#they might remember the event as vividly as you do

[lakemichigans]

if you ever get the chance to apologize to your sibling for something you did as kids, take it. i can almost guarantee you won't regret it

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him. 

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus. 

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain. 

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours. 

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly. 

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth. 

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment. 

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud. 

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. 

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord

[lanasblood]

HOW DO I MAKE YOU LOVE ME | neteyam x reader

pairing: neteyam x f!omatikaya!reader (no mentions of y/n)

summary: you remember all of your attempts to make Neteyam fall in love with you, using various methods, experiencing numerous failures, and you finally come to a conclusion or the five times you failed to win neteyam’s affection and the one time you succeed.

word count: 10k (!!! damn)

warnings: actually none but let’s say hurt/comfort, reader is a simp, 5+1 prompt, confessing, mutual pining, mention of blood, requited/unrequited love, !!adult neteyam!!, flashbacks to childhood and teenager years

note: inspired by the five love languages and the weeknd’s song mentioned in the title.

* gif‘s not mine.

The soft rustling of the teal leaves falling silently to the ground, as light as an ikran feather, is one of the most soothing sounds heard on the still night. The wind touches them gently, as if caressing them, before whirling them up again in a powerful gust, starting the cycle all over again. The moons stand high in the sky, and the stars sparkle like little gems that can beautify anything. The night is quiet, and the soft breeze seems to calm everything down and lull it into a deep sleep. The bright light of the bioluminescent plants lays gently on the moist meadows, illuminating the darkness. It is like a magical tale, perfect and without blemish. Yet, there is one who can't sleep in this harmonic time: you. With your arms and legs stretched out, you lie on your back, feeling like hours have passed since you started staring at the night sky without moving a muscle. You have even decided to sleep outside your hammock to hear and feel the sound of the wind, hoping to finally sink into the dreamland. But, as you know, this has done little to help. 

All because of him. You sigh in annoyance.

For as long as you can remember you've had this crush on the eldest son of the Olo'eyktan, you don't know when you developed it, let alone how it really started. You just know that it might have been cute at first – a nice girl from a small clan who has feelings for the older boy next door, but as time went by, it wasn't cute at all; on the contrary, it robs you of precious sleep and will most likely cause you to age prematurely. 

Despite not knowing how and when exactly this crush thing has started, you know that it has gotten worse the more time has passed, and the more time passes, the more failed attempts to get his attention you have behind you. However, there's one event you categorize as time zero - the starting point of your attempts - that you remember vividly: 

You were a mere child and couldn't take your eyes off Neteyam, who was only slightly older than you. Confidently clutching the stem of the rare flower you had been searching for days, you made your way through the lush forest, searching for Neteyam. As you thought about the plan you had concocted, your heart beat rapidly in your chest. You had heard from a reliable source that Neteyam was a lover of rare flora, and you hoped that this gift would make him see you in a different light. 

When you spotted him in the distance, his tall figure was moving gracefully through the trees. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, holding out the flower to him.

"Hey, Neteyam," you said, trying to sound casual. "I found this and I thought you might like it." 

Neteyam stopped in his tracks and turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. You held out the flower a bit higher, hoping to see a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said simply, slowly taking the flower from your outstretched hand. Looking at the flower now in his hand, the corner of his lips turned upward, causing your heart to flutter.

You told him happily, "It's a very rare flower," beaming a bright smile at him. 

And the next thing you knew, you were holding your breath as he bent slightly forward to your height and patted your head in praise, "It seems you're already a careful gatherer, baby neighbor. Keep it up!"

You felt your heart sink faster than a prey could run when he turned and continued on his way, leaving you standing there alone in the forest. You had hoped that your gesture would be enough to make him see you in a different light, but it seemed that it had made no difference at all, or even worse for he had called you the worst possible nickname to exist in all na'vihood. 

As you made your way back to the village, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment and frustration settling in you, the deep frown on your face mirroring your inner world. You had tried so hard to get Neteyam to notice you, but it seemed that he was simply not interested.

How do I make you love me?

After a few cycles and many more failed attempts in between, you realized that your little crush was not so little after all. Especially after Neteyam passed his Iknimaya at such a young age, your admiration for him grew every day. The feeling was almost unbearable as you found yourself constantly near him but not receiving the acknowledgment you wished for.

That was until one day, you decided to change that because your hormonal teenager brain had this glorious idea to spend some alone time with Neteyam. You had observed that he enjoyed hunting during his free time when he wasn't bound by his duties as the Olo'eyktan's firstborn. This is why you eagerly joined him on his next hunt, determined to impress him with your own hunting and tracking skills. Looking back, you now realize that your confidence may have been misplaced for your skills were basically non-existent at that time, but back then you were convinced that you were able to hunt.

So, you followed Neteyam deep into the forest, crouching right beside him in the underbrush, watching the herd of talioang grazing in the distance. Their blue and orange skin glinted in the sunlight, and you could hear the low rumble of their voices as they communicated with each other. 

"Do you thi—" Neteyam's hand swiftly covered your mouth, halting your words before they escaped, his touch gentle yet firm. It was electrifying, sending shivers down your spine. He motioned for you to be quiet and directed your attention towards the herd. As he removed his hand, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement in your blood. This was your chance to prove yourself.

Neteyam slowly and silently made his way towards the herd, you right on his track, moving from one piece of cover to another. Your eyes followed every movement of the muscles on his toned back, you felt your heart pounding in your chest, and your palms were slick with sweat. Even though you had never really hunted before, you were determined to succeed but Neteyam's captivating presence proved to be a distraction that made it difficult for you to concentrate on anything else. 

As you got closer to the herd, you could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Neteyam signaled for you to stop, and you froze, trying to make yourself as small as possible. He reached out and brushed a twig aside at your feet.

"Watch your steps," he whispered close to your ear, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your heart raced as you realized how close he was to you, and you wondered if he could hear it pounding in your chest. Longing to feel his lips against your skin, you couldn't help but turn your head slightly towards him, but you knew you couldn't let your desire distract you from the hunt.

"I do," you whispered back. Trying to calm your racing heart, you focused on the task at hand, scanning the ground for anything else that might make noise. But when you moved, you felt Neteyam's body shift slightly against yours, sending another jolt of electricity through you, and you wondered if he felt it too.

"No, you constantly step on something," he told you, still whispering, but voice stern. 

Feeling caught because there was a high possibility that he was right for you hadn't paid attention to your surroundings in the last couple of minutes, too busy doting on him, you couldn't find arguments to defend yourself, "I do not." 

Neteyam firmly pressed his finger on his own lips, signaling you to be quiet yet again. Your heart beat faster as you met his intense gaze, and you felt a rush of desire wash over you.

"Too much noise," he mouthed, his voice barely audible, and looked back at the herd. Following his gaze, you saw that the talioang had picked up on something, and they were starting to look nervous. You and Neteyam held your breaths, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

Suddenly, Neteyam gave the signal, and sprang into action. You just weren't really ready when he gave the signal, so with the first step you took, you stumbled on something growing on the ground and fell over with a short cry. Neteyam who had darted towards the nearest talioang, already drawing his bow and arrow, stopped right in his track when he heard you fall. You looked up at him when he quickly turned to you and then back at the herd but it was too late, the animals already reared up in surprise, and scattered in all directions. However, you were too shocked by your fatal mistake to pay them any attention. You were frozen in place, lying in the dirt, watching Neteyam looking back at you with a slightly agape mouth. The blood rushed to your head and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. 

You ruined it. 

Neteyam's disappointment was tangible. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew that he was angry. You would be, too. Struggling to express your remorse, the words got caught in your throat as you attempted to apologize. The weight of disappointment were heavy on your shoulders, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of letting him down.

After a long, awkward silence, Neteyam turned to you with a deep sigh. "You need to be more careful," he said, "When you're hunting, you have to be aware of everything around you. One mistake can ruin the whole hunt."

You nodded, feeling ashamed, you were sure your face was as purple as a yovo fruit. You had wanted to impress Neteyam, but instead you had embarrassed yourself in front of him, had blown any chance to show him that you were capable.

How do I make you fall for me?

Over time, you learned from your previous mistakes. Wanting to impress him proved to be harder than anticipated, but having a conversation with him was easier than expected. You needed to show him how much you appreciated him for who he was. As a result, you began to pay closer attention to the way he interacted with others, especially his younger brother Lo'ak, and you started to incorporate some of those phrases into your conversations with him.

One bright day, you nervously approached Neteyam, hoping to strike up a conversation with him using your newfound knowledge:

"Hey, Neteyam," you greeted tentatively, "Whatcha doin'?"

You left out the bro on purpose, fearing it would be overkill. Even so, the words coming out of your mouth sounded strange to you, and for him apparently too, as he rapidly looked up from his task upon hearing your voice, and his otherwise neutral face looked at you with a slightly frowned forehead and attentive eyes, studying you for a moment before he was quick to collect himself and greeted you with a slight smile.

"Not much. Tuk asked me to repair this old basket for her," he said, motioning with his hands on the basket between his legs, "And I'm trying." 

You nodded, trying not to seem too eager, "That's really kind of you. I bet she'll be thrilled once you finish it," you said with a smile. 

Neteyam simply hummed in response and went back to his task, his concentration returning.

"I mean, I would, too. Tuk is very lucky, it must be nice to have a brother like you," you complimented him.

"But you do have a brother," Neteyam reminded you matter-of-factly, "We used to attend the same training sessions so many times."

"Yeah," you continued, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. "But, uh, he is not as skilled as you are." Good save. "And he never did such kind things for me when I was little. The only thing he did was teach me how to fight." 

"That's a valuable skill," Neteyam commented.

"Well, what I mean is, he's an ordinary brother, while you are one of a kind, Neteyam. Your siblings are incredibly lucky to have you," you said, emphasizing your point.

Neteyam smiled to himself, his canines slightly showing, as he went back to working on the basket. You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach at the thought of him noticing your flattery.

"I appreciate that," he said, acknowledging your compliment.

After a few minutes of silence, you took a deep breath and you mustered up the courage to ask him a question, "May I say something?"

He looked up at you again and nodded. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

You decided to take the chance, "I just wanted to say that you always seem to know just what to do and say, and that's very impressive. You're responsible, always respectful, and very patient. Not just with me but with everyone in our clan. And I want you to know that I really appreciate it, Neteyam." I appreciate you.

Neteyam's expression softened as he listened to your words. "You have a kind heart to express that," he replied, a hint of a smile still playing at the corner of his lips.

You took a deep breath and continued, "I know you don't share much about your personal life, but if you ever feel comfortable talking about it I would love to learn more about you."

Neteyam's smile reached his eyes. "Thank you, I will keep that in mind."

You felt a warm glow of happiness in your chest as you realized that your words affected him. You were willing to put in the work to get to know him better.

Encouraged by his response, you asked, "So, do you have any concrete plans after your Uniltaron?"

Neteyam's expression faltered a bit upon hearing you mention his upcoming Dream Hunt, he seemed almost reserved all of a sudden. "I do have a few, but they are personal," he replied, "I prefer to keep them to myself."

You felt a pang of disappointment. "Oh, I understand," you said, trying to hide your dejection, "I'm sorry. It was not my place to ask."

"You don't have to apologize," he responded, "But some things are best kept within the family."

"Yeah, I get it," you smiled weakly, feeling like you had hit a wall, "Thanks for talking with me, Neteyam."

He nodded and went back to his task, leaving you feeling deflated and uncertain about how to get closer to him.

How do I make you want me?

The previous attempts to win Neteyam's attention had proven unsuccessful: The gifts you gave him didn't have the desired effect, your attempts to impress him by spending time with him backfired (you want to forget that memory of the hunt so badly), and the conversations you had with him remained superficial, never delving deeper into meaningful topics. It was clear that you needed a new approach, a fresh idea to capture his interest which brought you back to point zero.

You walked through the forest, scanning the undergrowth for any signs of the flowers you had been studying for quite some time – the kind you gifted Neteyam when you were little. It turns out that the rare flower wasn't that rare after all, it only bloomed a short time a cycle, which is what made it so valuable. However, if they were dried and powdered, very useful medicines could be made. At some point you had started collecting this flower, as well as other herbs and plants for Tsahìk, and in return she had taught you how to make rich creams and pastes from them. And you could also consume this flower in meals if you let it cook over the fire for a long time. Pondering if it would evoke nostalgia within Neteyam, while you plucked them carefully from the ground, you wondered if he ever remembered the day you gave him that flower in the first place.

Gathering a variety of edible flowers, aromatic herbs, and other nourishing ingredients from the village, you spent all morning helping the women in your clan prepare a wholesome and delicious meal for the warriors. In anticipation of Neteyam's training session, you decided to take this thoughtful approach to show your support and care.

As the aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air, you volunteered to bring the full basket of handmade food wraps and lovely cut fruits to the training area. 

The warriors were engrossed in their practice, their movements fluid and powerful. You scanned the crowd, searching for Neteyam among them.

Spotting him in the midst of the intense training session, his lean muscles glistening with sweat under the warm sun, you couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration. His movements were powerful and precise, each strike displaying his skill as a warrior. His strength and determination did something to you, feeling a magnetic pull towards him. 

Balancing the basket of food in your hands, you approached the outskirts of the training area, careful not to interrupt the warriors' focus. You set up a blanket and arranged the food on it attractively. Your intention was not only to impress Neteyam but to show your support for the entire group.

"I swear, Eywa send you here," you heard someone say next to you, a bit out of breath, while impatient hands reached into the basket and helped you place the food, "I'm starving!"

"Lo'ak, are you allowed to end your training like this?" You questioned, and turned your head in the direction of the warriors — the training was obviously still in full swing, but it was precisely then that you met Neteyam's gaze who was already looking over at you, a mixture of surprise and curiosity evident in his eyes. 

"Not really but it smells so good, I'm ready to be skinned for these delici— Oh, I'm taking this one, yeah?" He started unwrapping one of the food wraps and hastily bit into it. 

"Hey, wait for the others!" you admonished him, but his wrap was already half eaten.

"Mm, das bom!" you heard him smack loudly, "S'rusly, yur da best."

"I'm glad," you responded, suppressing a laugh. Lo'ak acted like he hadn't eaten in days. 

Noticing the spread of food, the warriors collectively ended the training session, and the men started approaching the nourishing dishes, including freshly grilled meats, vibrant vegetables, and flavorful herbs.

Sensing an opportunity, you went towards Neteyam, a food wrap in your hand, and a warm smile gracing your lips. "I thought I would spare you the long way, in case you're starving like your brother," you joked, gesturing with your head towards Lo'ak behind you, who was taking two more food wraps and calling dips on the rawp.

Neteyam's gaze shifted from the feast you had prepared to the food in his hands and then at you. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 

"That's thoughtful of you," he replied, his voice carrying a subtle warmth, "It's been an intense training session, and this is a welcome surprise."

You stepped back, allowing him to enjoy the meal with his fellow warriors. Observing from a distance, you noticed the camaraderie and laughter that emerged as they gathered around the spread of food, indulging in the flavors that were carefully crafted.

Throughout the meal, you found yourself drawn to Neteyam's presence. The way he spoke with passion about his experiences, the way he listened attentively to others, and the way his eyes sparkled with a hidden depth — all of it only fueled your growing attraction.

As the training session continued, you lingered nearby, engaging in conversations with other warriors, offering encouragement and companionship. While your initial intention was to impress Neteyam, you found joy in connecting with the community as a whole, so much you almost didn't realize that the day's training had come to an end.

"Thank you for the meal and your company," Neteyam said softly as he walked next to you back to the village, carrying the basket for you with a genuine smile gracing his face. "It meant a lot to all of us."

Your cheeks warmed at his words, "I didn't do much, the others—"

"You are here, that alone is more than enough."

You nodded, a sense of satisfaction washing over you. "I'm glad I could contribute," your voice was filled with sincerity, "Supporting you and the clan is important to me."

A surge of hope welled up inside you, but as the conversation continued, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Despite your efforts, the romantic tension you had hoped for seemed to elude you. The conversation remained pleasant yet distant, and it became clear that Neteyam saw you more as a friend than a potential partner. With a heavy heart, you realized that your attempt to catch his interest had once again fallen short.

And make it last eternally?

For quite some time now, you have firmly believed that you have left those days behind you, imprisoned in childhood memories, overlapped by numerous teenage embarrassments. After all, now you are an adult with serious duties and commitments to attend to, and there's neither time nor room for such childish infatuations. Crushing on the future Olo'eyktan. Please. Plus, once you found out how many other girls in your clan, both older and younger than you, adored him, you figured it is best to move on. You were frustrated at times, but you resolved to carry on, cherishing the friendship you shared with Neteyam while silently letting go of your unrequited feelings. At least, that's what you thought...

… until three eclipses ago.

Mere moments before the eclipse, the all-too-familiar soft light danced in the room,  casting a golden hue that revealed the tiniest pollen floating around inside Tsahìk's crowded tent. It had been a long time since so many people had been injured at once, yet no one was ready to explain or report what had happened.

As two new figures entered the tent, one of them supporting the other, you heard a familiar voice speaking calmly, "Focus on not getting blood all over grandmother's tent rather than worrying about my wounds."

