscape and the sound of wind. This is what Sphene would have done to Tural and Eorzea. Indeed, it's what she's already doing to the people of Yyasulani, because no amount of well-intentioned aid can make up for trapping people under the dome for 30 years and systematically eroding their culture through the resonators.

To me, this is what makes Sphene really work, that way she has of forcing Wuk Lamat and the player to commit the same kinds of sins she has. We'd like to think ourselves better than her, but of course, we've already reconciled with and integrated Mamook's brutal eugenicist regime back into Turali society well before we ever met Sphene. At the end of our long "wow isn't having a wise queen cool???" expansion, we are met with "Legitimate Force" and "Absolute Authority" and see them for what they truly are: nothing but tools of violence. No longer does the idea of the Warrior of Light hanging around Tural as Wuk Lamat's advisor have the same attraction, now that we have been reminded of the way the putatively unquestionable logic of kingship can ultimately lock even the wisest and kindest rulers into a path of war and exploitation and destruction.

I think Sphene is FFXIV's most interesting and nuanced depiction yet of a leader. She really, truly, wants nothing more than to save her people and protect them from pain. But even seemingly loving and compassionate goals like these can readily lead us down dark paths. She's a "hard men make hard choices"-type character, a noble but misguided opponent, but as a loving and elegant fairy queen instead of a grizzled knight or extremely sad man. She fucking rocks.

[altocat]

Even though Cloud fucking hates Sephiroth's guts, a part of him still feels incredible pity for him too. It's rare that we actually get to see this level of nuance from Cloud's perspective. Most of the time he's screaming about wanting to kill Sephiroth/asking where the fuck Sephiroth is so he can fight him/how Sephiroth took everything from him/etc. And don't get me wrong--Cloud is 100% right to feel that way.

That's why Opera Omnia stood out to me because it was the first major instance in which Cloud actually talks about his feelings for the Sephiroth that was, or at least tried to temper his feelings in talking with someone who still cared about Sephiroth as a person (Zack and later Angeal). He doesn't believe Sephiroth can be saved and he makes it clear that it wouldn't change anything for him...but he still recognizes that there would be a reason for others to hold onto Sephiroth the man and not Sephiroth the monster.

There's more to Cloud than just his vendetta. It could be that OO benefits from featuring a Cloud that understands himself and feels more comfortable in his own skin post-OG. Cloud DOES see in shades of gray, or at least he's had to confront a lot of his feelings and acknowledge the more complex line that separates good and evil. He won't ever forgive Sephiroth (nor should he HAVE to), but he can at least understand the tragedy of the situation. And he doesn't stand in the way of those who still want to save Sephiroth from himself.

Cloud fuckin' Strife, man. A character who is continuously full of surprises. And I love him for it.

[thetableshavetabled]

I saw a comment u made on another post about andrew drugging neil and I thought one thing u said was rlly interesting -

it was about Roland's and andrews relationship, I'm paraphrasing but I think u said something like Roland wouldn't get the 'yes or no' that Neil does because andrew 1) doesn't rlly care about Roland personally & 2) Andrew has no promise to protect Roland

I agree completely, but I've never seen anybody else say it! Andrew often gets portrayed by fans like he would always ask for consent this way, and I never rlly agreed. I don't think he would ignore Roland telling him to stop or anything, but I don't think he'd be considerate or careful like he is with neil.

If u have anymore thoughts on their relationship or andrew or roland in general, I'd love to hear it :)

Thanks for giving me an excuse to dig into this! To talk about Roland I first want to talk about the fandom's misconceptions of Andrew.

The way some fans try to retroactively frame Andrew's handling of Neil as a universal consent practice completely misses why it exists specifically with Neil. This comes up especially now that AFTG has reached platforms like TikTok, where I often see claims like "Andrew wouldn't have drugged people, he cares about consent" or the Allison incident or even, most insane to me, how Andrew shouldn't have kissed Neil that first time on the rooftop without asking first. These interpretations fundamentally misunderstand Andrew's character.

Frankly, I don't understand why you would bother to advcate that a character is acting out of character in the canon material. That just means you don't like the character, which is fine. "The monsters were never redeemed" (which was the original post where I left my comment) is much more textually accurate and a much better take than trying to sanitize Andrew's actions.

Understanding why Andrew and the other Monsters act as they do isn't the same as justifying their actions and people should be a lot more comfortabe enjoying morally gray characters, or, even better, just admit you don't like them. Fans do that with Kevin, Aaron and Nicky all the time, but with Andrew they struggle because they love this cute little gay ship with their soft kisses and touch him and die trope. The desire to ship Andreil seems to create this pressure to soften and force Andrew into a romance booktok mold when the real beauty of their relationship lies in how they accept each other's sharp edges and scars.

Take Andrew drugging Neil, for instance. We can understand the strategic reasoning (keeping Neil from running, maintaining control, protecting Kevin) while still recognizing it as a violation. The same goes for his violence toward Allison or his blowout at Katelyn or how he treats Aaron. Understanding that these actions stem from Andrew's trauma, his protection mechanisms, and his "nothing" philosophy doesn't require us to retroactively frame them as morally acceptable.

We are repeatedly shown that Andrew is not a character who cares about others' boundaries. From the moment we meet him and right until the end he shows this. Andrew is not a good person, and he is not mentally well. He's complex, traumatized, and his actions make sense within his characterization, even when, or maybe especially when they're morally questionable.

This brings us to Roland. With Roland, Andrew has a pragmatic arrangement that lets him focus on his own needs without managing someone else's trauma or emotions. Their dynamic works because:

Roland is experienced and emotionally self-sufficient.

Andrew doesn't have to manage his emotional state or trauma responses.

There's an established history that makes Roland a "safe" option.

Neil was always going to be different. The combination of Andrew's promise to protect him, Neil's extensive trauma history, and his complete inexperience with intimacy shattered every one of Andrew's patterns. Where others fit into clear categories - threat, asset, occasional outlet - Neil defied classification from the beginning. With Roland, it's pragmatic: they both know what they want and can handle themselves accordingly. With Neil's inexperience and extensive trauma and the deepness of the relationship it shakes up everything. If Roland had shown the kind of ambiguous consent that Neil does on the rooftop Andrew would never have pushed through or done anything but stop immediately, but he wouldn't have worked through it either. He would just simply not have approached Roland again.

It is less about "yes or no" even though i initally used that phrase and most about "I won't be like them. I won't let you let me be." It exists specifically because of Neil's circumstances and Andrew's promise to protect him. It's not a universal approach to consent, it's about their unique dynamic and mutual understanding of trauma.

This ties into a larger discussion of how Andrew sometimes gets "fanon-ized" in ways that smooth over his complexities and contradictions. He is not someone who is conventionally "good" or mentally well, but whose actions make sense within his own internal logic and experiences. The Andrew who shows careful consideration for Neil's boundaries, who gets in the shower fully clothed, who asks 'yes or no', is the same Andrew who drugged Neil, nearly stabbed Nicky, and almost killed Allison. Not to mention driving under the influence and, of course, literal manslaughter.

This is not to say Andrew doesn't evolve as a character, of course, but not in a conventional redemptive way. Without turning this into a full character analysis I will sum it up like this: Andrew's character arc is about him going from nothing to something.