"Nah, I'm just- Ouch! Careful, bro!"

"Sorry, brother, but you have to cooperate with me here," Neteyam uttered while carefully helping Lo'ak onto the mat made of woven grasses that Kiri had prepared for them with blankets. 

"I'm just saying—Ahh," Lo'ak hissed as Neteyam applied pressure to his open wound with his bare hands, while Kiri hastily tied together any available cloths for his wound care. "-it's not very mighty of you, you know."

"What is not very mighty of him?" Kiri wanted to know, now taking over and applying pressure to his wound as well to stop the bleeding. As you shifted to Kiri's side, you handed her more cloths that she could wrap around Lo'ak's leg.

"His wounds, of course," Lo'ak grinned when he saw you and gave his older brother another amused sideways glance, before continuing, "but I'm sure he will be in great hands now. Right, bro?"

Just a quick glance at Lo'ak was enough to see that he was far worse off than Neteyam. While his wounds did not appear to be life-threatening, he was bleeding profusely from his thigh.

Tsahìk had already rushed to the four of you, throwing a disapproving look at Lo'ak, "Oh, my boy, let me have a look." With her expertise, she quickly got the situation under control, ordering Kiri to get more cloths while you stood by her side to assist her.

"My child, attend to his wounds," Tsahìk instructed you, but to your surprise she nodded towards Neteyam instead of Lo'ak as she pushed a bowl of fresh water into your hands. "My granddaughter and I can handle this young clumsy man here." Her stern gaze was once again fixed on Lo'ak, who, in turn, only grinned at her.

"Grandmother," Neteyam began soothingly, ready to protest, "there is no need to—" but her piercing eyes silenced him, causing him to follow you wordlessly to the other side of the tent.

And that's how you found yourself sitting in front of Neteyam, tending to his wounds with the gentle touch of your hands, caring for each cut and bruise.

"You need to be more careful," you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence as you wrung the cloth in the water that had already turned a muddy reddish color.

"I'm content with the present circumstances," he replied, his voice laced with a touch of amusement. You gave him a sarcastic look, which he reciprocated with a warm smile.

"Well, I suppose then you'll be content with this as well." Pressing the damp cloth into his hand, you stood up and leisurely made your way to Tsahìk's supplies to fetch some healing ointments, and you took your time doing so.

Upon your return, Neteyam watched you attentively, his eyes tracing your every movement, and you wondered if he had been watching you the whole time. There was a newfound curiosity in his gaze, a glimmer of something more. 

"My words came out wrong," he said when you sat back on the ground in front of him. The air was filled with a mix of anticipation and unspoken emotions, a subtle tension hanging between you. "You're right, I should be more careful. I always strive to be. It's just that there's little one can do in the face of an ambush."

"An ambush?" you asked with big eyes, "Oh, Great Mother! That's what everyone's been trying to conceal. And I was wondering the whole time what could've possibly happened to cause so many injuries."

"They probably didn't want to cause an uproar." You listened to his words, sensing the weight they carried. The mention of an ambush brought back memories of past dangers and harrowing encounters. The gravity of their lives was never far from their thoughts, and you understood the weight that rested on Neteyam's shoulders.

"You don't always have to be the strong one, Neteyam," you said softly, voice carrying reassurance, when you continued cleaning the cut on his chest, noticing that he tried not to wince under your touch, "It's alright to lean on others, to let them care for you." 

A flicker of emotion danced across his face, a fleeting moment of vulnerability before he regained his composure. His hand reached out to touch yours resting on his chest above his heart, the contact gentle yet charged with unspoken emotions.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, and in that moment it felt like the boundaries between healer and wounded blurred, "Thank you for being here, for tending to me." His eyes locked with yours, an unspoken promise passing between you, turning your cheeks in a light purply color.

"Now," you cleared your throat with the intention of changing the subject, fervently hoping that he wouldn't notice your flushed cheeks, "here comes the actual healing part."

Gently, you dipped your fingers into the jar of ointment, scooping out a generous amount. With deliberate movements, you applied the soothing balm to his wounds, careful not to cause any further discomfort. The ointment glided smoothly, creating a soothing sensation that seemed to envelop him in a healing embrace.

"What I meant before is that I am glad that you are the one taking care of me," you smiled upon hearing those words, feeling his gaze on you as you concentrated on his upper body. A gentle warmth radiated from his wounds as your fingertips grazed his skin, mingling with the tender touch of your hands. The ointment possessed a subtle fragrance, hinting at the natural remedies it held within.

As you continued to apply the ointment, your fingers delicately tracing the contours of his chest, exploring the intricate landscape of his injuries, a comfortable silence settled between you. The rhythm of your ministrations became a quiet conversation, a wordless understanding of care and compassion. With every gentle caress, a subtle shiver passed through him, a reaction that spoke of both vulnerability and an underlying trust in your touch. There was a closeness in this shared moment, a connection forged through the tender act of healing.

Neteyam's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes revealing a depth of gratitude and something more profound. It was as if the vulnerability of his wounds had peeled away a layer, exposing a vulnerability of the heart. The strength he embodied as a warrior was softened in this vulnerable space, allowing a snippet into the depths of his mind and soul.

"It never stings when you patch me up, why?" Neteyam asked, his voice laced with wonder, tilting his head slightly.

"The secret is to mix yalnabark with 'omsyul," you replied, your voice gentle yet filled with a hint of playfulness.

"Care to share this secret with my grandmother? And Kiri, too?" Neteyam's request was teasing but also genuine, and you couldn't help but be touched by his thoughtfulness.

"Actually, Kiri is the one who taught me this," you admitted, a fondness in your voice.

Neteyam's forehead furrowed slightly, "Then why does it always burn when she patches me up?"

With a twinkle in your eyes, you playfully suggested, "Sibling love?"

A mischievous smile curved his lips. "Or perhaps your touch is blessed by Eywa?" His words hung in the air, filled with a newfound flirtation that took you by surprise. 

"Oh, come on now, exaggerate much, do you?" you responded, attempting to brush off his words with a hint of irony, not fully realizing the impact they had on you.

Undeterred by your sarcastic retort, Neteyam looked deeply into your eyes, his voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability. "The caress of your hand weaves a tapestry of enchantment, casting a spell that captivates my very soul."

His words echoed in your mind, resonating with a blend of tender affection and longing. You wished he had said those words when you were younger and so in love with him, meaning every syllable coming from his kissable lips. What you would have given to hear him say it.

A blush spread across your cheeks as you struggled to find the right words to respond. The air around you seemed charged with electricity, the tension between you both palpable.

"You said I should exaggerate," Neteyam added, a witty glint in his eyes, as if to remind you of your earlier banter. 

Your younger self would have etched his previous words into a tree to make them eternal — words you longed to hear from your crush, words that felt like a dream.

"Crush?" he asked with interest, and your eyes widened with the realization that you had spoken your thoughts aloud. "On whom?"

"Um," a jumble of thoughts flooded your mind at once, too late for an excuse, "You?" 

Your confession left him momentarily speechless, and your heart pounded in your chest. 

It's in the past, so it's okay to admit it, you told yourself, trying to calm down a bit.

"You have a crush on me?"

"Had," you corrected quickly.

"You had a crush on me?" he asked again, as if needing confirmation. It seemed to sweep him off his feet, a revelation he hadn't expected.

"Everyone did, everyone does," you confessed, trying to downplay the significance.

"Everyone except you?"

You shrugged, unsure how to answer, "I guess I'm… over it."

"Why?" he inquired.

"Come on, Neteyam," you sighed, trying to mask the bitterness in your voice, "don't act like you didn't know."

"I swear by Eywa this is news to me… I have never…" he hesitated briefly with his words, "It doesn't even make sense."

Make sense?

"Don't make me regret telling you," you said, your voice tinged with frustration, "It's not about making sense, and it's not a big deal either, don't you agree?"

"Yes, but I try to understand."

"What is there to understand?"

"Why would you even crush on me in the first place?"

Oh. 

"You're right," you tightly gripped the cloth, forcing a smile, "why would I."

Even though you reluctantly admitted it, it hurt you and scratched at your ego. You were now more than grateful to have never openly communicated your feelings. As an adult, you could handle it, but you know exactly that this reaction would have devastated your childhood self. You were not accustomed to this insensitivity from Neteyam, considering he always maintained a noble and respectable demeanor. This showed you even more how repulsive the idea of having you by his side was to him.

"Also, I'm sorry," you turned around in a swing, your voice filled with sadness, disappointment, and above all, anger—anger at him for acting like a skxawng and anger at yourself for being a skxawng by confiding in him, "that the thought of me being attracted to you disgusts you so much. It won't happen again, rest your mind."  

He seemed lost for words, blinking once, twice, and opening his mouth only to close it again, processing your words. Part of you yearned for him to say something, to prove you wrong, but nothing came. His gaze lingered on you for a long moment, altering between your eyes, the unspoken words hanging in the air. 

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere," you said, your voice tinged with resignation. You prepared to turn away, ready to retreat from the turmoil of the moment. But just as you began to pivot, a sudden, gentle grip on your arm stopped you in your tracks. It was Neteyam, his touch both unexpected and tender.

In that instant, conflicting emotions surged within you, caught between the instinct to push him away and the captivating gaze that held your attention. Without uttering a single word, he drew you closer, wrapping you in a tight embrace that left you completely defenseless, your body momentarily frozen in surprise against his bare skin.

Your initial response was to resist, your mind still reeling from the whirlwind of confusion. Yet, as his arms enveloped you, a scent as enchanting as the forest's vibrant essence and the serenity of sacred woods wafted into your consciousness. It was a harmonious blend that stirred your senses, mingling the fragrant allure of nature with the grounding whispers of sandalwood.

Inhaling deeply, the captivating aroma cast a spell upon you, dissolving the remnants of anger and frustration that had once consumed your thoughts like a distant memory as he held you firmly in his strong arms, the warmth of his body seeping into your very core.

In this suspended moment, time appeared to lose its grip as the only audible sounds were the rhythm of your synchronized breaths and the rhythmic beat of your hearts.

"I'm sorry too," you heard him whisper in your hair as he pulled away from you and left the tent, leaving you confused.

It was in that moment, surrounded by the fading light and the soft whispers of the forest outside the tent, that you realized the painful truth: nothing would be the same between you and Neteyam because

no matter what you did, you would never be able to make him love you.

And exactly this is the reason of your sleepless nights, which is why, in the middle of your melancholic nostalgia, you decided to take a little walk to the lake nearby to pass the time until daybreak which leads you to the lake. You currently sit on a mossy tree stump above the shimmering water allowing your feet to hang freely just above the glistening surface of the lake, instead of sleeping safe and sound like the rest of the village. The purples, greens, and yellows of the bioluminescent flora and fauna smile at you but you fail to smile back. Your heart heavy with a mix of emotions and your mind full of questions, you try not to think of more memories, each one feeling like a dagger, piercing your already fragile heart. 

You try to understand, yet it's difficult for you.

After so many failed attempts and moments of acceptance in between, he still manages to confuse you with his mixed signals. The moment, when he hugged you, replays relentlessly in your thoughts as if burned in your mind, a vivid recollection that carries the weight of his proximity, the tempting linger of his scent, and the electric touch that ignited a fierce tension within you. It was an encounter that left an indelible mark, an irresistible dance between desire and restraint, etching itself into the deepest recesses of your longing soul.

You groan into your hands. You want to hate him. So much.

Three eclipses have come and gone since then, way too much time to think between that and the part where you made the decision to distance yourself from Neteyam. This time for real. You wake up earlier than everyone else, dedicating yourself to your work, skipping communal meals and shared gatherings entirely. You complete your tasks and retreat back to your home, like a ghost in the clan, yet living unscathed within your own space, seeking solace in the sanctuary of solitude.

Almost every hour, you find yourself battling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, you long to see him, to be in his presence, and to feel that familiar connection. But on the other hand, you remember his last words and the way he looked at you when he learned about your past feelings. Distance will be best for the both of you. The ache in your heart hasn't subsided, but you know the step is necessary for your own well-being, it's a shield you've built to preserve what little strength remains within you.

Yesterday, your changed behavior was noticed by Tsahik, so she confronted you directly, but she neither questioned you nor expected any form of explanation. Her words still echo in your mind, partly because forgetting the moment will be difficult with the way she looked at you with her kind eyes, as if understanding the depths of your heartache.

"My child," she laid her hand gently on your shoulder, her voice carrying the wisdom of the ages, "Sometimes the tides do not turn in the way we hope but that does not diminish the beauty of the love within your heart. Always remember that Eywa has woven the threads of affection and devotion. Thus, have trust that the stars will align one day, for love, in all its form, is a gift to cherish."

The words resonate deep within your soul, as you sit by the tranquil water, the soft glow of the plants casting an ethereal light around you, a gentle breeze rustles through the verdant foliage. In these moments of isolation, you reflect on the times you've spent with Neteyam, the moments that sparked the flame of attraction within you. You question whether those were genuine or merely figments of your imagination, the doubts swirling in your mind, clouding your judgment and feeding your insecurities. 

The stars above seem to mirror the twinkle in your eyes, a bittersweet reminder of the unfulfilled desire for you can't comprehend why your heart continues to long for him despite your mind trying to move on. Your thoughts are deep in contemplation when—

"Can we talk?" The voice startles you, and you flinch sharply, almost letting out a scream. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, the fright taking hold of you. Quickly, you turn around, only to see that out of everyone, Neteyam approaches you, his figure blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," a crooked smile forms on his lips.

You look up, meeting his gaze with a guarded expression, unsure of what to expect from this encounter. His presence catches you off guard, causing your heart to skip another beat. The sight of him stirs a mix of emotions within you—longing, uncertainty, fear, but also a flicker of hope.

"You didn't," you lie, your voice tinged with coldness.

He nods his head towards the space beside you, "May I?" 

Neteyam's eyes hold a certain earnestness, a silent plea for understanding. You just shrug your shoulders, and he interprets it as a yes. He takes a seat beside you, his movements graceful and measured, his tail gently swaying in the air, your shoulders and thighs nearly touching. 

The silence between you is tense, charged with unspoken words and residual feelings. You let your feet dangle above the water. As you wiggle your toes, you feel a gentle coolness from the air mingling with the refreshing touch of the water below.

He clears his voice, "I've noticed your absence these past few days."

"Oh?" Your ears perk up with curiosity, surprised that he has noticed, "I was busy."

"You were missing from the meal servings as well," he notes, his words carrying a hint of concern.

"Yeah, I haven't had much of an appetite lately," you reply, sounding detached.

You aren't sure if you have misheard, but it seems like Neteyam has whispered softly to himself, "Me neither," although it can also be your mind playing tricks on you.

"You see, I, uh..." he pauses, seemingly struggling to find the right words which is so unusual for him, "Can I speak openly with you?"

"Don't you always?" Your voice still laced with a hint of coldness.

"Indeed," you noticed from the corner of your eye a brief tension in his hands that gradually relaxes, "I just wanted to let you know that there is no need for you to feel obligated to skip communal gatherings because of me." 

You can't help but scoff at that, however, he remains undeterred by your reaction.

"It's okay if you don't want to see me — I will keep my distance if that is what you want, but, please, don't avoid the clan in an attempt to avoid me. Don't isolate yourself."

"Funny," you say bitterly, your gaze still on the water, "that you think you have that much power over me."

"That's not what I wanted to say, it's—"

"It's fine, Neteyam," you interrupt him, turning your head to him, your jaw clenched, "I get it. If the future Olo'eyktan says so, I'll comply. See you at the morning meal."

You attempt to get up, but he gently grasps your wrist, halting your movement.

"I can sense that something has changed between us, and it weighs heavily on my heart," his voice carries a hint of vulnerability.

"Things change," you respond as he loosens his grip, but you refrain from attempting to get up again, waiting for the conversation to end, "Is there anything else?"

"Yes," he shifts, causing your thighs to briefly brush against each other, "I've had time to reflect on our last conversation."

"Actually, let's not—" you try to interrupt him, but this time he doesn't let your words stop him.

"Let me say this one thing and after that you don't have to talk to me again."

You meet his gaze, which is filled with honesty and a touch of guilt. You nod and look at him, noticing how he rubs his hands on his thighs and takes a deep breath.

"I was caught off guard," he admits, his voice softer now, "When we talked, I mean; and when I learned that you used to feel an affection for me — I didn't handle it well. I'm sorry for the way I reacted and for the pain I may have caused you."

You remain silent for a few seconds remembering the unpleasant conversation from last time, before you speak, "We don't have to talk about it, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay!" You notice the tension in his muscles. "You see," he takes a deep breath, "I didn't understand why you would crush on me."

"You made that very clear," you remark.

"I regret my poor choice of words, and for any offense it may have caused. I immediately noticed that my words had an impact on you, but I was too overwhelmed to correct myself in the moment," he admits, a hint of regret in his voice, "Please know that the idea of you being attracted to me never has and never will disgust me," his eyes lock with yours as his voice gets quieter when he adds, "It scares me."

Upon hearing that, your features soften slightly, a flicker of empathy crossing your face, and the question leaves your mouth before you can think about it, "Why?"

Now he's the one shrugging, "Everyone has their own doubts and fears."

You're not satisfied with that response, and you want him to open up to you for which you are willing to meet him halfway. So you begin an attempt to make him elaborate on his statement, "I'm scared of many things." you watch him intently as you speak, "Accidentally plucking poisonous plants instead of the usual herbs, falling down the hallelujah mountains, being eaten alive by nantangs." And most of all, rejection. "I can't help but wonder what fears could reside within a mighty warrior like yourself."

His mouth twitches slightly upwards when you say that, but is quickly replaced by a neutral expression. "The possibility of someone seeing through my façade," Neteyam admits sighing, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and self-reflection, "Of someone truly knowing me," he holds your gaze, a certain vulnerability in them, "That terrifies me."

You are left speechless, completely caught off guard by his answer.

"But," you stammer, trying to find the right words to express your thoughts, "you're Neteyam, you're... perfect in everything you do. I never considered the possibility that you might have these thoughts."

He shakes his head, disagreeing. "No, definitely not, I am far off from being perfect. That's why I couldn't understand why you would have feelings for me," he confesses, vulnerability shining in his gaze. "Because I never saw myself the way you did. But maybe, just maybe, this is why I've been blind to the possibility of something more between us."

"If you're only here to make me feel better about myself..." you start, your voice trailing off.

"No," he groans in frustration. "That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

He chuckles at your reaction, "I get nervous when you look at me that way."

"What do you mean?" You are the one getting nervous because of his statement for he doesn't look nervous at all, on the contrary, he looks very relaxed and almost overconfident. 

"Yeah, can't you tell my hands are all sweaty?" he lets you know with a smirk while he studies your face.

"Neteyam," you blink in confusion, "Are you okay?"

"You're not listening," he sighs, his smile dropping slightly.

"Then talk openly," you urge impatiently.

He takes a deep breath and looks you directly in the eyes. "I've come to realize that you mean more to me than just a friend."

Your features falter and your eyes widen, as the realization dawns upon you that your feelings have not been unrequited after all. "No."

"I have a crush on you, too," he whispers euphorically, confirming your thoughts.

"No, Neteyam, not now," you shake your head quickly, your mind filled with way too many thoughts and too much confusion. Instantly, you stand up as if stung by an insect, trying to maintain your composure.

"It didn't start now, it was always there," he admits, standing up as well, now towering over you and studying your face and your reaction again. "But I fear that I've missed my chance. And now, it seems like it's too late."

Ignoring his words entirely, you fixate your serious gaze on him, "You can't do this to me."

"What?" he blinks, seeming to comprehend your words, "Why?" his gaze momentarily shifts from one eye to the other with a swift glance, reflecting his confusion.

"Because all my life, I did everything to try to make you notice me. I went beyond my comfort zone, I did everything I could. But from you," You look at him, gesturing towards his entire figure as if the reason were obvious, "there was nothing. Not one single acknowledgment from you. I accepted it. I moved on. I made peace with the thought of just knowing you and supporting what is good for you," You find yourself almost breathless, your words tumbling out rapidly, but each one carries sincere meaning. "You can't come now, years later, and pretend that you have a crush on me. I can't go through that again."

He takes a step forward, clearly taken aback by your outburst. "I... I'm not pretending to—"

"And I'm so tired," you interrupt him, your voice faltering, "Now that I've finally let go of you, you can't say things like this."

"Let go?" he repeats, his voice filled with disbelief, "Of me?"

"Yes, Neteyam," you persist firmly. "Let go of you. I don't want you anymore."

The night air feels heavy with unspoken regrets and unfulfilled desires as the silence underlines the shared acknowledgment of the chasm that has opened between you. Neteyam's expression shifts from disappointment to determination, a flicker of hope dancing in his eyes. "How do I make you love me, then?"

It feels ironic that he's asking you that question, considering you used to be the one who always wondered how you could make him love you whenever you saw him. You groan in frustration, feeling overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. 

"I worked so hard to accept things as they are. That is not fair, Neteyam." A mix of sadness and anger can be heard in your voice.

"Please listen," he pleads, reaching out to touch your arm. You close your eyes, turning your head away. "I've been blind to your feelings, consumed by my own worries and obligations, and I didn't see what was right in front of me, hurting you in the process. I'm sorry I caused you pain. If I had known sooner…"

"What then?" you interrupt, your voice filled with bitterness. "Do you think everything would magically change, and we'd be deeply in love with a family of our own by now?"

Neteyam pauses for a moment, processing your words, and a hopeful smile crosses his face. "Yes, that's a possibility."

You groan in exasperation and attempt to push him away, your frustration boiling over. "No, Neteyam. I can't keep living in this cycle of uncertainty." 

As you push him away from you, your heart heavy, you walk away with determined steps, wanting to bring as much distance between him and you as possible.

"I love you!" he shouts after you, causing you to freeze in your tracks and turn around in utter shock. "I love you. And if that's not enough, then so be it. But I would rather be damned than let you go now, heading who knows where in the middle of the night. If you don't want me, I won't approach you, I won't come near. But don't run away from me."

Desperation visible in his voice, his words reach deep into your heart; the intensity echoing in the air, leaving a profound impact on both of you.

"I've been waiting for your love for far too long," you respond bitterly.

Taking cautious steps in your direction, trying to close the physical and emotional distance between you, he asks, "Why waste more time?" It feels as if an invisible force draws you together, intertwining your fates in this pivotal moment but you remain stubborn, too exhausted and clouded from the painful burn in your heart.

"I don't want you," you declare, the words slipping out uncertainly, as if trying to convince both him and yourself.

"Then look me in the eyes when you say those words," he challenges, his voice stern, gaze unwavering.

"I don't want you," you repeat, louder this time, trying to emphasize your resolve. However, instead of looking into his eyes, your gaze fixates on his face, tracing the patterns of his glowing freckles that your mind has memorized long ago.

The moonlight bathes the scene in a gentle gleam, and you both stare at each other in complete silence, the space between you filled with suffocating tension.

A knowing smile suddenly forms on his lips. "I don't believe you."

"I don't want you, Neteyam!" you exclaim, raising your voice even more, repeating the words over and over, in a desperate attempt to convince him, "I don't want you, I don't want you, I don't want you!"

He studies you intently for another moment, his eyes filled with hope.

"Your tail gives you away," he says triumphantly, his smile growing. And that's when you finally let go of your suppressed emotions. Your lower lip begins to tremble, and before you know it, you find yourself in his warm embrace, his strong arms pulling you impossibly closer to him.

"I want you," you confessed against his chest, your voice barely audible and filled with so much vulnerability, "After everything, I still want you." 

"Shh, you have me," he whispers, his voice soothing and reassuring.

You sob, the weight of your emotions finally breaking free, and he tenderly pats your head, his fingers gliding through your hair. His touch brings a sense of calmness to your racing heart and gently dries your tears.

"I'll make up for all the time lost, I promise," his voice reaches your ear, soft and full of sincerity.

His words continue to soothe you, and at one point, he hums a faint melody that resonates deep within you, gradually bringing an end to your sobs.

"Do you recall the day you asked about my plans after my Dream Hunt, and I hesitated to provide an answer?" He asks after you calm down, his voice carrying an infinite sense of solace.

Your arms still around him, you nod against his chest, every word of that conversation etched into your mind.

"That day," he continues, "I have sworn to myself to admire your eternal beauty from afar, to cherish your body, mind, and soul until the end of my days," he whispers softly in your hair, "with the hope that one day I will hold you close and claim you as my very own."

You take a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed by his words and the emotions swirling within you. Slowly, you lift your head from his chest, your teary eyes meeting his with awe.

"I... I never imagined you felt this way," you whisper, your voice hoarse and fragile from your sobs. "To think that you've carried these feelings for me all this time, it's... I don't know what to say."

"Interesting," he comments, eyes with a gleam, lips playful, "You were just as oblivious to my feelings as I was to yours, so I guess that makes us even." A mischievous bunny-like smile plays across his face, transforming him into the youthful version of himself that you have fallen deeply in love with, no longer the mighty warrior following in the footsteps of the great Toruk Makto, but the young man who has captured your heart long ago.

You can feel tears welling up in your eyes again, overwhelmed by the weight of his words and the intensity of your own emotions. With a shaky breath, you reach to your waist, gently intertwining your fingers with his.

In the warmth of his arms, you find solace for your burning heart. His arms hold you tightly, offering a sense of intimate security that you've always wished for. But then, something shifts. 

The intensity of your emotions begins to wane, and as you look up at him through tear-filled eyes, you see his gaze fixed upon you with unwavering love, trying to read you as he cups your face with his large hands. His thumb gently brushes away a lingering tear on your cheek, his touch delicate against your skin. A soft, affectionate smile graces his lips as he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against the place where your tear was mere seconds ago. The sweetness of the gesture stirs your heart, a silent affirmation of his loving nature. He continues to kiss away your tears, each touch a soothing balm to your wounded soul.

A powerful desire burns between you then, as his soft lips linger near yours. His eyes meet yours again, seeking permission, and you respond with a silent nod. Right then and there, the world around you fades into the background, and all that matters is the connection you share. With a surge of passion, his lips meet yours in a fervent kiss, the longing coming to an end, hearts intertwined. 

The tender touch of his lips against yours feels like an electric jolt that sends shivers down your spine. You both pull back slowly from the passionate kiss, breathless yet connected. Your eyes meet, gazing into each other with a depth of love that words can never describe.

His eyes hold unwavering sincerity as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. "You've captured my heart in ways I can't fully express," he confesses, his voice filled with affection. "And if you'll allow me, I want to show you every day how deeply I love you."

A deep blue blush tints your cheeks as you struggle to find the right words to respond. He doesn't seem to mind as a soft smile spreads across his face. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, adoring the tranquil moment between two souls.

Enjoying each other's presence and your newfound attraction and happiness, you spend the rest of the night hand in hand wandering around mindlessly, exchanging loving gazes, talking about everything and sweet nothing's at once like two fools in love.

"Do you remember that day?" You hear him ask cheerfully as his free hand wanders to the songcord attached to his loincloth. You follow his movement and your eyes widen as you recognize the dried petals, intricately woven into one of the beads. "It was so unconventional, going against tradition. Who has ever seen a girl giving a flower to a boy? No one. But you didn't care. You were true to yourself, and you gifted me your favorite flower, and it meant so much more than just a little gesture."

Taking aback by his words and the bittersweet memory you can't help but smile widely as you inspect his songcord but confusion grazes your face at the same time.

"Wait—What do you mean? Lo'ak told me it's your favorite flower."

"No, he told me it's your favorite."

"Well, it became my favorite after I learned that it's yours."

A boisterous laugh escapes him as he throws his head back, his chest almost vibrating, and it is so contagious that you can't help but join in, the air filled with heartfelt laughter.

"It's gonna cause quite a scandal, but Lo'ak definitely deserves a good punch when he wakes up." You laughed, knowing that he meant that half-heartedly.

He delicately cradles your hand back in his, your fingers intertwining as he brings them up, his lips softly brushing against your knuckles in a loving kiss. The touch sends a warmth through your body. 

"Speaking of scandals," you say sheepishly as you reluctantly let go of his hand, "maybe it's better not to enter our village hand in hand just yet?"

He chuckles at your suggestion.

"Maybe," he agrees, his eyes filled with adoration, his face leaning slightly forward, "Can I have one last kiss before that?"

You look at him challengingly, he mirrors your expression, a playful glint in his eyes, coming closer to your face. 

Your lips almost touching for the second time this night, you whisper, "Only if you catch me." 

With that, you run off, your heart blooming with excitement, and his laughter follows you through the enchanting forest as the sun rises, casting its warm rays across the sky, and you know that the future holds nothing but love for the both of you.

for anyone asking, neteyam does in fact catch you and gets his kiss(es) <3 thank you for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging 🤍 btw, what is your love language? 💕

[flashyfools]

months ago, while mindlessly scrolling through twitter, i came across an analysis of this particular panel from chapter 434 (i can’t remember who wrote the thread, i’m so sorry </3), and i really want to talk about it too.

(EDIT: original author of the thread is @goingbuggy!!! go check out their metas, they're amazing)

the thread was focusing on the way the speech bubble covers shanks's scar completely, and how it can be seen as a sign of vulnerability. oda is using shanks’s own words to hide his suffering, letting his physical scars be representative of his emotional ones, even though the event he’s talking about is completely unrelated to the way he got his scar.

in fact, we know shanks is not ashamed of the scar, since just a couple of pages after this one he mentions it directly as a way to start the conversation about blackbeard:

he doesn’t have a problem with the marking itself, it’s just used as a narrative device, a tool to highlight (in an extradiegetic way) his emotional wounds and the pain he always tries so hard to hide, in an effort to keep his usual composure.

the original author of the thread compared the panel from chapter 434 to another, way older one, from the very first chapter:

this takes place right after shanks loses his left arm to save luffy’s life. it’s obviously a very emotionally charged moment, which means the best thing to do would be showing a close-up of shanks’s reaction to everything that’s unfolding in front of him at that moment (luffy’s cries, or even his own reaction to his sacrifice). oda, however, chooses not to do that; instead, he hides half of shanks’s face, just like he did in chapter 434. the way the moment is portrayed tells the reader shanks is willing to hide his pain in an even deeper way than what he’s showing by smiling at luffy right after getting his arm chopped off.

it’s a great way to explain an important characteristic without stating it right away. it's a focal point of shanks's character: it's his way of showing luffy he cares about him and would much rather hide his suffering than pass it onto him, but it's also oda's way of conveying that shanks is much more vulnerable than what he allows himself to show.

having said that, the reason oda chose to bring back this framing in chapter 434 appears obvious: shanks misses buggy.

it’s plain to see, especially if we look at the whole page.

shanks tries so hard to act collected when talking about buggy, but it’s obvious that he’s hurting. his wording makes it clear he’s trying to detach from him (“that’s the end of it” + “rumors have it”); he acts like buggy doesn’t exist in his thoughts anymore, when it’s obvious he still does. he feels remorse, he regrets letting buggy go. he’s scared he might have been in the wrong. he knows he hurt buggy, but he desperately wishes he didn’t.

all of this weighs on him in a way he isn’t used to, so he locks these feelings up, thinking of them only in relation to something that happened in the past, and as so, stays in the past. he smiles while talking about him and buggy, but it’s a remorseful smile. he cuts the conversation short even though he vividly remembers what happened between them, and as he does so, his words hide the scar. he desperately tries to patch things up in his mind by exclusively clinging onto the good memories they share, but the remorse always creeps up on him. he always smiles when talking about buggy, even when he’s talking directly to him. but his smile always ends up looking sour.

this is exactly why i hate it when people say shanks doesn’t care about buggy. oda wouldn’t have given these panels so much depth if he didn’t want to show just how much shanks actually cares. even just the fact the panel we are focusing on directly mirrors a panel from the first chapter, one so important and impactful, should tell you everything you need to know.

buggy will always be shanks’s weakness. caring so much about someone when you’re a pirate of that caliber is difficult in itself, even more so when that someone is so far away from you now.

[youngsadlesbian]

WHO KNOWS WHO BETTER?

pairing: taylor swift x daughter!reader

summary: your mother decides to do a challenge for tiktok that ends with a revelation that leaves you very embarrassed.

a/n: another one, yay!! this is kind of based on true events because kristen stewart was my first celebrity crush. hope you like it <3

word count: 888

warnings: just fluff.

You should have known the moment Taylor walked into the living room with that mischievous grin that she was up to something.

"Alright," she announced dramatically, holding up a small whiteboard and a dry-erase marker like she was about to teach a class, "I have a brilliant idea for content."

You glanced up from the couch, barely paying attention as you scrolled through your phone. "Please tell me it's not another TikTok dance."

Taylor gasped in faux offense, placing a hand over her heart. "Excuse me, I’m fantastic at those. But no, this is something much better."

You raised an eyebrow. "Better than watching you try to renegade for the hundredth time?"

She ignored the jab, flopping down next to you. "I want to play Who Knows Who Better? It'll be cute. The fans will love it. Just a fun little video for TikTok."

You hesitated, trying to think of a way out of this. But the sparkle in her eye told you she wouldn’t let it go. And honestly, you kind of loved hanging out with her like this — the two of you in your cozy clothes, spending the afternoon goofing around.

"Fine," you sighed, setting your phone aside. "But if this ends up embarrassing me, I swear I'm blocking you."

Taylor beamed. "Deal. Now, go grab one of my cardigans. It’s practically a requirement for any Taylor Swift-related content."

A few minutes later, you sat cross-legged on the living room floor, swaddled in an oversized cardigan from Taylor’s Folklore merch. Your mom sat beside you, her hair in a loose bun, equally bundled up in sweats.

"Okay," she said, adjusting the camera on the tripod. "Ready?"

"Hit me."

Taylor held up the whiteboard, marker poised. "First question — What’s my favorite food?"

You didn't even hesitate. "Banana pancakes. Easy."

Taylor dropped her marker dramatically. "Come on! At least pretend to think about it."

You smirked. "I can’t help it if I pay attention."

Taylor mock-pouted as she scribbled a little point on your side of the whiteboard. "Fine. One for you."