[thedaythatwas]

something I appreciate about akechi as a character is that he never seems to think hmm, maybe I should emotionally distance myself from joker, because being invested in him could end up being bad for me when I need to kill him. the vengeance-oriented character goro is made out to be at first glance ought to think like this, but NO! goro akechi is NOT (just) that guy!

from the beginning, akechi goes above and beyond the minimum requirements of getting intel on joker and gaining his trust. he says, I’ll go the extra mile! I’m going to follow him around, inside and outside the metaverse. we’re going to talk about my dead mom. I’m going to insist that we’re RIVALS! I’ll spend so long thinking about all the reasons I hate him that it’ll become obvious to everyone around me— even joker’s (not a) cat— that what I feel isn’t really hate but something much more complex. obviously, this will make killing him that much more gratifying, because our lives are now intertwined! HA! take that joker! I WIN!

I believe this… interesting… thought process has something to do with akechi’s central motivation being more than just a desire for vengeance. he also desperately craves approval and recognition. akechi is not actually all that pragmatic. he’s highly driven by emotion, sometimes at the cost of logic (I mean… his revenge plot isn’t all that mature or well-thought through. it’s basically suicidal).

this considered, it seems that becoming akiren’s rival would be second nature to goro. it gives him a veritable cornucopia of things he craves. winning their “game” allows him to feel recognized for his worth. just playing it gives him opportunities to feel seen and known. being a rival is addictive. he gets the chance to embrace the anger he cultivates towards akiren and the rush of putting him at the center of his thoughts. their rivalry is by far the most intimate relationship akechi has. and so, he gets more and more tangled up with joker— and in his feelings about joker— regardless of any risk that poses to his plans. distancing himself would go against goro’s every instinct.

being akiren’s rival is tied to akechi’s vengeance, but somewhere along the line, “besting joker” evolves to be about more than plotting against shido. this is probably for similar reasons as to why akechi’s desire for vengeance against his father was never purely about “vengeance” at all.

of course, this comes with the pesky, entirely predictable side effect of akechi getting a bit obsessed. oh well! it doesn’t end up stopping him from trying to carry out his order to kill akiren.

regardless of how events actually unfold, akechi’s feelings are a clean-cut liability to his revenge plot. a rational character would probably want to avoid such an obvious crack in his armor. this to say, as intelligent as akechi is, he’s not really all that rational. there’s a difference! he’s not who he appears to be at first glance, or even second or third glance. he’s not the detective prince, or an assassin with tunnel vision for vengeance, or even just plain angry. akechi wants to be needed, and he’ll do anything to chase that feeling.

so yeah, it would’ve been nice if he had found a homoerotic rival before the shido revenge plot debacle happened! alas.

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL TALKING ABOUT AEMOND TARGARYEN IN EPISODE 4 FOR NUEVA MUJER MAGAZINE.

(video of the interview comes out this week)

AEMOND, AT THIS POINT, IS THE MOST INTERESTING AND COMPLEX CHARACTER IN THE ENTIRE SHOW. AT THIS POINT IN YOUR HISTORY, WHAT ARE YOUR INTERESTS?

"I love exploring the dark side of Aemond and delving deeper into his vulnerability."

"At the end of season 1, with his dragon, Vhagar, he knows he's made a mistake and lets his emotions get the best of him."

"It's good to see that feeling again and it breaks down and takes away that one-dimensionality: there's something more underlying beneath the surface that, in part, motivates it."

IT IS CLEAR THAT AFTER WHAT HAPPENED, A CONFRONTATION BETWEEN AEMOND AND DAEMON IS GOING TO HAPPEN. WHAT CAN YOU TELL US ABOUT THAT?

"Sure, but at what cost? Everyone saw the damage the three dragons did in the battle."

"After that moment, all of Westeros already knows what it is to fight with dragons and what they can do."

"Now, with Aemond and Daemon, if they sat together in a room, any item in it would be a deadly weapon."

HOW DO YOU DEFINE THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN AEMOND AND AEGON? IT IS VERY CLEAR THAT AEMOND IS INFINITELY SUPERIOR THAN HIS BROTHER AND HE KNOWS IT.

"Yes, I think he has always seen Aegon as someone who is inferior to him."

"He feels like he doesn't have the drive to be a king and the perseverance to be a leader."

"While Aemond was training with the sword and studying with the masters, his brother was probably in some Flea Bed brothel squandering his inheritance."

"So Aemond, although he was the second son, always felt that he should have been treated as the first and always prepared himself for that."

"He also feels that he would probably make a better king than Aegon."

"He hates his brother, but he loves him at the same time, because he is his brother."

"They share a heritage."

"He wants to love him, but Aegon gives her plenty of reasons not to."

BUT DID AEMOND WANT TO KILL AEGON?

"When we are in the battle scene, and when Vhagar attacks Aegon and Rhaenys, the question arises as to whether he intentionally tried to hurt his brother, or if he was in his way or if he was just collateral damage."

"I think it goes back to the previous answer: I think of them as Michael and Fredo Corleone, at the time when the latter betrayed his brother and plotted against him."

"This is because although they hate their enemies, there is a deeper hatred towards someone who should protect and care for you."

"And Aegon never did that. In fact, he led the bullying. Aemond “forgives”, but never forgets."

NOW THAT YOU'VE ALSO RECORDED 'THE LAST KINGDOM', AND, COMPARED TO YOUR CHARACTER, OSFERTH, AEMOND TARGARYEN IS CRUEL AND RITLESS. WHERE DID YOU GET INSPIRED FROM TO INTERPRET IT?

"It's interesting that you mention Osferth, because in many ways he is the antithesis of Aemond, in the sense that they are children of royalty who were marginalized and have been treated unfairly by their brothers."

"Aemond himself, because he has been sidelined, has a lot to prove."

"He is the second son who will inherit nothing and recognizes that whatever he wants in this life he will have to go out and get it himself, by hook or by crook."

"He has tremendous power in Vhagar."

"And, of course, he recognizes that he can do things that no one else in the kingdom can do."

"And that's why he sees it as a call to greatness, to write his name in the history books."

AEMOND IMPOSES FEAR. IT HAS A DANGEROUS AURA. HOW DO YOU TRANSMIT THAT SENSATION TO THE SPECTATOR, THAT SOMETHING TERRIBLE CAN HAPPEN TO SOMEONE LIKE THIS IN A PLACE?

"I think that in the first four episodes, Aemond is still not very much at the center of the conflict."

"You see it with Criston Cole plotting and trying to manipulate the council because they know war is inevitable."

"Now: Shakespeare said the eyes are the windows to the soul, but in Aemond's case, what does it mean to have one and the other a safari? Do you see less of his soul? There is silence."

"A lot of silence on your part and in those moments you say a lot without saying anything."

"I love those moments, because as a viewer, you can project your own interpretation on the character about what is happening through his or her gaze."

BY THE WAY, WHAT IS THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN AEMOND AND ALICENT?

"Someone asked me if I thought Aemond had problems with his mother and I don't think so: he just wanted to be loved by her a little more."

"He is an empty child and children need that unconditional love to be balanced beings and develop a vision accordingly."

"And since he never had that, he had to look for solutions in other beings. In Vhagar. At Mrs. Sylvie, from the brothel."

"Children need to be loved unconditionally: if a child is not embraced by the village, they will hug them to feel their warmth and seek validation through other means."

"In Aemond's case, it's war."

"And of course, if he finds out what Cole, his best friend, has been doing with his mother, I don't know how he would take it."

HE'S A PRETTY BROKEN CHARACTER. HOW DID YOU EXPLORE THAT?

"That's one of the most fascinating aspects of playing him."

"Because beyond that image that has been created, he is in a very different physical and psychological place from what we saw last season."

"He has cultivated this facade - almost homage - inspired by Daemon Targaryen."

"Now, there is a movie called 'Fire vs. Fire' starring Robert De Niro where he has a code to protect himself."

"Aemond has something similar."