The questions kept rolling — favorite color, biggest fear, favorite vacation spot. You nailed almost all of them.

"And next," Taylor said, a devilish glint in her eyes, "what’s my most embarrassing moment on stage?"

You laughed instantly. "When you tripped during Fearless and tried to pretend it was part of the choreography."

Taylor groaned. "Ugh, I still cringe. Why do you remember that so vividly?"

"Because you made me watch the video twenty times."

The questions kept the laughter going until Taylor glanced at the board, pretending to read the next one aloud.

“Alright,” she said nonchalantly, “here’s a good one — Who was your first celebrity crush?”

You froze.

Your grip tightened slightly on the tablet in your lap as you glanced at her, then back down. "Uh… I don’t think I have one."

Taylor raised an eyebrow. "Liar."

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to seem unfazed. "I'm serious."

She wasn’t buying it. "Come on. It’s not like I’m going to make fun of you. Was it Robert Pattinson? Zac Efron?"

You shook your head, trying not to laugh. "Nope."

Taylor studied your face carefully until something seemed to click. Her eyes widened, and suddenly she gasped.

"Oh my God. It’s Kristen Stewart, isn’t it?"

Your face burned instantly.

Taylor cackled so loudly that you were afraid the neighbors might hear. She doubled over, clutching her stomach as if it was the funniest thing she’d heard in years.

"Stop laughing!" you groaned, hiding your face behind the tablet.

"I knew it!" Taylor pointed dramatically. "You watched Twilight way too many times to pretend otherwise!"

"I liked the story!"

Taylor practically wheezed, tapping the board. "Sure, sure. But we both know it wasn’t Edward or Jacob you cared about. You were all about Bella Swan."

You couldn’t help but laugh, finally giving in. "Fine! Yes. It was Kristen Stewart. Happy now?"

Taylor wiped a tear from her eye, still giggling. "Oh, I'm so happy. This is gold."

\*/

The TikTok took off instantly. Fans flooded the comments, laughing at Taylor’s reaction and teasing you relentlessly.

But later that evening, as the sun set and you both sat on the porch, the mood shifted to something softer.

Taylor sipped her tea, glancing over at you thoughtfully. "You know… I wasn’t just joking earlier."

You looked up from your phone. "About what?"

"You can tell me anything," she said gently. "You know that, right?"

You gave her a small smile, fiddling with the sleeve of your cardigan. "I know. It’s just… hard sometimes."

Taylor nodded, understanding flickering across her face. "I get it. I was your age once too, believe it or not."

You chuckled. "Yeah, back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth."

She nudged you with her shoulder. "Watch it."

After a pause, Taylor wrapped her arm around your shoulders. "Whenever you do feel ready to tell me more… I’ll be here."

You leaned into her warmth, letting out a soft sigh. "Thanks, Mom."

Taylor squeezed your arm. "In the meantime, I reserve the right to tease you about Kristen Stewart forever."

You laughed. "Fair enough."

And as the sky faded into hues of pink and gold, you realized that moments like this — the teasing, the laughter, the quiet understanding — were the ones you’d cherish most.

[imaredshirt]

Post Weirdmageddon, Stanley continues to recover his memories. It's a gradual process, one that he sometimes gets frustrated with, but he's surrounded with a support system of friends and family that are more than happy to help.

Every so often, Stanford checks in with Fiddleford, who's a few steps ahead of Stanley in the memory recovery process and is an invaluable resource of knowledge and helpful tips. The fact that he invented the memory gun also helps, of course, and although he won't ever rebuild the thing, he has been studying the old one and just how it affects the mind.

During these calls between old friends/colleagues, Fiddleford will casually ask after Stanley's progress and general wellbeing, and Stanford will relay a summary of Stanley's most recent recovered memories.

One day over the phone, Fiddleford says, "So we know Stanley's recovered much of his childhood memories, some of his early twenties, and he's able to recall quite a bit of the past several years. Has he, ah, mentioned anything 'bout his time in the '80s? When he first started runnin the Mystery Shack and workin on the portal?"

"Not that I know of," Stanford answers. "I'll ask the kids. If he's mentioned anything to them, then Dipper's already added it to his notes." He frowns. "Should we be worried that he hasn't recalled anything from that period in his life, yet?"

"No, no," Fiddleford says. "At least, I don't think so. This all seems to be a sort of non-linear recovery process. Sorta like a stack o' cards that's fallen on the floor all mixed up and on top of each other, and he's pickin up the ones on the top layer, completely outta order. For all we know, this could be the card he picks up last." He pauses and clears his throat. "But if he does start mentioning anythin from that time - anythin at all from events to sensory memories or, uh, people - you be sure to let me know. I'd like to add it to my notes."

He sounds almost too casual. Stanford doesn't want to doubt his friend after all this time, but he vividly remembers what Fiddleford sounds like when he's trying to be sneaky, and he sounds like it right now. So much as he doesn't want to be, Stanford's suspicious.

He's just not quite sure what to be suspicious of.

He files the suspicion away for later. "You got it, old buddy."

"Well alrighty then! I'll call again tomorrow to check on today's progress. And why don't you order him an egg and sausage omelet from Greasy's? The one with all that cheese on top - but no mushrooms. He hates those. His favorite foods might jog his memories a bit."

Stanford blinks. "We were actually thinking of doing that. But how do you -?"

Fiddleford hangs up.

Stanford's still blinking at the phone, frowning, when Stanley walks up behind him.

"Hey, who was that?" Stanley asks. "Why do you look like someone just gave you a math problem you can't solve?"

"There are very few of those left in the universe," Stanford says, only half joking, and smiles when Stanley rolls his eyes, chuckling.

"Yeah, yeah, my brother the genius - whatever. Look, since you're on the phone already, why dontcha call up Fidds and tell him to pick up some pizza. If the kids are hungry, then you know I'm starving."

"Alright, but no broccoli pizza this time, I --" Stanford freezes. "Wait. Fidds?"

"Yeah, he's not in the shack or out back, so he's gotta be out in town, right?"

There's only one person that "Fidds" can be, but Stanford hasn't heard anyone use Fiddleford's nickname since college. He raises an eyebrow at Stanley, who's relaxing back in his recliner.

"Fidds, Stanley?"

"Yeah," Stanley says, raising an eyebrow back at his brother. "You know, your nerdy buddy? Scrawny guy with an accent? Helped me out with the portal right after you got stuck in it--"

"What?" Stanford's never heard about this. From either of them.

Stanley goes on, "Can't fight off a gnome to save his life but builds a giant crazy gnome robot anyway - whaat? Why're you looking at me like that?" Stanley sits up and his confusion becomes anger, almost startling Stanford out of his shocked state. "What, now that I'm getting all these memories back, you're uncomfortable?"

Stanford has no idea what he's talking about. "What? Uncomfortable with what?"

"With your college buddy shacking up with your twin brother," Stanley snaps. "We've been together for years. Maybe you should get over it, huh?"

"Get over it?" Stanford's reeling. Fiddleford's strangeness suddenly makes sense. "Stanley, I would never - I would accept you however you - I'm not straight, either, you know, and - wait." He holds up one hand and pinches the bridge of his nose with the other. "Before we even get into that - WHAT?"

Stanley blinks. "What??"

"You - you and - when did you-" Stanford throws his hands in the air. "He doesn't live here!"

"What?" Stanley snorts. "Yeah he does. I told him to move in."

"When?"

"Back in the '80s," Stanley says. "I just started remembering this morning. Where's be been, anyway? Why hasn't he been doing nerdy shit with you in the lab lately?"

Stanford's leaning against the sofa's armrest, mind racing. He answers distractedly, "We haven't been in the lab together since before you came to Gravity Falls, Stanley."

"Bull. You expect me to believe you two aren't cooking up some science project already?"

"Stanley..."

"What," Stanley says. Then he grins. "Are you the one with messed up memories now or what? Jeez, I got a better memory than my genius brother - and I've been hit with the memory gun twice!"

"Twice?" Stanford turns a sharp look on his brother. "What do you mean, twice?"

"Yeah. That one time when you used it on me, and then back in the '90s when Fidds . . ."

Stanley trails off. He blinks and then frowns, gaze falling to the floor as he mutters, "Back when Fidds . . . when he used it on me the first time, and. . ."

Realization dawns on them both at once, and Stanley looks at Stanford with an odd mix of emotions.

"Stanley," Stanford says in an effort to calm him. "What exactly do you remember of-"

"Who cares!" Stanley jumps to his feet, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "He used that thing on me! When I told him not to - when I asked - begged -" Stanley punches the wall and glares at the splinters littering his knuckles. His voice is shaking. "After everything we went through - he just took off 'cause he was, what, scared? Do you have any idea how much I've forgotten? Who knows if I'm gonna remember any of it? I didn't want him to leave! And after he did and used the gun, I - I was so broken and angry I didn't know why, couldn't remember why--"

With a growl, Stanley grabs the car keys from the little bowl by the TV and stomps towards the front door. "Get in the car. I've got a bone to pick with your old college buddy."

Stanford grabs his journal and hurries after his brother, calling for the kids as they head to the car. They're all likely going to be at Fiddleford's new mansion for some time.

He certainly has a bit of explaining to do.

[ouiouimochi]

Once upon a dream

pairing/s: soshiro hoshina x reader

genre/s: fluff, romance, strangers (?) to lovers

wc: 1.9k

warning/s: use of honorifics, oonga boonga words, no beta we die like men, unintentional hoshino (hoshina fan from kaiju relax) slander, me and my unnecessary comments >:)), okay hoshina might be ooc-,

note/s: reader wears glasses and is a romantic, so like this was yet again done in different days and times so there could be inconsistencies, inspired by my dream and today’s art class funnily enough

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“—no doubt that I’d be brought back to you”

You had awakened yet again with a fuzzy feeling, quickly followed by emptiness when reality had sunken in. Every time leaving you with the want of just staying in your whimsical dreamscape— something deep down whispering for you to remain in the state of slumber forever in hopes to never ever be separated from the man in your dreams.

You didn't know him at all— a complete stranger that brought out a sense of familiarity. You can vividly remember every damndest detail from the events that took place and could easily recall everything from start to finish but not the man’s identity for some reason. You could remember his frame, silhouette, voice, and hair… but his face remained blank in your memories despite the frequency of these rendezvous.

Unable to keep to your own thoughts, you wrote the paragraphs that did more than encapsulate your feelings. With words, you built up the most enchanting castle made out of daydreams, blooming gardens of vivid emotions, a blanket of twinkling stars that held each and every wish you had— everything that one can describe straight out from fantasy. Your readers felt themselves be whisked away into the rabbit hole of your phantasms, indistinguishably blurring the line between reality and dreams.

Now, you've already made yourself a bit well-known despite being an anonymous writer under the pen name of Somni Vespera. Your alias encompassing the content of your writing— dreamy, surreal, whimsical… as if straight out of a fantasy. A modern day Salvador Dali with the pen. And this work in particular blew up quite quickly after release, greatly worrying you in regards to your anonymity, but you were able to thankfully keep your identity hidden.

In certain writing forums and communities,

readridreed882: Somni’s latest work is just *chef’s kiss*

ehEEhEE: God, how does somni do it???

1gorjusgojo: i gotta wonder where they’d been getting these ideas from though… they just feel so unreal

paragraph_palace: Unreal yeah, but fleetingly romantic

meepysheep: do they have a muse???

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As a fan of literature itself, your works did not pass by the radar of Soshiro Hoshina— if anything, someone can say he was a fan. His eyes continued to scan lines and lines of your latest writing again and again to make sure he wasn't imagining it. He was troubled with how your storytelling beyond perfectly emulated the feelings, sentiments, and experiences he had the past few months. He observed the parallels between his own dreamscape encounters and your paragraphs— a multitude of them utterly aligned.

The man wanted to contact the author to get answers to his questions, to confirm his suspicions. However, it seems impossible to do so when the said writer themself chose to stay hidden, so he can only be disappointed and settle to conclude that it was just one big coincidence.

But deep down, his heart yearned— doubting that it was just a coincidence no matter how irrational it made him seem. The ever so calm and collected vice captain of the Third Division found himself haunted by the same feeling every slumbering and waking moments.

and he never wanted it to stop.

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The sound of a tinkling bell echoes throughout the quaint cafe as you open the door. Your senses were greeted by the refreshing smell of coffee and freshly baked pastries, eyes soothed by the muted and minimalistic visuals of the interior. There was quite a bit of a line so you also queued yourself up, your eyes bringing itself up to the big menu behind the counter. However, something caught your attention first— an oh so familiar hairstyle that you've well memorized. The more you stared, the more you immediately doubted it was the mystery man in your dreams.

However, there was an itch telling you that maybe it was him despite confidently saying it can't be him. You were stuck observing this male, any outsider would’ve immediately noticed the intensity of your gaze if they do as much as take a glimpse. The man takes his place at the front of the line to get his order taken, your ears strained to try listening for his voice but unsuccessful in doing so. You waited for a while until he started to move, he turned around.

Who could blame you for immediately displaying an expression of disappointment? You really tried to hold back a grimace but failed— hopefully no one was watching you at the moment. The man who had the exact same hairstyle as the man in your dreams… looked like a man in his late 30’s. Now, you were quite the judge at times, and you criticized even yourself, but you wanted to facepalm at your stupidity. Okay fine, the man in your dream was faceless, but oh lord— he was not the one.

There were plenty of differences aside from… the face… like the height, build, and silhouette keep telling yourself that jk. You were right the first time, it was just the stupid little daydreamer in you wanting it to be him.

You might write the greatest and unrealistic of fantasies— but you admit you need to keep your delulu delusions in check.

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Kafka and Kikoru were people on a mission: to snap a photo of Vice Captain Hoshina with his eyes open. Now, the young blond didn't even know how she got dragged into this, but thanks to the old man— here she was. She thought of how stupid this was, how utterly dumb and absolutely brain-numbing it was… but she also thought how fun it'd be.

Scratch that, it was entirely idiotic of a notion to try and get the vice captain to open his eyes with the strategies Kafka came up with. Here they were in a cafe with yet another plan curated by the older male from Operations Manager Okonogi’s suggestion.

“This is stupid, we've tried a lot already!” she finally snapped, wanting to just leave the camera to the older male.

“Relax! This was from Okonogi-san who knew the Vice Captain for quite a while already…” even the ravenette sounded unsure of himself as he tried to convince the younger female.

Kikoru becomes irked, making the older male turn around to completely bicker with him. They were both unaware of their surroundings as their vice captain only amusedly watched on but unable to hear their conversation. The blonde becomes too preoccupied with arguing with the ravenette that it becomes too late for her to notice she was pushing the older male to bump into an unsuspecting person.

You fall forward and onto the tiled floor when an unexpected force collides with your back. You were not mad— if anything you were worried about the heat of every onlooker’s gaze on your fallen form. You couldn't see very well when your glasses also fell off— you were beyond embarrassed trying to pat around the ground for it.

“Here.” A voice with a soothing timbre echoed into your ears. The sound alone sends a subtle shiver down your spine with how comforting it was— just like the one you hear in your dreams. A hand offered itself in front of your face so you placed yours tentatively on top. The person then hoisted you up back on your feet as you patted yourself down for any dust. The person held out an object in your direction for you to take— it was your glasses.

Your head shot up to look at the slightly blurry figure of a male in front of you— a familiar one. You blink to try and discern more details before deciding to slip on your frames. While everything finally cleared, your eyes immediately locked into the rich burgundy orbs perfectly situated on a finely sculpted face framed by the recognizable hairstyle.

Time and reality paused and ceased to exist at that specific moment. A flash of recognition passed by both of your dumbstruck expressions as a magnetizing force seemed to pull you closer to each other— to fit into the other’s final piece. Despite only having met him now and not wanting to assume, you were sure that it was him this time around— your mysterious dream guy. It seemed like he recognized you too.

“I'm sorry… but have we met before?” your voice managed to find itself to question this male with the most captivating presence.

Hoshina blinked but did not break his gaze from yours, his eyes crinkled a bit in mirth with a charming smile on his lips.

“I don't think so but I believe yer' the woman of my dreams” fuckign screaming atm his accent managed to leak out. Literally—days and nights, no matter how short. When he closed his eyes, he was always greeted by the loveliest sights and treated to the most wonderful of experiences his reality couldn't offer. The weirdest was he vividly remembers every little detail without fail after awakening— the feeling of the rain, the freshly cut blades of grass, the soft hands holding his own, the smile that gave him indescribable warmth. Every waking moment entailed being filled with emotions he was sure he wouldn't feel in his entire life due to the nature of his job. but here he was, feeling the exact same fondness as he was faced with the oh so familiar stranger he made memories with in what he thought were just fantasies.

You bit your lip, trying to stop the smile creeping up your lips. Wanting to confirm, you started uttering the promise that remained constant in all of your dreams,

“When the blossoms are shed to start anew…” you tried to remain steady in your locked gazes, crossing your fingers to allow fate to give its blessings. A few moments beat by, your heart thumping in your ears as this man’s mouth opened slightly in surprise. Your hope started to diminish with every ticking second, until he uttered the very words you wanted to hear.