"That's why it's so easy for him to reject the madame in episode 3, because he knows that in her world there is no place for love, since it is a weakness."

"He has to be seen as this 'Terminator' who scares everyone and is all-powerful."

"So it's interesting to see what's behind all of that, to see this abandoned boy who is still there."

DO YOU THINK THAT AFTER THIS BATTLE HE WILL HAVE SOME KIND OF GUILT LIKE WHAT HAPPENED TO LUKE AND ARRAX?

"He knows that there is no turning point this time."

"What happened with Luke and Arrax, he knows was a mistake."

"It wasn't his intention."

"He let his emotions get the best of him and lost control of his dragon."

"Here he is in complete control and knows what the dragons can do."

"In episode 5 you will see all the consequences of this."

[hannahbarberra162]

Petrichor (Alpha Luffy x GN Beta Reader)

This is an apology OS for being too horny on main (I'm not sorry). It moves a little fast but this is kind of how Luffy recruited the rest of the crew, so I thought it fit.

SFW, ~3.7k, OS, Luffy x GN Reader

TW: none, Luffy does a smooch <3

~

“You smell like dirt,” an Alpha said, standing in front of your face. He was wearing a straw hat and an open red shirt and staring at you intently. He and a friend were standing in front of your beachfront stall after strolling down the boardwalk. His friend was a Beta like you, wearing overalls and a bandanna on his head. You thought you recognized him from somewhere but you weren’t sure exactly where. Based on what he’d told you, you weren’t sure you wanted to know him, either.

“That’s rude,” you stated, already turning away from him. You were working so you couldn’t rip him a new one but you wanted to. Some Alphas made it a hobby to be assholes to Betas, maybe this guy was like that. Maybe he was bored, maybe he was a dick, maybe it was the hot weather - you didn’t care why he was being nasty. It was a slow day at the kite store, the dead, stagnant air not helping sales along the beach in the slightest. You worked along the boardwalk, trying to sell kites to kids and their parents for a fun day time activity. Sometimes you did kite flying competitions if there was money as a prize but mostly you liked to make your hourly and spend time on your own hobbies.

“Nah, it’s my favorite smell. Dirt after the rain. You smell like the forest after a big morning rain clears the clouds,” he said, taking a big whiff near you and giving you a bright smile. You were a little weirded out - you were a Beta and it was known that Betas didn’t have strong scents. No one had ever commented on your scent before, much less to say that they liked it. One time when you were a kid a friend came over and said your house smelled like soup, but you didn’t think that counted.

“So whatcha doin’?” the Alpha asked you, his big eyes staring at you over the counter.

“Working?” you replied, more of a question than a statement. 

“Is it fun?” he continued, now reaching for a kite’s tail with his fingers. Was this Alpha for real? Was he teasing you?

“No? That’s why it’s called work and not ‘fun-time,” you replied, hoping your coworker wouldn’t overhear you. Not that it would be a surprise, you didn’t think your boss could require you to have fun on the job. Still, customer service was always number one (or whatever).

“I don’t like working. I tried it once at a restaurant with Sanji and it was terrible,” he stated, sticking out his tongue like he’d tasted something bitter. You laughed despite his seriousness. What the hell was he talking about?

“Yeah, I get it. But gotta make money, right?”

“We just find treasure, it’s easier that way,” he said, his arms extending like rubber to touch the top of a kite high up on the wall. Ah! That was where you recognized him from. You had liked his charming smile on his wanted poster, he looked more like he was on a camping trip than a wanted man from his countenance.

“You’re Monkey D. Luffy, the pirate,” you stated, watching as his friend smacked his hands from touching the kite too much. 

“Yeah, that’s me! I like your kites,” Luffy said, continuing to touch the most expensive piece in the store. It was a replica of the Oro Jackson but in kite form, it would sail through the skies beautifully when the weather was right. And with your devil fruit power, you could make the weather right whenever you wanted. You ate the Wind Wind Fruit, giving you the ability to control, and turn into, the wind. You tried not to use it much in public since you didn’t want to be forcibly taken as someone’s private bellows or used by the Marines to propel their warships.

“Ah, thanks. I make most of the complex ones here,” you replied. There were regular kites, dragons, birds, boxes, diamonds, the regular kind that kids and adults like to buy but you made the one of a kind kites in the shop. You'd made replicas of a lot of famous pirate ships - you made the Oro Jackson, Moby Dick, Red Force, Queen Mama Chanter, Victoria Punk, Polar Tang, the Numancia Flamingo, a whole bunch of Marine ships and a few others belonging to up and coming pirates. When you were hired at the store you didn’t have much to do when it wasn't busy so you started making them to pass time. They brought people to the store and since you understood the wind so well it wasn’t that difficult for you to make them.

“I think I actually made your old ship,” you said, picking yourself off your forearms from leaning over the counter.

“Whaaaaa - really?! You make these?!” Luffy exclaimed, his hands on his cheeks in shock. The pirate with him was now paying attention to you after looking at some of the kite string for sale.

“Yeah, the ‘Going Merry,’ right?” you asked, looking through the inventory behind the small counter.

“Merry!” the other pirate sobbed as you brought out the kite, reaching over the counter to hold it. Whatever, that one wasn’t worth much anymore as the Strawhats had a new ship made by Franky. 

“You can have it, no one’s gonna buy that,” you said, offering the pirates their own kite.

“WHOA REALLY?! USOPP DID YOU HEAR THAT?” Luffy asked, his mouth hanging open. 

“How do I fly it? There’s lot of strings and attachments. And wait, why won’t anyone buy it? The Merry was a great ship!” Usopp accused, pointing a finger at you.

“Eh, it’s nothing to do with the ship -customers are fickle. They’ll want a model of your current ship now that you’ve got a new one. Besides, people don’t usually buy my kites, they’re for show and competitions. They’re too expensive for people to mess around with,” you explained. Usopp was holding the Merry kite like it was spun from glass.

“I can show you how to fly it, I’m gonna be on my lunch break in a few minutes anyway,” you offered. From everything you’d ever heard, the Strawhat pirates were a small and rather nice bunch. They didn’t steal people or money from islands and you hadn’t heard of them killing anyone either. Besides, so few people cared about your kites or asked how to fly them it would be fun to finally teach someone the right way to do it. And if there was any trouble, you’d be able to whisk yourself away no matter how strong they were.

“How? There’s no wind today,” Luffy mused, his head tilted to the side like a dog. He really was cute, you thought. He was exactly your type - cute, sweet, strong, and funny. If he wasn’t going to be leaving soon you would have tried to shoot your shot, even if he was an Alpha. A lot of Alphas would fuck around with Betas until someone better showed up and as much as you didn’t like to think of yourself as a second rate option, that was the way things were.

“I’m sure it will be picking up soon,” you replied enigmatically. 

“Hey Anna, I’m going to lunch. Be back later,” you yelled at your coworker, who was staring at a telesnail.

“Yeah,” she replied, not even sparing you a glance. Whatever, you’d done your due diligence. Taking the kite back from Usopp, you folded it quickly and put it under your arm.

“Come on, let’s go to the cliffs, there’s more wind there,” you explained, beckoning to Usopp and Luffy. Luffy’s face broke into a wide grin as he linked his arm in your own. You’d never been so close to an Alpha before, he smelled like salt and sunshine and a hint of meat.

“Let’s go!” he yelled, pumping his fist in the air. It felt like the air was charged with excitement, like fun was bubbling up from the ether.

It was a little awkward to walk linked arm in arm with an Alpha so you kept your face down. As you passed all the other shops on the boardwalk, you noticed Omegas preening and pushing their breasts forward to get the attention of the Alpha. It wasn’t their fault, Alphas and Omegas were more beholden to their biology than Betas. They were going to want him and he was going to want them, even if just for a night. Even you as a Beta could tell he was incredibly strong so you were sure they were being pushed by their pheromones to present for him.

“You can look if you want,” you muttered to Luffy. He looked around at the other stalls with confusion.

“Are there other kite stores? Do they have the Merry too?” He asked with a frown.

“What? No, there's no other kite stores. The Omegas, you know, you can look. I uh….I'm sure you want to,” you mumbled.

“Do they make fancy kites too?”

“No - wha- no, only I make unique kites on the island. But they're, yanno, Omegas. And you're an unclaimed Alpha. So like, I get it. You can go talk to them or sniff them or whatever.” Your ego would take a hit but you did it to yourself - you knew how the world worked and it wasn’t his fault if you forgot your place.

“I don't wanna talk to them. I wanna keep talking to you. Besides, none of them smell as good as you do. They smell like flowers ‘n food but none of em smell like dirt,” he said with sincerity. You were a little taken aback, no Alpha gave up talking to Omegas for a Beta, no matter what kind of kites they made. Still, you steeled your heart for the inevitable time when you'd be left on the side of the road for an Omega. It was bound to happen, you had to keep reminding yourself. 

Taking the craggly path up to the cliffs, you and Luffy and Usopp chatted, mostly about kites and kite design. They were more interested than you expected, but you enjoyed the conversation anyway. Reaching the summit, the wind has picked up a little bit not much.

“Are we gonna have enough wind to fly this thing? It's pretty heavy,” mused Usopp.

“I think it'll work out,” you replied, already creating a stronger gust of wind. You tried to do it inconspicuously, like the wind had just picked up on its own. The kite fluttered in the wind as the waves below crashed into the rocky cliffs. It was a beautiful day, you could see for miles out into the ocean. 

“Oh hey, isn’t that your new ship? The 1,000 Sunny?” you asked, squinting into the distance. With the huge lion’s head on the mast it was instantly recognizable. The design would make a good kite too, you thought.

“Yeah! HI SUNNY!” Luffy yelled, waving his arms wildly at the inanimate ship in the distance. He was a little strange but you found him charming. You'd met plenty of alpha-holes but no one ever like him before.

“So how does this work? I see the main string but how do you -?” Usopp questioned, motioning for you to hand him the kite. Snapping out of your thoughts about the Alpha, you focused back on Usopp. 

“Right, uh. Ok. So, it's different from other, simpler kites, you need to use both hands and control the other strings with your fingers and even with your feet if you want to waggle the ship in the air,” you began to explain, unfolding the kite in your hands. You explained by flying the kite and illustrating in real time. Usopp was a quick study, he understood fairly easily what he had to do to get the kite to fly. And you were subtly giving the exact kinds of breezes that would make the kite soar with ease.

“See? You’re a natural,” you said to Usopp. He flushed a little but otherwise kept concentrating on keeping the Merry in the sky. You used your power to make the ship bob in the air, mimicking its motions on the water.

“Like I said, you guys can keep it. I’ll make another one of the Sunny sometime,” you said, about ready to put a cap on this experience. It was silly and cute and you’d fantasize over the Alpha that got away but ultimately it was time to get going back to work and back to reality.

“Too bad we’re not kites,” Luffy said wistfully, watching the kite soar in the sky. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, interested again. 

“Well, maybe I could sail like that,” Luffy started to say while rubbing his chin.

“DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!” Usopp said, bonking Luffy on the head. Betas didn’t usually strike at Alphas and live but you were starting to realize there wasn’t anything usual about Luffy.

“I mean….we could,” you started, kicking a rock off the cliff in front of you. “I do happen to have a paraglider that I built up here -”

“YES!” Luffy yelled with a huge smile.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Usopp said, crossing his arms in front of his torso in the shape of an X.

“But it needs two people by weight and the two of you wouldn’t know how to maneuver it together -”

“I have a severe case of paraglider-itis,” Usopp said quickly, backing away from the cliff. “You guys can do what you want but I’m going to stay on land….uh, I think I hear Franky calling my name,” he stammered, already running along the path back to town with the Merry kite tucked safely under his arm.

“Let’s do it!!” Luffy yelled, letting his hat hang off his neck. You were starting to get excited too - no one else had ever wanted to be your second, saying it was too dangerous or that you’d fall to your deaths off the cliffs. You strongly suspected you wouldn’t, you were fairly sure your paraglider would work. And if not, well, you could turn into the wind and you’d be fine. Luffy seemed durable, he would probably make it out alive as well. 

“Heeheehee, OK! I’ll go get it, stay here!” you said as the wind turned stronger with you0r excitement. You tried to calm down but were too happy to finally have someone else to test your paraglider with. 

About twenty minutes later, you’d gotten the paraglider up and ready to go. You’d strapped yourself into it

“So, it’s a giant kite?” Luffy asked as you handed him his harness.

“More or less,” you said, shrugging. “Do you want me to explain how it works?” you asked Luffy, who was struggling with the straps.

“Nah. I don’t really care,” he said, still stuck in the straps. He groaned and tried again before throwing the whole thing down.

“Can’t we just use my body for this? I don’t wanna wear that thing. Feels too tight,” he complained, kicking the harness with a sandaled foot.

“Use your body…?”

And so, with a surprisingly little amount of convincing from Luffy, you’d detached from your paraglider. He’d made his body into roughly the same shape as the sail and was holding you in his arms and had his legs looped around you for good measure.

“If you drop me, I’ll kill you,” you said, giving him the harshest glare you could. You wouldn’t die if he dropped you but he didn’t know that. 

“Stop talking and let’s go,” he whined, getting impatient.

“Alright, I’m gonna run and jump off the cliff, OK? And the wind will do the rest. Here! We! Go!” you yelled as you ran as fast as you could off the cliff. Using your fruit, you caused an updraft to pick up Luffy so you soared through the air. Your laughter was ringing through the cliffs towards the sea as you enjoyed the ride. You’d been flying for a little while in your Logia form but it was more fun to stay in your physical body for rides like this. Luffy was laughing too, the two of you whooping and cheering when you made the wind take him higher or push him faster. 

All too soon, you were headed towards the deck of the Sunny. With your power you could have probably kept Luffy in the air longer but it had to look kind of natural to ensure you didn’t arouse suspicion. You wanted to land gracefully on the deck and braced your legs for a landing but Luffy snapped back to his regular form earlier than you anticipated, making the two of you tumble one on top of each other until you hit the main mast of the ship. You groaned as the wood from the deck bit into your side but it was Luffy who took most of the hit from the fall.

“Ow, that didn’t go as planned -”

“We can practice so that next time we won’t crash -” Luffy interrupted, excited as ever. Luffy was laying on top of you smiling as you laid on your back. Now that you were up close and personal, you could smell his delicious scent and had the urge to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Instead you tried to dislodge him from on top of you by pushing him off. But Luffy was a lot heavier than he looked and you weren’t able to move him an inch.

“I wanna kiss you,” Luffy said, apropos of nothing. You blinked.

“You don’t mean that,” you replied, unsure of how to leave with your pride still intact.

“I do. I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone before but I wanna try it with you,” he continued, now resting his head on your chest.

“I think you should find someone better for that,” you said, trying to wiggle away. Luffy looked at you seriously for the first time since you’d met, the intensity making you shiver.

“There’s no one better. No one else knows how to fly me like a kite,” he said, like that made complete sense.