“..no doubt that I’d be brought back to you”

Your heart was about to burst with how quickly it pumped blood into flushing your cheeks with a healthy glow when you smiled so earnestly at the technically still a stranger man. He reciprocates, your enthusiasm was quite contagious.

“Soshiro Hoshina, m’ lady” he gently took one of your hands to bring it up to his lips, a giggle escaping your own pair. Everything was practically falling into place even if it seemed strange to an outsider's perspective.

“(Y/n) (L/n),” you switched your hands’ position to rest his on top of yours before kissing the back of it, responding in kind to his earlier gesture, “Great to meet you.”

I tried

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Unbeknownst to you two, Kikoru and Kafka were just gawking the whole time. Both of them wanted to profusely apologize immediately after realizing what they’d done, but their vice captain beat them into offering the fallen person help. Everything got stuck at the back of their throats as they witnessed everything, absolutely stunned. The young blonde blushing at watching something that felt… intimate.

But they unfortunately completely missed out on the opportunity to snap the picture for the mission. Guess the Tachikawa Base would be welcoming two new additions of people with the vice captain’s bowl cut.

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taglist bbs: @ryescapades (mwa for helping me decide), @justwinginglife, @iamjellyfish,

notes: funny how I initially wrote it like they remained on the floor the whole time this shit happened until I had to revise it, yes welcome to delulu where the outside world just doesn't exist anymore ehe (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠). also feel dumb for only discovering the thing that makes the font size smaller just now *facepalm*

[askthekoopsandjr]

Ludwig von Koopa (Head)canons

Cunning, conniving, and classy; this is the surface level of the pompous prodigy we all know and love... or hate. Here's everything you need to know about him to familiarize yourself with my story.

G͟e͟n͟e͟r͟a͟l͟ I͟n͟f͟o͟r͟m͟a͟t͟i͟o͟n͟

18 years old.

- Very important to note: Dragon Koopas do not age the same as humans. It is unknown how they age in equivalence to humans, but the adult age for dragon koopas is their early 30's. Dragon koopas can live for several centuries. The maximum years of life is unknown.

Transgender man, he/him. Gay, asexual, and amicusromantic.

-Transitioned after his 13th birthday. Chose the name Ludwig, loving the high end and fancy sound of it.

Is autistic and completely deaf. Uses hearing aids designed by Iggy to hear.

Ludwig has always been attracted to men, but after transitioning he went through a short period of "now being attracted to girls", because everyone has to be straight, right? Lmao it took a conversation with Kamek to clear that up.

- (P.S. Everyone in my story is asexual because "it"™ doesn't exist haha)

Eldest of the 7 koopalings

- All are biological siblings, born to the late Morton Koopa Sr. and Adaeh Koopa

Self proclaimed leader of the Koopalings. His siblings do not agree with this notion, reminding him that they're a team.

Adopted by Bowser, along with his siblings, at 12 years old

It is unkown exactly how his parents died, but he vividly remembers that fateful day.

- He has uncomplicated PTSD formed from this event. He doesn't currently receive therapy (yet)

Here's the whole story about that:

All creatures in the Mario world... the Underground whatever it's called have all the races/ethnicities of humans. Ludwig and his siblings are German and British from their father, and South African from their Mother.

C͟h͟a͟r͟a͟c͟t͟e͟r͟

Of course, Ludwig is a lil bitch at heart. He's snooty, snarky, sarcastic, stubborn, bossy and arrogant... You get it. Buuuuut! He's not completely terrible and unpleasant. He has a certain persona he puts on when in the face of the general public. He's the GREAT and POWERFUL Ludwig von Koopa, he has a reputation to uphold! However; those who get the rare chance to know him outside of work and royalties will notice he's actually much more lively. He's witty, likes to make bad puns, and LOOOOVES to gossip for hours (whether good or bad) on end.

He usually favors the sound of his own voice, but he's a good listener at times, too!

As you might already know, Ludwig is a total drama queen and lives for theatrics. This means he will show off at any given chance, and act super extra. Think of Rarity from MLP having one of her "moments".

As he stated in Bowser Jr.'s Journey, he never backs down from a fight or challenge. This is driven by his insatiable need to prove himself and pride.

He used to beat himself up pretty bad when losing a fight or challenge, but has gotten a lot better at accepting defeat or trying not to be too upset about it. Take his loss to Mario in Color Splash as an example of him humbling himself and accepting defeat- but also take his loss to Waluigi in the 2020 Olympic Games as how he can still get upset.

He knows he can't be the very best at everything... but that doesn't mean he can't be in the top 5, y'know? So even if he is humbled after losing and embarassing himself, that only means he'll work twice as hard to perfect his skills for next time. I'll get you next time, He-Man...

Speaking of perfection, Ludwig is very knowledgeable and has seemingly endless talents. He can play over 200 instruments, excels in acting, is a surprisingly good singer and painter, and is very well educated in general studies. While wanting to be the very best certainly plays a part in why he's so ambitious, the main reason is because he simply loves learning and doing.

- He owns Ludwig Painting as seen in Mario Kart. His company is in charge of giving each kart their exterior paint job.

Time for a secret... Ludwig has always been an eager student, but has intensified to who is today because of the loss of his parents. Being the oldest, he believed it was his sole responsibility to care for his siblings. He would not allow the destruction and death from before to ever happen again. Once being taken in by Bowser, he quickly introduced himself to the luxurious resources around him to begin a journey of scholarship that still continues to this day.

Kamek was the one who gave the 7 of them their wands. This was not the first time Ludwig was introduced to magic, however. His mother was a sort of "earthy" witch, knowing how to mix up various potions and natural remedies, which she taught Ludwig. To hold a staff of power capable of virtually anything he could dream of, Ludwig chose magic to be his "major". Kamek would personally teach Ludwig magic beyond what he would teach his siblings, since Ludwig was the one who insisted so badly.

- Ludwig might have the strongest magic of his siblings, but don't let that trick you into thinking he's the strongest of them all. Usually, his showboating leads to his downfall.

As his siblings grew older (and with the help of Kamek to talk some sense into him), Ludwig stopped thinking it was his sole responsibility to take care of them. They didn't really want/need that kind of help from him anymore, and it was a bit frustrating to get that through his head.

Beneath those tough scales, Ludwig really does have a heart. He can be kind, and he likes to show affection. It's actually a lot easier to get along with him than it seems, so long as you have patience and don't let his self-absorption bother you too much.

Speaking of affection, he's not ashamed or afraid to let others know that he cares for them. It won't really show when he's engaged in battle, but find him in the castle on an eventless day and you'd see him acting like a normal big brother.

You'd think he'd want to be ruler of the Dark Lands, but that's not actually the case. He deeply cares for Jr. and knows he has great potential- hence why he's always trying to teach and point him in the right direction.

- Let's talk more on what Ludwig likes to do for himself: -

Ludwig takes excellent care of himself. He has an intricate routine for keeping himself radiant every single day (like scale exfoliation, etc). Every night, he puts his hair in curlers and wears a purple silk bonnet. He loves feeling physically fulfilled and looking his best.

His hair is his greatest pride. It's thick, reverently fluffy and voluminous. It's beauty brings him great happiness.

- His hair is naturally curly. It gets that shape from the curls. If you ran your fingers through it, you could feel the texture.

He is more than happy to tell you all about hair care and give you a few tips

He loves frills, hence why he wears that jabot all the time.

He loves to paint outside in the sun. He isn't too good at drawing, so he usually paints scenery and other things that require abstract shapes. He never sketches on the canvas prior to the paint.

This is so obvious, but it should be said anyway; music is his driving force and passion. He only has 5 officially published original works, but has so, so many more unpublished. He creates at a rather fast pace, so he decides to hold back on releasing them until he "feels" it's the right time. He has published many covers of existing songs, though.

- It was his dad that taught him how to play music and his mom who taught him how to sing. The first instrument he ever played was the piano, hence why it's his favorite.

Ludwig experiments with his music. Yes, classical is his favorite and what he's best at, but his passion is music as a whole. He's even dipped his feet in some alternative genres! It's death metal, heavy metal and the stuff Larry listens to (hyperpop, gabba, speedcore etc) that he can't stand.

- Since meeting Suzuka, he's been trying to be more accepting of the rock genres that he loves. He won't want to listen to it, but will support Suzie's decisions and even help him write his music sometimes (as long as it's not the "heavy" parts)

Before meeting Suzie, Ludwig didn't write much poetry, but as it turns out, he's fairly good at it! He and Suzie like to leave suprise love poems lying around for the other to find.

- He may have or may not have left ominous riddle poems lying around to mess with his siblings...

Ludwig is a pretty good cook and baker. He doesn't normally make the meals, since Bowser has employees for that; but if the chefs were ever unavailable, he wouldn't be lost. He likes to joke that he could easily replace the chefs based on his experience of making food for all his siblings. He usually says that to the head chef, because it amuses him to get under their skin.

- The head chef usually gets pissed at this joke, attempting to throw spices and utensils at Ludwig to get him out of the kitchen.

Ludwig loves the theater. He will go to every new show in any kingdom, even if it's in the Mushroom Kingdom. He knows that Mario will be breathing down his neck, but he likes to annoy him and act like he's never done any wrong and act offended at Mario's accusations that he would try to sabotage the show.

- Lemmy usually tags along, as he loves theater too.

Quality time is a must for Ludwig. He likes to hang out with his siblings individually, then all together. As much as he would like to have one-on-one time with Jr., it nearly never happens because the heir is preoccupied with his dad, Kamek, school, and learning to be a prince. He did at least get to teach him to dance once, though. (end credits of Bowser Jr.'s Journey)

- Quality time with Suzie is a whole 'nother story. The two don't spend much time apart.

R͟e͟l͟a͟t͟i͟o͟n͟s͟h͟i͟p͟s͟

Ludwig loves all of his siblings equally. The ones he loves are the most important thing in the world to him. His deepest fear is losing his loved ones.

With Iggy: Ludwig often gets annoyed by Iggy's lack of seriousness and class, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy Iggy's company. They both share the insatiable hunger for knowledge, love of science and robotics. They get along very well because guess what? They're both cuckoo insane! I honestly think Lud is crazier than Iggy! Iggy knows how to make Ludwig laugh, no matter what kind of day he's had. Iggy is also a very touch affectionate koopa, so she'll often do this thing where he'll just stand behind Ludwig and rest her head on top of Lud's hair because it's funny. Iggy also manages to steal a hug at least once a day. And often pranks Ludwig with a joke very often. Hey Ludwig wanna get up dog what's up dog not much what's up with you

With Morton: Ludwig almost never gets mad or annoyed with Morton on his own. Morton likes to talk a lot when spoken to and is a very good listener, so Ludwig enjoys having long conversations with him. Ludwig likes to bake with Morton as well, since they both share the interest. He tried to teach Morton how to cook once, but never again after his hair was almost burned off. The two also share an interest in music, so Ludwig will use Morton as a critique when writing new pieces. Ludwig is also more than glad to serve as a listener to Morton when he wants to speak, and serve as feedback for Morton's very long fictional stories.

With Roy: Ludwig is very patient with Roy's short temper and aggressive nature- maybe because he simply doesn't want to get his ass kicked, or maybe he's just used to it by now. He's not often prone to being hit by Roy, given that he would get him back with a nasty magic trick. Roy usually picks on Ludwig verbally (the usual insults you hear about him. It's pretty funny). Regardless, he does not look down on Roy. When you're not looking, he'll smile at Roy's wisecracks and silly nature. Ever since Roy has taken his studies more seriously, Ludwig listens to him more often and ask for his opinion when on missions. Roy will actually ask Ludwig for homework help more often than you'd think. Ludwig is always more than willing, as teaching others is actually something Ludwig loves to do. Ludwig wishes he could show Roy a bit of affection, but we all know Roy's not a fan of that.

With Wendy: Ludwig and Wendy are the young and cunty Statlor and Waldorf. They have mad gossip and drama to share at all times, and confide in each other with their deepest secrets. Wendy actually transitioned shortly after Ludwig, which was the start of the closeness they still share today. They love giving each other make-overs and shopping together. Ludwig enjoys asking Wendy to put on a magic ring show for him, as he doesn't know how to use magical objects very well, such as her bracelets. He loves how graceful yet powerful she is. He considers asking Kamek to teach him how to do something like that at times. Ludwig is the one who taught Wendy how to style hair, despite having none of her own, so that he could ask her to do his. He secretly enjoys when others play with his hair, but trusts very few to actually touch it.

With Lemmy: Ludwig will act like he doesn't care for Lemmy's silly theatrics and clowny behavior, but actually very much enjoys it. He loves Lemmy's individuality and how he brings it forth to the spotlight wherever he is. As I mentioned before, Ludwig brings Lemmy along whenever he goes to the theater. Both enjoy sharing artistic ideas and even collaborating, whether it be on a stage-play or a painting. Ludwig wouldn't admit to this, but he is secretly awed by Lemmy's natural emotional maturity. He often thinks about asking Lemmy for advice or just having him as someone to talk to about his anxieties and fears, but never does because Lemmy is still rather young. He imagines confiding in his younger brother about these things one day, when he's older. (Here's another secret... Ludwig actually likes the circus.)

With Larry: Larry is the one Ludwig parents the most. Outside of missions for Bowser, Ludwig keeps a careful eye on his youngest sibling. That's a lot harder said than done, though; Larry is a hyper-energetic kid who's always wanting to do his own thing. Ludwig is constantly trying to teach Larry everything he can learn- which he's done a pretty good job with!- but keeps pushing Larry to do more and more, which frustrates and confuses the youngest. Ludwig just wants to ensure the youngest has everything he could ever need in life, but he comes off as though he's not proud of him sometimes. That is 100% not the case, but Ludwig is letting his fears and anxiety get the best of him. They do get along well, though. Larry enjoys playing with Ludwig, and typically succeeds in bringing out the elder's inner child. They have that special big-bro-little-bro bond.

💜 With Suzuka: Suzuka is Ludwig's one and only. He knew there was something special about him from the first time they met. They've been going steady for almost a year, and their love for one another just keeps growing. Ludwig will spend every second of his time with Suzie if he can help it. The two often indulge and collaborate on musical works and teach each other new things. Both koopas are well associated with the other's family, and frequent activities with them (such as dinner, helping out with chores, etc). Ludwig is usually the first to initiate physical affection, but both equally enjoy cuddling with each other at any time.

- Lore time... From the second time they met, he was drawn in even further after working together to help Iggy's stupid newest invention from destroying the jungle world (it's a long story). Suzie was smart, sweet and so unintentionally charismatic that Ludwig knew he had to forge a formal friendship with him. He thought it would be smooth sailing from there... But there was actually a small bump in the road. Ludwig was horrified that Suzie's favorite genre of music was metal (More specifically j-metal but to Ludwig it's all the same)! This actually upset Ludwig for a while, and he was not shy to share his opinions with Suzie. Suzie just went :3. He respected Ludwig's opinion, and it's not like he was unfamiliar with hatred towards rock genres as it was lol. Like the drama queen he is, Ludwig tried to distance himself, but Suzie just kept coming around... And played some classical on the piano to get him to come around. Which totally worked. And wooed Luddy for the first time. So Ludwig decided he would try to grow as a person (or Koopa??) for Suzie. He was way too special to ditch over something silly. The months would pass, the feelings would grow, and we end up at Christmas. With the holiday spirit in the air, Ludwig finds he can't keep it a secret anymore and confesses to Suzie. The two have been going steady ever since!

F͟u͟n͟ F͟a͟c͟t͟s͟

Ludwig is a big foodie, with a heavy preference for sweets. He would autistically explain to you the history behind a dish and how it should be made/served

He went completely deaf at some point when he was 14. No one is sure how or why. He used typical hearing aids for a while, until Iggy devised his own pair that Ludwig could wear 24/7 without causing discomfort. They are charged by geothermal energy. If Ludwig happens upon a place where the heat from the Earth cannot easily reach up to the surface (for example somewhere very cold), the hearing aids will go into manual charge mode and have 24 hours of battery.

While Ludwig didn't had a partner before Suzuka, he did go on some dates in the past. Maybe 5 or 6? [I'm undecided lmao] They were all boys of higher class or with some title to their name from neighboring kingdoms, with the exception of one who was a Koopa troop guard in training. Ludwig doesn't really talk to them anymore, but would say hello if running into them.

His tail will wag when he's feeling affection for someone. Hugging a sibling? Little tail wags. Snuggling Suzie? Big tail wags. You get it

Is a total romantic. Will do the corniest things but look good doing it because of his talents in music and acting. He enjoys showing pda, usually through hand holding or keeping his partner close to his side at all times.

His favorite play is probably The Phantom of the Opera

He resonates with victorian goth

Claims to be ruthless, but has anyone actually ever seen him display such intense behavior that went beyond words?

- Even so, he does get a bit cuckoo at times. It may be a result of neurosis.

He actually doesn't use hairspray or gel

Of the siblings with hair, he's been able to teach Larry and Lemmy how to do theirs

He's fairly easy to annoy. It makes for fun pranks and jokes to pull on him

As stated in Bowser Jr.'s Journey, he's quite good at lying, deceiving, and negotiating. You may wanna be cautious around him.