“Yeah but you're an Alpha and I'm just a Beta. It doesn't - you'll change your mind you'll see,” you said with a little more sadness in your voice than you anticipated

“I told you. I don’t care about some Omega somewhere. I wanna kiss you,” Luffy said, staring into your eyes. You blushed, it sounded exactly like the lines in the romance novels you indulged in secretly, the ones where Alphas forewent their designations in favor of love with a Beta. Even though they were popular reads, you’d never heard of it actually happening in real life.

“I wanna know if you taste like dirt too,” he said, his hands now holding you by your face. 

“Uh-? Is that your favorite flavor?” This was by far the strangest prelude to a kiss that you’d ever had but then again, watching a man fly down the cliffs using his own body wasn’t something you saw before either.

“Shishishishi, how'd you know? Good dirt is hard to find,” he laughed into your face. He leaned in so close you could practically feel his eyelashes on your cheek. What the hell, you thought.  You closed the gap for a small kiss, hesitant in case you misread his cues. His eyebrows hiked but after a moment he kissed you back. There wasn’t any tongue and he didn’t open his mouth, but he laughed into yours which made your heart skip a beat. A light wind blew his messy hair out of his face as he pulled away, pushing himself up to his elbows.

“That was great! Come with me and join my crew and we can keep kissing. You’re already on the ship, why not?” Luffy exclaimed, hauling you off the ground and into a bear hug. You didn’t quite follow his reasoning but it was flattering to hear it all the same.

“I don’t think you need a kite maker for a pirate crew,” you said dryly, noting the various elements of their ship from your slightly higher vantage point. Adding a tangerine grove to the deck of a kite would make an interesting challenge. 

“But I like the kites! And besides, you control the wind. That’s really useful,” he stated. Your emotions went into overdrive - how did he know? Was he going to keep you on the ship to power their sails? You knew you shouldn’t have trusted a wanted pirate, especially not an Alpha who pretended to be so nice to someone like you to ensnare you.

“N-no, that’s not true -” you stated as the wind started whipping the two of you, nearly taking the straw hat off his head. 

“Yes it is. The wind changes with your emotions, you need more practice. But you can practice with me,” he replied, crossing his arms with a smile. You bit your lip, your cover was blown. You could deny it but the fact that the wind was increasing moment by moment wasn’t helping your case. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. It kind of worked, the wind dying back down to a pleasant breeze.

“Besides, I wanna keep kissing you and tasting your dirt. That’s another good reason for you to come along with us,” he said with no shame whatsoever. 

“And what if I wanted to leave?” you said, still unsure about the whirlwind of events unfolding before you. Luffy pouted.

“If you wanna leave and be a master kite maker I won’t stop you from achieving your dream. But I’d be sad. I want you here with me,” he whined at you. You laughed and kissed his cheek.

“No tellin’ where the wind might blow. So, sure why not? But can I at least go get some of my stuff before we take off?”

[gladiaralla]

Supernovae

Mr. Fantastic - Reed Richards x fem!reader (Prof! x student)

I’m already obsessed with Pedro as Reed Richards so I made this. It’s just a one shot, nothing big. (For now)

Warning / Reminder: I'm not studying physics, but educational science and psychology. So I have no idea about this subject. Therefore I apologize in advance if it doesn’t make much sense.

“This interaction between highly energetic particles and the atmosphere is extremely complex, and accurate predictions require even greater complexity. They come from the sun, from supernovae, and from more indeterminate processes. Do you know which processes and mechanisms I’m talking about?”

Reed Richards stopped in the middle of his lecture, leaving the open question hanging in the room. He watched the flickering eyes and silent corners until one of the students began to speak up.

“The sun could produce such energy, right?”

A young man with large glasses and freckles covering his round face stared at Mr. Richards. He was standing before his large, scribbled blackboard, waiting for further pronouncements. He ran his fingers over the unused papers and crumpled the dust of the wooden-colored table beneath his sharp, rough fingertips. His other hand rested behind his back. He looked out over the sea of clueless, tense and young faces. Among them was a young woman who knew how to fight her way through the ambitious minds of the striving. (Y/N)

His scrutinizing gaze met her delicately raised hand and he lowered his head to grant her permission to speak.

“Mr. Richards, I believe that supernovae generate radiation through expanding shock waves.”

He smiled faintly, nodded and began slowly walking again in front of the staring mass.

“Faith is not a part of our science, Miss (L/N), but you do recognize the approach,” his gravelly voice began to fill the room, and young Ron Tugmann looked at the now-smiling (Y/N), who turned back to her sketch and continued to refine it with the smudged lead of her pencil.

“Gamma rays. Extreme explosions are released through their bursts. They accelerate these particles.”

The crowd gasped and winced at the description, whispering afterward about this procedure. “Imagine sitting in a dark room, and suddenly, a light explodes with such intensity, only for the darkness to return.”

The explanation resonated with most, though perhaps not with (Y/N). She didn’t clap at the end of the lecture and instead continued with her drawing.

“My physicist, will you accompany me?” teased the brown-haired classmate beside her, bowing mischievously in front of the young woman. “Don’t be silly, Ron,” she snapped, tucking her papers under her arm while he defensively raised his hands, a playful smirk on his face.

She padded down the stairs, and he followed her almost insistently, until he tapped her impatiently on the shoulder. She gasped, fuming, and turned to face him, showing her irritation at his manner. “I’m going to talk to Mr. Richards. Another time.”Her response was brief but accepted with tolerance from Ron as he raced up the stairs toward the exit of the restored building.

Reed Richards gathered his materials and files, along with his many foundations, and stored them in a cupboard. His white shirt clung tightly to his rather slender figure. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, revealing the dark lines on his face, and the bones of his cheekbones seemed almost to want to cut through his skin. Above them, his eyes were glassy and accentuated by dark rings. It seemed as if he hadn’t found much sleep in recent days. The edges clung to the papers he embraced against his chest.

He stared at her, waiting for the clearing of her throat, which still lingered on her tongue.

“Can I help you, Miss (L/N)?” he asked in a soothing, quiet voice, which barely reached her. She turned her attention to the white chalk writings on the blackboard until he turned as well. “I hope I haven’t frightened you with my theories,” he said with a somewhat amused smile, though (Y/N) shook her head, keeping her posture straight to hide the many questions she had.

“No, I just wanted to inquire about the work I submitted to you.”

He raised his eyebrows, and the sharp, rigid features of his face fell upon the pile of papers in front of him. “Indeed. I’ve had to read through them all night and I was quite surprised by your phrasing,” he began, leaning against the edge of his desk as his gaze fell through the black strands of his hair. He didn’t show any emotions until the girl started clearing her throat. “In what way were you surprised?” She tightened her grip on her papers, stepping back as he crossed his legs in front of her, his hands intertwining in the pockets of his black pants. She could almost hear the rhythmic ticking of his watch against his thin wrist in the ensuing, suffocating silence.

“Your theories are… interesting, but only in theory,” he remarked roughly, tilting his head to study her features.

“Is that good or bad in your eyes? I know it’s madness… probably unthinkable…” her voice trailed off as she tried to continue. The laugh he gave her now revealed his sharp teeth before it faded.

“If thinking the unthinkable is madness, then I’m the craziest thinker there has ever been.” She lowered her head, and with hollow cheeks, she gazed at the smooth floor beneath her feet. She could barely suppress the urge to smile. He tilted his head, briefly stroked his beard beneath his nose, and clicked his tongue. “You seem to have many questions, don’t you? I often see you alone with all those books on campus,” he coughed lightly and smiled at the girl in front of him.