It's really not that hard to make friends with Ludwig. It's just very dependent on the circumstances under which you meet.

[authorhjk1]

Doctor's Orders

Kim Bora and Kim Yoohyeon X Male Reader

This isn't what you agreed to. Not at all.

After the long flight, you only want to relax. Ahin left Paris two days earlier than you, having to attend a fashion show and some other scheduled events. While walking through the airport, you picked up two gorgeous women. It was surprisingly easy. Although you now start to realize that the older one might have picked you up. She was very straight forward to say the least. And even when the younger one, who seemed a little shy, suggested the roleplay stuff, you still agreed.

You sigh as you look around the "waiting room". What did your horniness get you into now?

The place is clean, and a couple of chairs have been set up around the living room. On the table is standing a glass of water, which you got after making an "appointment" at the front desk. Front desk? More like their kitchen counter.

The younger girl disappeared after handing you the glass. She walked into the room on your left. The other woman took the room further down the hall. You don't know how long you have been sitting here now. 10 minutes, in which nothing happened.

You shake your head in disbelief. Why do you always fall for this kind of stuff? You are really glad that you don't have many female business partners. They would all use this to their advantage. You feel like, since you came to Korea, your need for sex has drastically increased. And you doubt it's because of the different climate.

"Mr (l/n)?"

You look up from your phone, seeing the young brunette step out of her room. Her cute, innocent face is quickly replaced by a mischievous one as she bites her lip, looking at your rolled up sleeves which expose your forearms.

"Please come in for your appointment."

"Thank you."

You are still not really sure how to react. This isn't an actual visit to the doctor. Usually a nurse would show you to the doctor's room, not the doctor herself. You remember the argument the two girls had over this topic vividly. They both wanted to be the doctor desperately, because a doctor is more sexy than a nurse in their eyes. At the end, they both decided to be doctors.

"Please have a seat, Mr (l/n)."

You sit down on the small operating table aka one of their desks, which has been cleared of their stuff. The hard wooden surface is covered with a blanket and a pillow, so your back won't hurt as bad after a while.

The young brunette sits down in a chair in front of you.

"Our nurse told me, you have certain difficulties."

She bites her finger after talking, glancing at your lap.

"Yeah."

You still have to get used to this. Roleplay was never really your thing.

"Would you like to elaborate?"

It feels kinda weird to say it out loud. But the way the young brunette looks at you, makes you cooperate. Her body is worth participating in this stuff.

"I-I have a problem with my...."

You subtly point at your lap.

"Oh. I see."

She gives you a sweet smile. The older girl told you to be a like a shy patient. You hope you are doing well.

"I-I can't stop cuming."

"What do you mean?"

As if she is listing to a really interesting story, the Korean girl rests her chin on her hand.

"Everytime I see a beautiful woman, I have to... You know?"

You try to look embarrassed, which honestly isn't very hard right now.

"Is there anything else?"

Of course there is. The older girl told you what to say.

"I-I cum too much. The last time I slept with my girlfriend, she almost drowned in it."

"Is that so?"

The brunette leans back in fake surprise. Your cheeks become red, not because you are shy, but because of the exaggeration.

"Why don't you lay down for now and I will take a look?"

"A-Are you sure?"

"Of course. I'm a doctor after all."

You lay down on the table, before watching her walk closer.

"You said you do that, whenever you see a beautiful woman, right?"

Although she sounds kinda professional, you do hear her curious undertone.

"What about right now? Do you have the urge to...?"

She still gives you a sweet smile, but her hand is doing one particular motion. You hesitate, trying to find out, what would turn her on the most.

"Don't be shy, you can tell me."

Dr. Kim puts her hand on your chest as she stands next to you.

"I'm your doctor."

Of course you would. But you wouldn't stop there. You would pull that white coat off her shoulders, and make her lie down herself. The open coat shows more than a doctor would usually accept. The knitted crop top underneath is see through alright. Her black bra is holding her breasts, which seem to be perfect handfuls.

She slightly leans over your face. Her exposed midriff looks like a work of art. You almost reach out to touch her tummy. You wonder what it would look like, if you would cum on her.

(Author's note: Don't mind the ears.😅)

"I-I do."

You finally answer. Yoohyeon's eyes visibly darken with lust.

"You think I am pretty?"

As if she has done this a hundred times, her hand reaches out for the zipper of your jeans.

"You are gorgeous."

"Come on. Please stay professional."

She gives you another sweet smile. The fact that her toned midriff is a little closer to your face now, didn't escape your notice.

Kim Yoohyeon slowly pulls your pants down. They are still around your thighs, but she is already hooking her slim fingers underneath the waistband of your boxers. Her eyes, which were locked on yours earlier, are now glued to your crotch.

"It looks like you have a rather BIG problem."

Yoohyeon bites her lip. She is unable to hide how wet this all makes her. She loves roleplaying. And this scenario makes her want to get pounded like there is no tomorrow. She knows that her body is build to be fucked. To be admired and then used like a toy. To be worshipped, before being sprayed with load after load of cum.

When she looks into your eyes again, she knows that that's exactly what you want to do to her. And you see the sparkle in her eyes, telling you to do so.

Once Yoohyeon finally pulls down your underwear, she eyes your cock hungrily. Still trying to be professional, she pretends to examine it. Although you know she is just looking for an excuse to touch it.

To get a better view, the young brunette is now kneeling on the desk, your legs underneath her. She leans down and takes your dick into her hand, still staying in character.

You can't take your eyes off her cleavage. Yoohyeon's tits are slightly pressed together by her arms as she leans on the left one, while the right is reaching for your cock. You are already hard enough for your cock to stand up straight as Yoohyeon only holds onto your tip.

"Do you take any medication?"

You shake your head. Her chest makes it hard to concentrate.

"How often do you cum in a day?"

You shrug your shoulders. The older girl gave you an exact number.

"Maybe ten times?"

Yoohyeon bites her lip once more. You can feel her hand slowly closing around your tip.

"I bet you cum buckets."

Her thumb plays with your tip as she looks down at it.

"This is kinda unfair, you know?"

She looks down on you.

"What?"

"You saw my private area, but I didn't see yours yet."

You try to keep that shy patient persona.

"That's not really professional."

Her cheeks turn a little red.

You notice that she has begun to slowly stroke your cock. She starts at the tip and it feels like ages, until her hand reaches the base.

"But it might help, doctor."

Yoohyeon pretends to dismiss the idea.

"You are pretty after all. I can't control it."

You see her blush again.

"Am I so pretty that you have to see me naked?"

You nod slowly, looking into her eyes.

"I would love to see your pussy, doctor."

Yoohyeon blushes harder then before. She keeps her coat on, but slowly undoes the button on her brown pants.

"I mean,"

She opens the small zipper and you can see that your doctor is not wearing any underwear.

"a doctor should treat a patient as best as she can."

Looking through her zipper, you see Yoohyeon's neatly trimmed hair. You catch just a glimpse of her lower lips, before she starts to pull down her pants.

She is still hovering on top of you, which means, she can't get her pants off completely either. You take hold of her waist with both hands and lift her up. Yoohyeon giggles as you put her down right above your face. Due to the movement, her coat has fallen in front of her center.

Parting it like a curtain with both hands, you hold onto her waist once again. Yoohyeon's pussy is on display for you as you admire its beauty. Her lips have a slightly darker tone compared to her skin. You can already see that she is tight, without even having to touch her. Her clit is partially hidden underneath the upper part of her lips. Her neatly trimmed hair has a darker color than her dyed hair.

Slightly tilting your head, you swipe your tongue along Yoohyeon's pussy. She sighs as she feels your hands moving around on her skin. You smack your lips, before sucking a little on her lower lips. She doesn't taste as sweet or fruity as the other girls. But you can't deny that it's equally delicious.

"Oh god."

Yoohyeon moans, when you finally let your tongue flick against her clit. Your right hand still holds onto her waist, while the left travels up her midriff. You feel the hardness of her abs underneath her skin as you keep stimulating her clit with your tongue.

"Holy-"

The brunette's breath hitches, interrupting her words. Your fingertips reach her knitted top and dive underneath. From now on, you start to suck on her clit, occasionally flicking it with your tongue. The pressure on her pearl makes Yoohyeon feel hotter and hotter on top of you.

"Yoohyeon feels hot."

She moans as your hand reaches her black bra. You are surprised she is talking about herself in the third person.

While your tongue and lips keep moving around and against her clit, your hand roams around her bra. Only the soft fabric separates your fingers from her sensitive nipples.

"Yoohyeon feels good."

You hear her sigh as you reach underneath her bra. This is a first for you. No one ever talked like that during sex. But for some reason, Yoohyeon is able to pull it off.

As your hands cup her breasts underneath her bra, the brunette slowly starts to grind against you.

"Your doctor wants to ride your face."

Her moans become louder as she does what she announced.

Slowly, the woman on top of you starts to ride your face. Your thumb grazes her nipple as her head falls back.

"Yoohyeon is gonna cum!"

You do your best to hear her moan her own name, when she cums. You suck and lick the brunette's clit, while your left hand keeps squeezing her tits. Your right hand has reached her ass by now. You hold her right cheek as you control her pace.

The young girl's hands are both buried inside your hair, holding onto it as if she is actually riding a horse. Her hips buck wildly. She loses her rhythm.

"Yoohyeon cums!"

With a loud shriek, Yoohyeon announces her orgasm.

After hearing her say her own name, you didn't expect anything else out of the ordinary. That's why you were unprepared. Without much of a warning, Yoohyeon begins to squirt. As she cums violently, her juices drench your face. You feel your hair getting wet as you have to close your eyes.

When Yoohyeon finally stops, you feel her pussy rub against your lips.

"More please."

Yoohyeon sighs as you open your eyes again.

"Make your doctor cum again."

You wonder if it's possible to drown in this situation. But as you look at Yoohyeon's body on top of you, you decide to take your chances.

With both of your hands on her waist, you pull the young brunette even closer. As she starts to ride your face, you begin to eat her out.

The pillow underneath you, your hair and your face are all wet. But you still can't have enough of Yoohyeon's pussy. One of the young girl's hands is now in tangled with her own short hair, while the other is keeping your hand on her ass in place.

She makes you squeeze her cheeks occasionally as she rides your face. Moan after moan falls out of her mouth, one dirtier than the other.

"Does your doctor's pussy taste good? Do you want her to cum all over your face again?"

You answer all of her questions by drawing the word you would like to say on her clit.

"Yes."

The brunette doesn't stop. She keeps asking more questions, enjoying the feeling of your tongue on her pearl.

"Is Yoohyeon a good doctor? Does she take good care of her patient?"

You answer her silently.

"Oh fuck."

She sighs as she feels her second orgasm approaching.

"Yoohyeon is going to cum on your face again."

Her breathing becomes faster.

"Please make Yoohyeon cum!"

You squeeze her ass one last time as you eat her out, making her orgasm for a second time.

"Fuck!"

You feel like you are standing underneath a waterfall.

Yoohyeon's legs buckle and she falls down on your knees, right in front of your cock. Her juices drench more than just your face. Your shirt is soaked in a matter of seconds as her cum makes you completely wet.

"Do you always cum this much, doctor?"

You tease the brunette as you start to enjoy this roleplay stuff.

"Only with a patient like you."

She is still breathing heavily as she is lying on your legs. Her back pressing against your knees.

You are about to say something, when you hear a nock on the door. You and Yoohyeon lock eyes.

"Dr. Kim?"

"Fuck!"

Yoohyeon whispers and tries to get off of you. Participating in the roleplay, you start to pull your pants up. The brunette does the same as she gets off the desk. Just as the door opens, she manages to straighten her coat.

The black haired woman in the door looks at the both of you. She is wearing a white coat herself. A stethoscope is hanging around her neck.

She didn't close her coat either, showing off her skimpy top. A black bra is visible underneath. Her exposed skin seems flawless like porcelain.

"What is going on?

Kim Bora sees you lying on the desk. Your face and shirt, the pillow and the blanket are wet. Yoohyeon's face is still a little flushed after experiencing two orgasms in a row. Her hair is disheveled, due to her hand in her hair earlier.

"Dr.Kim! How many times have I told you, how clumsy you are?!"

The woman who just walked in, glares at the other one, before she scans you up and down. Your face is still completely drenched and your shirt is soaked.

You see SuA's eyes rest on an empty glass on the small nightstand nearby.

"I-I just tripped and spilled some water on him."

Yoohyeon bows at her college.

"I'm sorry."

SuA shakes her head.

"Aish. How did you even pass the doctor's exam?"

The younger one blushes in shame.

You are surprised at how good their acting is.

"Have you been fooling around with a patient again?"

Yoohyeon shakes her head.

"No, unnie."

"Then are you at least treating him properly?"

SuA crosses her arms in front of her chest as she watches Yoohyeon nod.

"And what does he have?"

"He has a problem with his intimate area."

You stay quiet, enjoying the show. After all, you don't usually see two insanely hot girls argue like that.

"What's wrong with his cock?"

Raising an eyebrow at the other doctor's choice of words, you see Yoohyeon's face flush.

"He seems to have too much cum inside of him."

SuA nods.

"I see. And how did you plan to cure it?"

You see the older woman take a step closer towards you.

"I thought of some medications maybe?"

As the older girl shakes her head, you know what kind of treatment she is going to propose.

SuA takes another step towards you, standing right by your side. As she leans down, you admire her face, which is just as breathtaking as the other doctor's.

"The only proper way to cure him, is to make him cum as often as possible."

"But he said he already cums pretty often."

The brunette, still a little shy, has folded her hands in front of her core, glancing only once in a while in your direction.

"How do you cum?"

The older doctor focuses on you.

"I-I usually jerk off, because my girlfriend can't keep up."

"I see."

SuA's finger taps her chin as if she is trying to figure out an insanely hard math problem.

"I think I have a solution for that."

She looks at you first, then at Yoohyeon.

"How much pounding can your little body take?"

"E-excuse me?"

Yoohyeon looks at SuA in surprise.

"I mean, how long can our patient fuck and cum in you, until your body gives up?"

"R-right now?"

If you weren't hard before, you definitely are hard now. Since you saw them at the airport, you imagined yourself fucking the two of them. But hearing SuA talk like that, makes your imagination about Yoohyeon more vivid. Especially after seeing and tasting her pussy already. You do wonder the same thing. How much pounding can Yoohyeon's body take?

"Of course right now. Why would he need to make an extra appointment, when he is already here? Just let yourself get used as a cum dump."

SuA's unfiltered language makes you want to do just that. Use Yoohyeon's perfectly sculpted body as a cum dump.

Looking closer, you see a small dark spot form on the brown fabric between her legs. Her lack of underwear exposing her inner desires.

"Don't be shy, Dr. Kim. This is a normal treatment."

SuA leans down to get a better look of your face.

"What do you think? How many rounds can you go before you are satisfied? Are you going to destroy her pussy before you coat her whole body in your cum?"

You have to hold yourself back to not just jump off the desk. To not grab Yoohyeon by her waist. To not bend her over the table. To not fuck her brains out, until she is a whimpering, cuming mess, your cum leaking out of her.

"I'm not sure if this is really professional."

Your doctor snickers at your remark, her black hair falling into your face.

"I told you," her fingers dance over your pants. "this is normal. If we don't treat you know, you will have to come back three times a week."

She nods towards her colleague.

"Do what you want with her."

"Really?"

Your eyes leave SuA's face to look at Yoohyeon. The brunette is just standing there. Her hands are still folded in front of her, hiding her entrancing midriff. She is unaware of the small wet spot on her crotch, which is slowly, but constantly, growing. You see her bite her lower lip, but avoid your look.

Now that it's finally time for you to enjoy that body of hers as much as you want, you actually don't know how to start.

"Don't worry, sir."

SuA pats your thigh, her hand dangerously close to your crotch.

"Don't think about pleasuring her. Our patients always cum first."

The older girl looks at the younger one.

"Come here, Dr. Kim."

Yoohyeon shyly tugs her short, brown hair behind her right ear, before walking a couple of steps closer.

"Time for you to be his personal cum dump."

You watch SuA reaching out for Yoohyeon's crotch. The older girl starts to undo her pants. The brunette keeps her coat on as you watch her pants fall to the ground. Once again, you are blessed with the sight of Yoohyeon's delicious snatch. The small strip of hair, right above her clit, seems to act like an arrow. As if it's saying "here is the treasure".

Unable to hold back any longer, you get off the desk. SuA flaunts a satisfied smile as she sits down on the chair, which Yoohyeon sat on earlier.

When you reach the brunette, you kiss both her cheeks. You wanted to do that, since the first time she smiled at you. Subconsciously, your left hand finds its way to her pussy, while your right is holding her chin up.

Yoohyeon closes her eyes as she gets attacked at two different places at once. Her lips part slightly, when they meet yours. Her thighs rub against your arm as you dip your fingers into her honey pot.

"No need for formalities."

SuA interrupts your small make out session.

"Just use her already."

You take a step back from Yoohyeon to look at her flawless body one last time, before turning her into a mess. The brunette looks up at you. And although she still seems coy, you do see the way her eyes sparkle slightly. How her lips curl upwards in a small smile.

"I'm gonna fuck your brains out, Dr. Kim."

Your words make Yoohyeon bite her lower lip.

You spin her around, making her coat twirl around her. Pushing her towards the desk, you bend her over it.

"Finally some action."

Under SuA's commentary, you hike up Yoohyeon's coat and admire her firm ass. You let your hands roam her soft skin, until they both reach her tiny waist. Only now, you actually realize how petite Yoohyeon is, in comparison to you. You wonder if SuA just wanted to turn you on earlier, or if it was a sincere question. Can Yoohyeon's body take your pounding?

Time to find out, I would say. Without having to say a word, you already feel SuA's hands on your belt. She quickly removes your pants, like she did with Yoohyeon. You step out of them, your cock now resting between Yoohyeon's cheeks.

The brunette's head is resting on the desk as you align your dick with her pussy. You feel its wetness on your tip.

Yoohyeon moans into the blanket, when you finally push inside of her.

"Damn, you are tight."

It isn't an overstatement. Yoohyeon's pussy is as tight as her body. You wonder, how many people already used her body like this. She is build to be used like doll, so you guess you aren't the first one.

With every thrust, Yoohyeon's walls seem to suck you in. With your hands on her tiny waist, you pull her towards you, everytime you move forward. At first, you promised yourself you would cum all over her tight midriff. But now, once you have gotten a taste of Yoohyeon's pussy, you wonder if you could pull out in time. Whatever! You just have to cum twice then.

"Oh my god!"

Yoohyeon sighs as her eyes are shut tightly. While you pick up the pace, you make the desk shake a little.

SuA sat behind you at first. Now, she is sitting next to Yoohyeon on the desk.

"Wow. I'm sure you are the biggest she's ever had."

A whine from Yoohyeon confirms SuA's theory as you thrust into her harder.

Small red marks appear on the brunette's skin as your hands hold her slim frame in place. Her head is being rocked back and forth on the desk. SuA changes her position from sitting to kneeling to get a better look. She leans over Yoohyeon's upper body and places her hands on the younger girls ass. Spreading her cheeks apart slightly, SuA watches you railing Yoohyeon from behind.

"You are really stretching her out. Fuck."

You can only agree, feeling the brunette's walls around your cock.

"Please don't stop."

Yoohyeon's whimpers become louder and louder. Her eyes are still shut as her left cheek is pressed against the desk. Her hands are holding onto the blanket as if she is afraid you are going to pull her off it.

"Fuck Yoohyeon harder!"

You listen to the brunette as SuA keeps her eyes glued on the action beneath her.

"Make her take it."

SuA winks at you, before leaning down. As you fuck Yoohyeon, you watch SuA letting a string of saliva fall out of her mouth. You feel it hitting the lower part of your cock, before you push into the younger girl again.

Yoohyeon has become quiet and so you look up to look at her. Her face is now completely buried in the blanket. You wonder if she is still able to breath. She is biting into the fabric, trying to prevent herself from screaming. There is someone else in the room next to this one after all. But that's something for another chapter.

"You rail her so good."

SuA coos as she watches you fucking Yoohyeon further and further into the blanket. Slowly, Yoohyeon's feet lose their grip on the floor. As you make her legs feel like butter, her feet slide away from underneath her.

The brunette's hands open and close in fists as you slightly lift her off the ground. She is hanging in midair, her head still buried in the blanket.

You see SuA biting her lower lip as she prevents Yoohyeon's coat to fall over, and cover her ass. Apart from her sweet face, her art like midriff and her tight pussy, it's one of Yoohyeon's most admirable assets. It definitely doesn't compare to Sohee, but it's nice and firm.

You slap Yoohyeon once or twice as you feel her walls closing around you further.

"Yoohyeon feels good! So good!"

The brunette starts moaning loudly again as you make her cheeks sting.

"Yoohyeon is gonna cum soon!"

She whimpers into the blanket and you focus back on holding her waist, to fuck her harder. SuA takes over with visible enjoyment. Her hands find Yoohyeon's cheeks again and again as the sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoes through the room.

"Yoohyeon cums! Yoohyeon cums!"

The brunette's body breaks down for the third time. SuA's work has already left red marks on her ass, which match your own on her waist. Yoohyeon shakes her head, face still buried into the blanket. You feel her pussy contracting around you. Her juices spill out of her again. They coat your cock even further, spraying the wooden floor as well. As much as Yoohyeon squirts, her pussy is surprisingly dry in comparison. She is still wet enough to fuck her properly, but she isn't as wet as you expected. That changes now as she now almost drowns your cock in her juices.

"She isn't much of a doctor. But she has talent in being one needy slut."

SuA's cheeky comment makes you think about fucking her as well. Her face and figure are just as alluring as Yoohyeon's. The older girl's tits seem to be bigger, which makes you glance at her cleavage more often than appropriate.

As you catch your breath from pounding Yoohyeon off the floor, you get caught by SuA.

"No, no, no. What a naughty patient, looking at your doctor's tits."

Before you can protest, the older girl has already gotten off the desk. While you are still inside Yoohyeon, SuA takes your hands, positioning them around her own waist. Almost standing on your toes, SuA looks up at you.

"Come on. Take a closer look."

You glance down, seeing how SuA's top is being stretched by her breasts. Her black bra is at least one or two sizes bigger than Yoohyeon's.

"What do you think about your doctor giving you a nice, comfy titfuck?"

That is definitely something you would never say no to. SuA seems to agree, not even waiting for your answer. She gets on her tiptoes, whispering into your ear.

"I bet you want to cum all over them."

She looks down, pushing them against each other with her hands, creating an even bigger cleavage.

"Coat my tits in your cum, baby."

You never thought it would be so easy to pull out of Yoohyeon's pussy. Although it tries its best to stop you from leaving, you eventually turn your full attention towards SuA. Yoohyeon is still recovering as you watch Sua getting on her knees in front of you.

You originally planned on cuming inside of Yoohyeon's tight snatch, but SuA's chest looks too inviting to pass up on.

"Let's get you nice and wet, sweetheart."

The older girl takes your cock into her mouth. Still coated with Yoohyeon's juices, SuA makes it even messier. You sigh as you feel her tongue twirl around your tip, while her hand strokes your base.

You see Yooheon move again, while SuA sucks your cock. The younger girl sighs as she now fully lies on the bed. She watches her band mate giving you head, her eyes barely open after having just orgasmed on your cock.

You focus back on SuA. She gives your cock one last wet kiss, before guiding it underneath her skimpy white top. You feel your dick glide under her black bra as the Korean girl pushes her tits together. SuA begins to move up and down, sandwiching your cock in between them. You feel her soft skin and the rough material of her bra against your dick. Watching it slide through her cleavage, you can't help but moan. When she presses them together like this, SuA's tits are so big, they almost engulf your cock.

You never expected it to feel this good. This is probably the first proper boob job you are receiving. SuA's tits are warm and soft as your cock glides through them.

"Do you enjoy your doctor's tits, baby?"

You nod as you have to hold onto the desk behind her. The older girl gives you a knowing smile as she keeps going. She moves up and down on your cock, making it slide in and out of her cleavage.

"Imagine how you cum all over my tits. You deserve it, good boy."

Her endless name calling makes you weak. The material of her bra creates a great contrast to the smoothness of her boobs.

Whenever SuA lowers herself, to wrap her tits around your base, she keeps her eyes on your tip. Sticking her tongue out, you feel it brush against you occasionally.

"Fuck."

You groan, knowing that you can't keep standing for long. A familiar feeling is spreading in your crotch. Your hand moves from the desk to the back of her head. Whenever she leans down to lick your tip, you try to push her a little further.

"Such a needy patient. You can't get enough of your doctor's tongue, can you?

SuA coos as her tits glide along the length of your shaft. That feeling inside of you builds up more and more.

The Korean girl lets some spit fall out of her mouth. It lands on your cock, before she starts to spread it all over your cock with her tits.

"I'm gonna cum soon."

You sigh as you feel SuA's tits around you. The feeling is amazing. You can't believe how good this feels. Because her bra and her top are keeping your cock trapped between her breasts, SuA only has to push them together. It makes it easier for her and makes you feel even better.

"Cum for me. Cum all over my tits."

SuA purrs as she watches you from her kneeling position. She enjoys the emotions, which play across your face. She is a person who enjoys making her partner feel good almost more than her own pleasure. Yooheon could tell you more than enough stories about that.

The younger girl is now scooting closer after your announcement.

Both of your hands are holding SuA's head as you slowly start to trip over the edge. She can feel you twitch between her tits.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Cum for me!"

You shoot your load all over her cleavage. Your cum lands on her tits and her white top, staining it in the process. A few drops reach SuA's collarbone.

"Wow."

Yooheon watches with wide eyes as you cum all over her friend. She can feel her pussy reacting to the sight. SuA kneeling in front of you, your cock still underneath her top and bra. Your cum is marking her tits and clothing as she leans down to wrap her lips around your tip. SuA cleans off the remaining drops of cum from your cock as Yooheon watches. The younger girl wants to go for another round. She almost needs it. She needs to have you fuck her again. And this time, she wants you to cum on her as well.

"Please fuck Yooheon's slutty little pussy again."

She whines, unable keep her desires in check. Although you just came, you know that you don't have a choice. SuA's tongue and her tits make you hard almost as fast as they made you orgasm. The way she looks, coated in your semen, makes it immensely easier to prepare yourself for another round.

"Mmmm... You taste so good."

SuA purrs as she lets your tip escape with a pop. Licking her lips, she looks down at herself.

"This is still a lot of cum."

She scoops up some of it, which was sticking to her tits, before sucking it in as if she is enjoying some noodles.

"Use her some more. Just treat her like a cocksleeve."

You are surprised how SuA talks about the younger girl. But Yooheon is already lying on her back, her legs spread invitingly. Except for her pants, the brunette still has all her clothes on as well. She shows off her tight midriff as she pushes her doctor's coat to the side a little. When she reaches down, you watch her parting her pussy lips for you.

"Please use me. Fuck me and cum in me or on me as much as you want."

You step closer, before aligning your cock with her pussy once more. She moans loudly when she feels you enter her again. You thrust into her slowly and deeply. Your hands are on her waist, holding her in place as you fuck her. Your thumbs slightly press onto her toned stomach, making her moan in delight. Yooheon's eyes are now closed, enjoying the feeling of your cock inside of her.

As she starts to move to your rhythm, you feel the brunette's legs wrap around you, pulling you further towards her. You feel her pussy getting tighter as you move faster. SuA is now sitting on the desk as well. Leaning against the wall, she is sitting behind Yooheon, patting her head, which she put onto her lap.

"You take his cock so good, Yooheon. You are a good doctor, aren't you?"

The brunette nods, her eyes still shut tightly.

Your hands move down to her ass, grabbing a handful of it. It makes her hips lift off the blanket, which enables you to penetrate her even deeper. Yooheon's reaction is immediate as her moans increase in volume.

You pull her further towards you as you trust into her harder, feeling her pussy getting even tighter around you. The young girl is getting louder, moving her head from side to side as you fuck her.

Yooheon's eyes open, looking into yours. You can see her lust for you in her eyes, the same lust that you have for her. A sultry moan escapes her lips, voicing how much she loves the way you plow her.

"Are you going to cum all over her as well?"

SuA licks her lips as she looks up at you, feeling Yooheon's head being rocked back and forth in her lap. Her top is still stained and the few drops of cum she hasn't devoured yet are sticking to her chest.

"On her abs. I'm gonna cum on her abs."

Yooheon nods wildly at your prediction.

"Please do! Please cum on Yooheon's tummy!"

The brunette reaches her arms out and grabs onto your shoulders, pulling you closer to her. You continue to thrust into her, loving the feeling of her tight pussy around your cock.

"Oh!"

Yooheon moans.

"Im so close."

You feel her pussy getting even tighter around your cock. Her moaning becomes louder, matching the speed you are fucking her with.

"Make her cum. Make your doctor cum all over your cock again."

SuA makes you thrust harder into the tight girl underneath you. You can feel her pussy squeezing your cock even tighter. You can tell she is about to cum, her body starting to shake. You reach your hand down to her clit, rubbing it gently.

That's all it takes. She screams out loud as her body shakes, her pussy gripping your cock tightly.

"Yooheon cums! Yooheon cums!"

You can feel her pussy spasming around your cock, trying to milk you dry. You let go of her ass and grab onto Yooheon's soft thighs, pulling her towards you. Her pussy keeps milking your cock, keeping it hard to hold onto reality yourself.

Yooheon's orgasm pushes you over the hill as well. You thrust into her contracting snatch one last time, before pulling out.

"Mark her with your cum."

SuA says excitedly as she watches you pulling out. When you cum, you do what you planned on doing, since you saw Yooheon's toned figure. You start to shoot your load all over her tight midriff. More and more of your cum hit her white skin.

Yooheon moans as she feels the warm, sticky fluid on her stomach. Some of it falls into her belly button as you make sure to coat as much of her body as you possibly can.

"Fuck, you are gorgeous."

You pant as you admire your work. Yooheon's tight tummy is full of your cum. The white streaks glisten in the lamp light. The brunette's smile lights up her face as she enjoys your cum on her body.

SuA jumps into action, leaning over Yooheon's tired, cum covered body.

"Such tasty cum."

You hear her murmur, before you watch her lick your jizz out of Yooheon's belly button. The older girl laps up some more, before moving in, to give Yooheon a kiss. The two of them make out, pushing your cum from one mouth to the other and back.

You watch them, unable to do much more. You already came a lot before this appointment. But, as said before, that's something for a different chapter.

______________

Hi, everyone!

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. While writing this, I honestly fell in love with Yooheon's midriff. I'm not sure why, I obviously knew how she looked before. But something changed while writing.

[turvi]

Promises-3

Series Masterlist

They soon arrived at Hogwarts and Severus introduced her to Professor McGonagall. The professor offered tea and biscuits to her. As Y/n was taking a sip of her tea Minerva interrupted "So Severus is a fine man don't you think?"

Y/n choked on her tea this woman met her seconds ago and now she wants to know whether she thinks Severus is a fine man or not?

"He is a nice man" Y/n awkwardly coughed out the words.

Minerva smirked "Not a lot of people share that same thought here Y/n"

"Well honestly I don't know much about him other than the fact he is saving my life"

Minerva hummed at Y/n's admission. "Severus mentioned to me you were having trouble sleeping?"

"Yes that was until last night, I used to have nightmares"

Minerva scooched her chair closer to Y/n "what were they about?"

"They were all different yet somehow connected to the dark lord. Sometimes he will be there sometimes just a mention of his name. I always hear him calling me by my full name like he always used to."

"Do you remember any spell he used on you? Maybe something you are familiar with?"

"I honestly don't remember much. Most of my time with him I can't remember, just a few events. I always felt fatigued like I have been sleeping for a long time."

McGonagall sighed as she finally connected the dots. "You stay right here dear I have to go and talk to the headmaster. Eat the biscuits" She offered a warm smile to Y/n which she responded with a warm smile of her own.

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

Severus told only a limited version of what Y/n was actually doing here. Of course, he trusted her to take Y/n under her wing if things get too tense, he might as well drop her off right now. He could have his humble abode all to himself but Y/n didn't complete the story of her childhood about how she stole the neighbor's dog because they were not treating him well. Severus doesn't know this woman well, but he knows one thing. This woman can't tell a story to save her life because as she was telling how she befriended Fluffy she goes off at a tangent telling what a terrible cook her father is.

Right now Severus knows almost everything about her other than how the heck did she save Fluffy. Normally Severus wouldn't care about Fluffy but the anticipation would make him insane if he doesn't get to know the ending. Yes, this is the only reason why Severus has not dropped her at Minerva's home.

Minerva offered Y/n to stay in her office because she soon realized she need to talk to Severus. The older lady soon realized that Y/n might be in more danger than ever since the dark lord had recently possessed Ginny. Severus was in his classroom teaching the 4th years when she burst into the classroom and told him that they need to discuss important "school matters".

"What is the meaning of this Minerva" Severus whispered as soon as they were outside his class.

"Severus there is no other way of saying this but he will try everything to get to her, she doesn't realize it but he is already looking for her"

"How- what do you mean?"

"She told me about her nightmares, she thinks it's just nightmares but he is somehow still connected to her but for some reason, he cannot connect to her fully"

"How do we stop that?" He asked quickly

"I don't know but we need to talk to Dumbledore quickly. Meet me in Dumbledore's office after your class is over."

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

"Ah, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Dumbledore asked already offering his favorite sherbet lemon.

"It's about Y/n" Minerva offered the answer solemnly.

"Oh" "What is it about"

"Y/n mentioned to me about having nightmares about the dark lord. She mentioned how she doesn't remember most of the things that happened there and she felt fatigued most of the time."

"She fainted in the kitchen too. Twice" Severus revealed, he remembered the day vividly. She was just standing there silently mixing some ingredients in her mortar and pestle. When all of a sudden she collapsed luckily he was close so he got hold of her before she hit the floor. That was when he noticed bruises on her chest and arms.

Severus thinks she looks way healthier than before. Did she even eat?