She shrugged, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, I like to retreat and read,” she explained, but she couldn’t get any more words out. He raised his hand and shook his head. “Those who don’t read, don’t learn,” he replied almost seriously, taking a step closer to (Y/N).

As he noticed that she couldn’t find any words, he broke the silence. “When I was a student, I didn’t know people, only every book in the library.”

(Y/N) smiled, recognizing herself in his story, and pressed her papers against her chest as if to hide the fluttering inside. He reached forward, extended his arm and pulled the paper down to see what it contained. It wasn’t formulas, but a drawing. He tilted his head, and the corner of his mouth twitched. Immediately, she wanted to justify herself.

He smiled and looked her deep in the eyes. (Y/N) swallowed and didn’t know where to look. Her cheeks turned a deep red. Reed Richards slowly released the paper, but his gaze lingered for a moment before he straightened up. The faint smile on his lips remained, but his gaze became critical, almost as if searching for an explanation on her face.

“You have an unusual talent, Miss (L/N),” he said finally, crossing his arms over his chest.(Y/N) gently pulled the drawing back and let her gaze briefly drift to the side. “It’s just a habit. I understand things better when I visualize them.”

He nodded slowly, as if considering this thought. “Most of my students think in formulas, not in pictures.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “Is that a compliment, Professor?”

A soft laugh escaped his throat. “Call it what you want.”

For a moment, they stood there, and Richards continued to observe her until he broke the silence again.

“Back to your work.”

(Y/N) quickly nodded and straightened up.

He leaned lightly against his desk again, his shirt tightening across his shoulders as he picked up one of his notes. “It’s not criticizable. Just… hypothetical. Your idea that cosmic radiation might be influenced by previously unknown interactions is fascinating. But we lack evidence. You’re operating in the realm of speculation.”

“Every theory was once speculation,” (Y/N) replied. Again, that amused gleam appeared in his otherwise tired eyes. “I knew you’d say that.”

A warm feeling spread in her chest, but she hid it behind a neutral nod.

"Am I that predictable, Professor?" (Y/N) asked and took a small step forward.

She smelled the expensive perfume he had put on and swallowed hard. She was so enthusiastic about him and his work. He always knew what he was saying, what impact it had and he always knew the answers to all the questions students asked. He was a role model, probably even more. She would at least have liked to see more in him, but she knew that reality would not allow it. If anyone was aware of reality, it was the scientists. She realized that she had been lost in her thoughts for a long time and shook her head. He hadn't said anything. Not a word. He had only observed her. She didn't know what he was thinking, but he was well aware of what she was thinking.

"Miss (L/N), I think you still have a lecture, don't you?" he broke the strange spell and she remained silent. She knew what he wanted. Distance. What had she expected?

"Of course," (Y/N) replied dryly and walked past him, out the door.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Ellen’s agency and her connection to Count Orlok in “Nosferatu” (2024)

“Someone said to me in a interview the other day, well, isn’t Ellen like this victim? How is it like to play this victimized character? And I was like, well, I don’t think she’s a victim at all. Because she’s kind of calling the shots the entire time […] She has a great deal of agency in this story that I feel we haven’t seen in, you know, iterations of the past.” Lily-Rose Depp

Many are confused as to why Lily-Rose Depp says this, and even accuse her of not understanding her character nor the “complexities of victimhood”. A bit high on ourselves, are we?

The majority of the audience and mainstream media does not understand this film. At all. This is “Jennifer’s Body” (2009) all over again. Including the marketing. This film deals with references the general audience doesn’t recognize, and it will take years or even decades for the mainstream to actually realize what this story is about. And while the fanart coming out of this is beautiful, it should actually be the other way around (Ellen commanding Orlok). This story is also inspired by Serbian horror cult classic “Leptirica” (1973). Robert Eggers already shared his entire list of inspirations (2 books) and 8 movies. That has nothing to do with American Netflix, by the way, and “The Batman Returns” inspiration is merely aesthetic. You are all making comparisons with pop cultures vampires; when Orlok is a strigoi from Romanian folklore, and that’s his lore. He has nothing to do with “Interview with the Vampire” or whatever. Stop “americanizing” other people’s cultures. Robert Eggers subverted everything about 1922 “Nosferatu” and the “Dracula” novel by Bram Stoker. We are entering Balkan territory here, and European Paganism.

The occult themes are rooted on Pagan beliefs (the opposite to Victorian Christian society), and we have a lot of references to Aleister Crowley because he lived during the Victorian era. All the Şolomonari rituals we see in this film (and they are three, and I’ll talk about them here) are Sex Magick rituals based on Crowley and Paganism. The core themes here are sex and death, and female sexuality repression and liberation. Robert Eggers wants “to stay through the lens of the 19th century” because he has no interest in doing “modern films”, and Historical Feminism is his thing. Orlok, himself, is not only a follower of Zalmoxis, owner of the secrets of immortality, he's also a worshipper of the Divine Feminine, the opposite to patriarchal and male pleasure centered Victorian society. But more on that later.

This film starts with Ellen performing Black Magic (necromancy); and this should tell you everything you need to know about her nature. Orlok’s spirit was in a limbo (“darkest pit”) and only by the power of her words (“enchantress”) she makes his soul return to his former body (dead and rotting since the late 16th century) and curses him to be a strigoi (that’s why he calls her “his affliction”, as in “sickness”, “plague”). As Ellen sexuality awakes (15 years old), so does Orlok (resurrection).

Ellen and Orlok Connection

Let’s talk sexual abuse (some of you favorite topic): did Orlok ever had "astral sex" with teenage Ellen? No, he only has sex with her at the end. And the story itself tells us this.

Everyone already decided that he did, including mainstream publications that trap Robert Eggers into calling Orlok a “disgusting abuser” (this is also the only interview where he call Orlok such a thing but he doesn’t even elaborate). This doesn’t validate anything; Eggers just doesn’t want to deal with backlash because mainstream media already made up their minds on what his story is about, and creators can’t afford to lose investment for their next projects.

If we take Herr Knock’s ritual into context, at the prologue, it’s Ellen masturbating. Because when Orlok does touch her (when he reveals himself), she has a seizure (metaphor for orgasm). Eggers established a difference here. In Freudian symbolism, gardens also represent the female sexual domain. And these lilacs are in full bloom; awakening sexuality and fertility. This is Ellen’s realm. Metaphorically being attacked by a demon because of Victorian views of female sexuality.

Ellen tells Orlok (in a very sexual tone) she felt him like a serpent in her body, he says it’s not him, but her nature (her sexuality); this implies Orlok never actually had any astral sex with her (as in penetrating her), and what she has been doing this whole time is masturbation: a huge taboo on Victorian society, and the ultimate sin, as Ellen’s father calls it when he finds her naked, and yes, masturbating.

Orlok was there watching and/or talking with her; as a presence really because he’s a haunting, as that’s how Robert Eggers describes him. Either way she was fantasizing about him (“your passion is bound to me” and she believes he took her as “his lover”). She tells Thomas “you could never please me as he could” because the purpose of masturbation is orgasm (which is what she associates Orlok with) and vaginal orgasms by penetration (alone) can be difficult for most women to achieve.

While on his way to Wisburg, Orlok says to Ellen: “Soon I will be no more a shadow to you. Your spirit was never enough. Soon our flesh shall embrace and we shall be as one”; which, again, implies he never had sex with her (“and we shall be as one” = finally, at last). He has only been a shadow (haunting) to her, until now; they have not yet been as “one” (sex). He also tells her, after she gives him her soul; “as our spirits are one, so too shall be our flesh”, which indicates he hasn’t touch her in that way (penetration) before. Which also explains why he is hyperventilating before actually having sex with her at the end; and he stands there, waiting for her consent.

His entire demeanor with the locket also indicates a profound longing and yearning. You all are taking Orlok saying he’s an “appetite” too literally, because he’s talking about his consumption of blood after Ellen accuses him of being a “villain to speak so” in answer to “you are not of human kind”. She’s pretty much saying: “you are one to talk, you are a evil vampire”. And he denies being evil, he’s “an appetite, more nothing”.

"And I shall taste of you" [he doesn't mean her blood, alone]

And Robert Eggers gave us a parallel with Thomas, where Orlok does behave like a sexual predator, and Thomas is his prey, completely at his mercy. With Ellen, he awaits her command, she’s in full control. These two scenes are meant to show the difference in Orlok’s behavior.

He also uses Thomas as his masturbation assistant (sexually assaults him) and as part of his Şolomonari Sex Magick ritual to annul his marriage to Ellen, spiritually. Thomas, being her husband and fresh out of their honeymoon, has her sexual signature on him: “your husband is lost to you” = “you are single now”.

"Your husband has signed his name, and covenanted you to my person for but a sack of gold. For gold he did absolve his nuptial bond."

With Ellen, at the end, it’s also a Şolomonari Sex Magick ritual to consummate their own wedding and to break Nosferatu curse, with her full consent: “and so the maiden fair did offer up her love unto the beast, and with him lay in close embrace until first cock crow, her willing sacrifice thus broke the curse and freed them from the plague of Nosferatu”.

And this is all according to her will because that’s how Magick works; they are both manifesting the breaking of his curse, and harvesting sexual power to do it, and the ritual ends with her orgasm, as it’s suppose to in Sex Magick devoted to the Divine Feminine. And in this scene, Orlok does have penetrative sex with Ellen because we can hear the penetration in the sound design. Thank you, Robert Eggers, for that detail. He really wants his audience to know penetrative sex is happening here. And this is connected with sexual energy, not only him drinking her blood: that's the willing sacrifice part, she's allowing him to kill her, as the dawn will kill him (setting their spirits free to be reunited in the spiritual realm as their covenant says).

When Orlok tells Ellen "we shall be as one”, she doesn’t have any seizure nor “hysteric spell”. She’s at the window. Waiting. Robert Eggers is giving us a lot of visual information about Ellen and Orlok’s connection.

Besides, Orlok is a strigoi, not a incubus (nor has Robert Eggers ever described him as such); strigoi have to be physically present in order to do things. And his scene with Thomas proves this. He made Knock drag him all the way to Transylvania to perform a Şolomonari Sex Magick ritual to divorce him from Ellen. Which indicates he can’t astral projecting himself to do this kind of stuff.

Robert Eggers also said that Ellen, unlike Anna, doesn’t conceal her sexual desires, which I find really interesting, because Ellen spends the entire story repressing her sexuality and nature (until she fully embraces it at the end); this implies all the moaning in on Ellen herself, and not Orlok actually doing things to her body (but more on that later). Because the prologue established that, when he touches her, she has a seizure (and this is the only time we see this happening). Von Franz exorcism doesn’t count because he was compelling her to speak what Orlok says to her.

Him asking her “remember how once we were? A moment. Remember?” is probably connected with the reincarnation themes in this story; and Romanian strigoi myths in general. This is a Gothic Folk Horror story.

Ellen also has premonitions (she knew Thomas would be sent away and later she confirms to Von Franz she has this gift). Orlok is a monster of her own creation (and she confirms this twice, to Von Franz and to Thomas). Her being an enchantress parallels Orlok himself who, according to the Nuns, was a “black enchanter” in life. These are their archetypes in the narrative: Ellen is the great Pagan priestess, and Orlok is the Pagan priest-shaman follower of Zalmoxis, the Dacian God of life and death.

Romanian folklore: strigoi showing up at their loved ones window, asking for entrance

Herr Knock had to set a whole room and perform a Şolomonari Sex Magick ritual (masturbation) just to talk to Orlok, Ellen doesn’t need any of that; her spiritual power is insane in this film.

And this scene tells the audience that Orlok has to be summoned for these communications to happen. He’s haunting Ellen because she wants him to haunt her. He’s exactly where she wants him to be. She controls their entire connection; she’s the one who calls out to him, always (not only at the prologue and at the end, which is what Lily-Rose Depp says in this interview). It was her spiritual power that put an end to their communication when she met Thomas (her socially acceptable sexuality). She has full control over everything that’s happening in this story.

Ellen’s communications with Orlok are very sexual in nature because it’s sexual energy that conjures him (like we see with Herr Knock). So, when she’s moaning she’s channeling her sexual energy to summon him to come to her. “He’s coming to him”, it’s her yearning for Orlok.

The maiden’s token was meant for Orlok; she knew Thomas would be sent to him, her hair smells like lilacs, and the next scene after Ellen makes the token is Knock’s ritual (Eggers is not even being subtle here).

Orlok knows what this means, and to him it’s confirmation of her yearning for him. He also remembers lilacs from when he was alive, which further strengthens the reincarnation theme at play here. And that’s why he accuses her being “false” when she claims to hate him; she has been calling out to him this whole time.

Ellen and Orlok’s connection runs deep and it’s spiritual at its core. Orlok has the divine feminine heptagram (seven-pointed star) on his sigil (not an alchemist heptagram), connected to Isis and Babalon. That’s why Robert Eggers calls their marriage sacred. Orlok magic isn’t only about the secrets of immortality, life and death; but also divine feminine, the worship of female energy. Which is the opposite of Christian Victorian society; patriarchal, male dominated and male centered, including sexually (sex for male pleasure alone). Which is why Eggers gave us the parallel of Thomas (Victorian society) vs. Orlok: Victorian men see sex as male-centered, while Orlok, the worshipper of the Divine Feminine, focus on female sexual pleasure, as Ellen finally experiences a vaginal orgasm with him.

Orlok has to be invited into places, like your regular vampire (and the film establish this with all the windows; the Nuns saying he can’t enter that house of God, it has nothing to do with God, but with him not being giving entrance; and Dr. Sievers saying they should go home because Orlok has certainly risen from his grave at that time, implying they aren’t safe in the streets). And it’s Ellen that gives him entrance into Wisburg, into the Hardings household and into her own home, at the end. He can only attack those in the street at night, and he threatened to kill Thomas knowing full well he couldn’t if he stays indoors and isn’t invited in.

But doesn’t Ellen suffers because of this haunting? She does and she doesn’t. She wants to interact with Orlok, but Victorian views of female sexuality tell her she shouldn’t want this (married heterosexual sex was the only social acceptable sexual expression and everything else was seen as “deviant”, “sinful” and “evil”; sex was a marital duty and for male pleasure alone; women’s sexuality was owned by their husbands; motherhood was a woman’s destiny). She’s conflicted. She also pretends to be innocent and naive because that’s what socially expected of her, and we see this with Anna Harding, as she infantilizes herself before her several times (“everything I say sounds so childish”).

And things get even darker because she gave Orlok entrance into the Harding household but then is enraged because Friedrich Harding sends her and Thomas home. The place where Thomas is actually safe from Orlok. And she pulls off her "possession scene". And during the carriage scene (when everyone is talking about destroying Orlok), she gets restless and intervenes: at first she plays it innocent by saying to Thomas "let me come with you", which he, obviously, refuses. Then she tells Professor Von Franz: "Professor, allow me to walk you to your door" but her voice sounds different here. We can't forget she's an enchantress, after all.

And, Professor Von Franz, the man who “saw things in this world that would make Isaac Newton crawl back to his mother’s womb”, actually looks scared of Ellen here:

Ellen is not letting anyone put a stake of cold iron on her lover demon, sending him somewhere she cannot reach him, and she finally accepts his covenant of being one with him, ever-eternally. Driving home the point: everything that happens in this story is according to Ellen's will. She's the one calling the shots, like Lily-Rose Depp tells us.

And she wins at the end because she gets exactly what she wants, as does Orlok himself, but he's scared of what will happen next because he probably knows there will be horrible pain in his physical death, and Ellen comforts him, as makes him look at her, instead of the sun.

[yunniverse]

You’re My Dream

౨ৎ PAIRING— rockstar!jeong yunho x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— fluff, ended relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, fluff

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 1.4k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— you broke up because he was too focused on his music dream, but maybe you and love were the real dream all along.

౨ৎ A/N— i saw a lot of people saying they wanted a oneshot with the concept photos from the 2025 seasons greetings, so i made one! i hope you like it, even though it isn’t quite as angsty as you probably wanted :( still, feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading, lovelies! <3 (i’ll tag a few people who said they were interested if someone wrote one: @beabatiny, @goldendynastys, @kibs-and-bits)

Staring at the fire crackling, you try to hold back the tears that threaten to escape. When had it all gone so wrong?

Just last year, you had been enjoying your boyfriend’s Christmas show with his rock band, and now you’re sitting alone, the night before Christmas.

The crackling of the fire adds to your melancholy, the harsh cold winds blowing outside creating a gloomy atmosphere. You know you should forget like he has, but you can’t throw away two years of your life that easily.

The memories of last Christmas come flooding back to you, even as you try to suppress them. Memories of sitting beside the fire with Yunho, cuddling as you watched a cheesy Christmas movie. Or baking Christmas cookies together at his apartment, laughing as you threw flour at each other.

Turning to the remote controller, you press the power button, not expecting to see him on the screen. His band is playing, and you immediately feel a pang in your chest at the sight of him, his fingers dashing across the keyboard.

Even though he’s the keyboard player and not the lead singer, he has an air about him that draws you in, making it unable to look away, even as you know you should. Why is he still having this effect on you?

The song is one you recognize. “Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call,” by Bleachers.

It’s a song he’d introduced to you last Christmas, and, even though it’s sad, it had been a source of joy for you in a way last year, because you remember dancing to the song with him, smiling and laughing.

Now, it really is sad.

When he gets up at the end of the song, leaning into the microphone, you furrow your eyebrows, listening.

“That song goes out to someone I lost a year ago today.” He looks right at the camera, his brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, baby. I wish it had been different, but know that I never really stopped loving you.”

You gasp, only momentarily questioning if he’s really talking to you, before you jump up, now determined to make things right for some reason. You know it’ll probably end in more heartache, but you have to try.

Grabbing your keys and coat, you hurry out the door into the winter storm, unlocking your car before hopping in.

Even though the roads are horrible tonight, you know the way to his apartment like the back of your hand, only slowing because of the snow.

About twenty minutes later, you arrive at his apartment complex, hurrying out of the car, through the blinding snow, and into the lobby of the building.

You try to calm yourself down, stepping into the elevator and pressing the button to the fourth floor.

When you get to the floor, you walk down the hall, slowing to a stop in front of his door. Taking a deep breath, you knock.

It takes about two minutes, but the door opens, revealing a messy-haired Yunho, a few locks of his dark blue hair having fallen in front of his brown eyes, which widen at the sight of you.

“Y/N?” he whispers, his hand clutching the doorknob so tight you think he might break it. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw the program.”

“Oh.”

With a sigh, you rub your arm, biting your lip, really starting to wonder what you’re really doing here yourself. “H-How have you been?”

“Is that really what you’re going to ask?” Yunho asks, giving you a half-smile.

“What else would I say?” you question softly, suddenly feeling stupid for coming to see him. “I can’t just say Merry Christmas or something stupid like I’ve missed you—”

“Can’t you?” he asks, his dark eyes searching yours. “Because I’ve missed you.”

Sighing, you frown slightly, “This can’t be happening. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let me just—“

He grabs your wrist as you turn to leave, making your gaze snap back to his. “Every day without you has been torture. You came to see me for a reason. Do you feel the same?”

“Yunho, it doesn’t matter how we feel. It can’t work now anymore than it did then. We have different goals.”

“We don’t have to!” he exclaims, almost desperately. “I can give up the band if that’s what you want. You were upset it took up so much of my time? I’ll quit.”

Your eyes widen as you shake your head, “Yunho, the reason you couldn’t give it up for me before is because it’s what you love to do. I can’t take that away from you. I can’t make you live without it.”

“Well, I can’t live without you.”

His words hang heavy in the air, making you suck in a sharp breath, “Yunho…”

“Don’t say anything,” Yunho tells you, taking a single step closer. “Just tell me…”

“Tell you what?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowing.

“What do you feel?” he asks, just before he leans in, his face inches from yours. Your heartbeat quickens as his warm breath fans across your lips. “If you feel nothing, I’ll leave you alone.”

You’re torn between wanting to close the distance and knowing you shouldn’t.

You don’t have to wait for long.

It feels like the world stops when his soft lips brush against yours for the first time in months. It isn’t like an electric shock, with fireworks exploding, rather it’s like coming home after a long time away. Like warmth and softness and… love.

It only takes a few seconds for you to melt into him, the kiss deepening as he lifts his hands to cup your face, your hands finding his chest, his heartbeat quickens beneath yours fingertips.

After a few moments, he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours as he pants softly, waiting for you to respond.

“I wish I could say I felt nothing,” you whisper, feeling a little helpless against your emotions. “But I can’t. I’ve never been able to.”

“Then give us another chance,” Yunho pleads, his thumbs brushing across your cheekbones. “I meant what I said during the program. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“But what about the band? What about all the reasons we broke up months ago?”

“You and I both know we were being petty then. And I can quit the band, like I said,” Yunho replies, his tone serious.

“I don’t want you to,” you respond quietly, making him furrow his eyebrows.

“What?” he asks slowly, confusion etched into his features.

“I don’t want you to quit what you love,” you clarify. “That’s what ended things between us before. We quit on our love, and I won’t let you quit on the band now. I was stupid to think you loved me any less because of your passion for music. Please don’t stop playing, Yun.”

“Are you sure?” he asks slowly. “It’ll still take up as much time as it did before, maybe more, since we’ve grown a little more popular now.”

“I don’t care,” you smile softly. “All I care about is being with you again. And I won’t let my jealousy over your time get in the way again… as long as you let me come to your shows.”

“Every single one.”

With a small laugh, you lean forward, pressing another soft kiss to his lips before burying your face in his neck, inhaling his calming scent you’ve missed so much.

“Maybe we should get out of the hallway?” Yunho chuckles, tugging your hand, guiding you into his apartment. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

You smile shyly, nodding, as you let him close the door behind you both.

Three months later, you’re cheering for Yunho and his band as he performs, smiling widely when he finally comes backstage, his arms open as you laugh, throwing yourself into his arms for a hug. “You did so well, Yunnie,” you whisper in his ear.

He grins, nuzzling his nose into your hair, “Thank you, baby. You’re always the best cheerleader.”

“Can’t say I don’t like the fake tattoos on your hands either,” you tell him wryly, tracing the markings with your finger.

“Oh?” he asks, chuckling softly, his eyes sparking with mischief. “Maybe I’ll leave them on for a little while. And I’ll be sure to tell the stylist you like them.”

“Good,” you grin. “I’m good with anything now as long as you never tell me ‘please don’t call’ like you did last winter ever again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”