"I will try to find out how is he planning to get her. If he is trying to get her in control then he is closer than before"

Dumbledore agreed "You do that Severus because if he does get her in control then not only will she be in danger, we all will be."

"But why does he want her?" Minerva asked

"He used her powers to protect himself maybe he is trying to do that again."

Severus frowned at this new information. "How did you know?"

"She told me that night at the dinner"

The headmaster provided the information so nonchalantly that Severus couldn't help but roll his eyes. He beelined towards the door when Dumbledore interrupted again.

"Where are you going?"

"It's getting late if she stays outside any longer the dark lord will have a better chance of getting hold of her."

Minerva cooed at his statement and the headmaster smiled like a Cheshire cat. Severus didn't bother with them and went off to do his duty.

A/N: I hope you like this. If you don't. It is what it is. REBLOG AND FEEDBACKS PLEASE IF YOU LIKED THIS

[ahlyasimps]

A Shoulder to Cry On [O.G.]

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x GN Reader

Summary: His presence brings a peace to you that you haven't felt in weeks.

A/N: Requested by Anon! I'm trash at comforting people irl so writing this was hard haha. Hope the ending was fluffy enough.

Started the final battle yesterday with a sick ass outfit, 0 Wiggenweld potions and a whole lot of hopes and dreams. Ended the fight with literally 1 hp but at least I was stylish.

SPOILER ALERTS: THIS SCENE TAKES PLACE AFTER THE EVENTS OF THE MAIN STORY

You stand alone in the office, staring blankly at the empty desk where Professor Fig used to sit. It's been a few weeks since his death but you can still hear him cheekily discuss how terrible Professor Black is at holding his liquor. Can vividly recall his laughter when you mentioned that the dear esteemed headmaster was suffering from a bad case of boils. Remembering it just makes his absence hurt all the more. The weight of his death is heavy on your heart, and you can't help but feel lost without him. You hear a soft knock at the door and turn to see Ominis, the boy who had become a dear friend to you over the year you've been at Hogwarts.

He approaches you with a concerned look on his face, "I heard what happened. I'm so sorry." His words bring fresh tears to your eyes, and you run over so he can pull you into his warm embrace. "Let it all out. It's okay to grieve."

You cling to him as you sob, feeling the weight of his comforting presence grounding you. "Professor Fig was like a father to me," you manage to choke out between sobs. "I don't know what I'm going to do without him."

Omnis strokes your hair gently, his soothing touch bringing you some comfort. "I know it hurts right now, but you're not alone. You have me and everyone else here who cares about you. We'll get through this together."

As he continues to hold you, you begin to feel a sense of peace wash over you. His words bring you some comfort and you feel grateful for the warmth of his embrace.

"You know, I overheard Professor Fig talking to the headmaster about you once," Omnis says, breaking the silence. "When the headmaster was questioning your worthiness to even be here due to your frequent absences, Professor Fig was arguing about how skilled you were despite coming here late."

You sniffle and wipe your tears, feeling a small sense of pride at his words. Professor Fig truly was the best mentor you could ever ask for. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Omnis nods. "And I agree with him. You have a bright future ahead of you, and I'll be here every step of the way to help you."

You smile weakly, feeling grateful for his support. "Thank you, Omnis. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," he says with a reassuring smile. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

As you pull away from the embrace, Omnis feels down your arm so he can take your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Come on, let's get out of here. We can go for a walk or something, get some fresh air. It might help clear your head."

You nod, feeling a sense of comfort and gratitude wash over you. As you walk with Omnis, you begin to feel a sense of hope for the future. Even though Professor Fig may be gone, you know that you have the support of those who care about you, and that's enough to get you through anything.

[pariahofpelicantown]

Rain Soaked Apologies (Haley x GN! Farmer)

Summary: Haley spends a lonely night feeling alone and reflecting on her behavior towards the farmer, only to find they are there when she needs them most.

The rain lashed fiercely against the bedroom window, creating a ceaseless and unyielding pitter-patter that reverberated through the room. Haley lay curled up on her bed, her body folded into a tight ball as she wept silently into her pillow.

Tears cascaded down her cheeks, mingling with the rivulets of water that streaked the glass, transforming the outside world into a hazy blend of grey and black. Occasionally, a bolt of lightning would pierce the gloom, its harsh light only serving to highlight the profound darkness enveloping Haley's soul.

As she lay there, the rain drumming a sorrowful rhythm against the window, Haley's mind replayed the day's events in an endless loop. She thought about her family—her parents no longer there, and her sister always consumed by work. The weight of isolation pressed down on her, even in a small, close-knit community like Pelican Town.

And then, of course, there was the incident with the farmer. That morning, she had been more brusque and rude than usual, driven by some unfathomable urge to push them away. Now, she was tormented by the thought that she might have alienated the one person who truly cared for her.

Haley felt a sharp pang of guilt at the memory of the farmer's expression that morning. It had been a poignant blend of surprise, hurt, and something else... maybe disappointment.

She could vividly recall the way the farmer had looked at her, eyes searching for some hint of understanding, before turning and walking away with shoulders slightly slumped. In that fleeting moment, an intense urge to call out to them, to apologize and explain herself, surged within her. But something held her back—perhaps stubbornness, perhaps pride. Now, it was too late, and she was left alone to grapple with the heavy weight of her actions and their inevitable consequences.

Haley's mind drifted back to the farmer, a tumultuous mix of emotions welling up inside her. They had shown her nothing but kindness since their arrival in Pelican Town. Despite her cold and dismissive demeanor, the farmer had remained steadfast, always friendly and respectful, never wavering in their gentle persistence.

And then there was her birthday... The farmer had gone out of their way to remember it, presenting her with a small but incredibly thoughtful gift. It was a simple gesture, yet it had pierced through her hardened exterior, making her feel something she hadn't felt in a long time... Seen. In that moment, amidst the rain and her solitary anguish, the memory of their kindness was a bittersweet reminder of what she might have lost.

Haley froze as the door to her room creaked open, her body instantly tensing at the intrusion. She hastily wiped away her tears, praying that the newcomer wouldn't notice the redness and puffiness of her eyes.

The farmer stepped into the room, their voice a soft whisper as they called out, "Haley...?"

She glanced up at them, her heart thudding in her chest, the weight of her earlier actions still pressing heavily on her. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice wavering between surprise and defensiveness.

The farmer spoke gently, their voice filled with concern, "I was worried about you. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Haley felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over her. Even after the way she had treated them, the farmer still cared enough to come and check on her, just to see if she was okay. She couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse at the thought of how she had acted towards them.

Her eyes welled up with tears once more, and she struggled to find the right words. "I'm... I'm sorry, truly. I don't deserve your kindness after the way I've been treating you," she managed to say, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

The farmer shook their head softly, a gentle smile gracing their lips. "Haley, everyone has their bad days. I know there's more to you than what you let on. I see it, even if you try to hide it."

Haley's defenses began to crumble in the face of such unwavering compassion. She had spent so long building walls around her heart, pushing people away before they could hurt her. But here was someone who saw through her facade, who cared enough to look past her rough edges.

"I don't know why I do it," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I push people away because... I guess I'm afraid. Afraid of getting hurt, afraid of being vulnerable."

The farmer took a step closer, their eyes locked onto hers with a sincerity that made her chest tighten. "It's okay to be afraid, Haley. But you don't have to face that fear alone. You have people who care about you, who want to be there for you. Let us in."

Haley remained silent for a moment, absorbed in her tumultuous thoughts. Her heart was a storm of confusion, guilt, and a strange sense of longing she hadn't felt in a long time. The warmth of the farmer's concern was beginning to thaw the icy barriers she had built around herself.

As the farmer began to turn to leave, she felt a sudden, desperate need to not be alone. Summoning every ounce of courage she could find, she whispered, "Wait..." Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the vulnerability she so often tried to hide. "Please, don't go. Stay... stay with me."

The farmer hesitated, surprise flashing across their features. For a moment, Haley feared they might refuse, that she might have pushed them too far. But then, with a gentle nod, they moved to lie down next to her, their presence both calming and reassuring.

Gently, they enveloped her in their arms, holding her close as if to shield her from the storm raging within. Haley stiffened for a moment, unaccustomed to such tender closeness, but soon found herself melting into their embrace. The warmth of their body, the steady rhythm of their breathing—it was a balm to her wounded soul.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Haley allowed herself to be vulnerable, to let someone in. She buried her face in the farmer's chest, her tears soaking into their shirt as she finally let the dam of her emotions break. All the hurt, the loneliness, the fear—it all came pouring out in a torrent of sobs.

The farmer held her tighter, their hand gently stroking her hair, murmuring soothing words that she couldn't quite make out but felt deeply in her heart. "It's okay, Haley. You're not alone. I'm here. I'm here."

In that moment, the rain outside seemed to soften, as if the world itself was offering her a moment of peace. Haley clung to the farmer, feeling a sense of safety and acceptance she had long forgotten existed. Maybe she didn't have to face her fears and her pain alone. Maybe, just maybe, she could allow herself to trust, to hope, to heal.

And as she lay there, wrapped in the farmer's comforting embrace, Haley felt a flicker of something new—a sense of belonging, of being seen and understood. It wasn't a solution to all her problems, but it was a start. A small, precious start.

[amayaonly1]

Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey

Eminem x Rapper!OC

Verse 11

About: Genji reflects on her collaboration with Eminem, revisiting moments of vulnerability and connection that once felt meaningful. As she wrestles with the growing silence between them, her lingering questions about their bond drive her to confront emotions she has been trying to ignore.

"Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey" Chapter List: Verse 1 | Verse 2 | Verse 3 | Verse 4 | Verse 5 | Verse 6 | Verse 7 | Verse 8 | Verse 9 | Verse 10 | Verse 11 | Verse 12 | Verse 13 | Verse 14 | Verse 15 | Verse 16 | Verse 17 | Verse 18 | Verse 19 | Verse 20 | Verse 21

Disclaimer: This work is a work of fiction, and any involvement of the character Genji is purely fictional and not representative of any real person.

The crisp winter air of Tokyo greeted Genji as she leaned against the frosted windowpane of her apartment. The city outside bustled with life, its neon signs fading against the encroaching daylight. February's chill seeped through the glass, a reminder of her restless schedule: interviews, promotional events, and music show performances. Yet, amidst the chaos, her thoughts wandered to one particular moment half a world away.

She caught her reflection in the glass. Her dark eyes were lined with exhaustion, but it wasn't just from the relentless pace that consumed her for the past weeks. It was something deeper, a restlessness she couldn't quite name that always seemed to lead back to Detroit.

Hailie's laughter was the clearest echo. Genji had always believed that children carried the purest forms of joy, untainted by the burdens adults bore. Working with Hailie on her project had been a welcome reprieve, an anchor in a storm of uncertainties. The girl was bright and curious, her enthusiasm infectious. But the memory of Eminem standing in the doorway, silently watching, stayed with her just as vividly. She remembered sensing the restraint in his jaw, his arms crossed and his gaze lingered before flicking away.

Genji thought back to their collaboration on Beautiful, a song that felt like peeling back layers of his guarded exterior. The way his voice softened when he explained the inspiration behind the lyrics made her feel like she was being allowed into a private part of his world. Then there was the book launch, where he showed vulnerability while recounting his past and struggles that had stayed with her long after the event. She'd thought, perhaps foolishly, that it had meant something.

But now? Now, their conversations had grown layered over time, filled with subtext she couldn't quite decipher.

She admired him, that much was certain: his resilience, his talent, his ability to channel his pain into something powerful, even his devotion to his daughter. And yet, there was more to it, something she hadn't dared to name.

It wasn't love. It couldn't be.

Could it?

She shook her head as the thought tightened her chest, trying to push it away. Love had no place here. They were artists who had briefly shared creative space. That was all it was. She had learned long ago to set her heart aside, to survive by shutting doors that didn't need opening.

Genji sat back down at her desk, the night creeping in as the room grew colder. She pulled her notebook closer. The worn cover and ink-stained pages were a testament to her constant need to process her world through words. Yet tonight, the pen hovered over the page, unmoving.

Her laptop's soft bing broke the stillness, and when she glanced at the screen, her breath hitched.

Eminem: "Thanks for helping Hailie. She loved working with you. Keep doing your thing."

It was polite and distant. If she squinted, she might find a thread of warmth. But reading it felt like reopening an old wound. The words made her feel like she was still an outsider in a world she almost become a part of. After all that had happened, it was starting to feel like she had become another one of the countless voices in the background, nothing more than an occasional collaborator.

Her hand hovered over the keyboard button, but the words wouldn't come. She stared at the screen, wondering if she should reach out, if she should ask him about Hailie again or inquire about their next project together. But the hesitation lingered like a shadow, pulling her back. There was nothing she needed to nor should say. And yet, her chest tightened with the weight of everything unsaid.

The screen dimmed as the notification faded, and with it, her resolve. She closed the laptop. Some things were better left unsaid. Yet the silence that followed felt deafening. She pulled her notebook closer and began to write, the words spilling out like a dam had broken. They weren't lyrics, not yet. They were raw and jagged thoughts, questions she dared not ask aloud, feelings she couldn't fully name.

あなたの胸の奥、今も私の声が響くの？ (Does my voice still echo in the depths of your heart?)

刹那の嵐じゃなく、時を越えて共に描けるの？ (Not just a fleeting storm, can we paint eternity together beyond time?)

The pen stilled, her hand trembling. She stared at the words until they blurred together, her vision clouded by unshed tears. It wasn't that she wanted to chase some fleeting fantasy, nor did she regret their brief collaboration either. Rather, it was the silence that had followed, the way he stepped back after the project wrapped as if she'd never been a part of it. She ripped the page from the notebook and crumpled it, tossing it onto the floor where it joined a growing pile of discarded drafts.

Later, lying in bed, Genji stared at the ceiling. The room was too quiet now, the silence pressing against her ears as she lay there, tangled in her own thoughts. Detroit felt far away, yet it clung to her like a second skin. She thought of their last conversation; his guarded expression, the way he always kept an arm's length from her, even after the months they'd spent working on lyrics together. It felt like he had built invisible walls around them, as though he was afraid to let anyone in. She had seen that before, people shielding themselves not because they didn't trust others, but because they were afraid of being seen.

Maybe she was as much a hypocrite as she feared he was, expecting honesty from someone when she had spent years avoiding it herself.

Although one thing was certain — she wouldn't let the moment pass without clarity the next time she saw him. Whatever this was, she needed to face it head-on. For now, though, her focus had to remain on her work. Tomorrow, she would channel this confusion and pain into something real. Tomorrow, she would face the silence and turn it into sound.

[sennenpharaoh]

@flamesignite

It had been a week since his burns have happened and now with the sudden jabbing pain to his side, he had to act. While he originally intended to just allow the burns to his face to heal naturally, for some reason they just... wouldn't go away. Maybe he was using the wrong ointment? Who knows, he was certainly not a doctor.

Alright, suppose he might as well try to heal them himself, or at the very least heal the burns. He did it to his hand a while back, surely it could work on his face as well. One would only hope.

Standing across from the mirror in his bedroom he took a look at his reflection, the burned marks on his face standing out now more than ever. Were they always this bad? He remembered that they were discomforting enough that he for some reason always felt the need to itch, but seeing it in front of him was... huh.

Okay, let's do this.

He pulled out a card from his deckbox. A healing card, one he had been using quite a bit often as of recently, and closed his eyes, preparing the spell. That's when he heard it.

"You IDIOT!!!"

Atem's eyes snapped wide open, immediately recognizing the voice. It was his Colonel's, filled with anger. Anger that he was looking for, but not for the reason he originally wanted.

That's right. The burns on his face were of his own doing, when he tricked-- no, manipulated Roy into snapping so that he could burn himself with his own card, seemingly catching Roy's "anger" for the events of Death Valley. He remembers that night vividly. The yelling, the fighting back and forth, but most of all... not just the anger in his Colonel's voice... but the pain.

That's right. I hurt him.

He lowered the hand holding his card to his side

I manipulated him. I forced him to attack me, all because I wanted him to punish me. I didn't want him to forgive me, I wanted him to be angry. But instead I hurt him. I'm no better than... than him.

He continued to look at the mirror, specifically the burns to his face, though it was obvious to anyone that he was starting to tremble.

I did the exact same thing Haga did to me... played with his emotions behind a false card. How could I have been so stupid?! I remember exactly how it felt when Haga did this to me, and yet I did the exact... same... thing... to Roy. He was right, you are an idiot!

A pause before he looked at the card in his hand.

I can't just... magic this away. I can't just magic these burns, and the hurt I did to him away! I can't! What I did wasn't okay! None of what I did was in any way okay! Actions. Have. Consequences!

Then his eyes trailed back to the mirror, although his vision seemed a bit... foggier than usual. A bit blurry, one might say--

Oh. Oh no you don't.

"You have no right." He scolded, though the only one in the room was himself. "All this time and now you decide you want to cry about it? The time to hide behind those tears left a long time ago when you felt his rage after what you did. Hell it took you to watch your duel against Haga for it to even stick, so don't you dare even try to cry about it now. You have no right. Not after what you've done. You hurt him. You did this to him."

He felt a sting to his cheeks, causing him to shut his eyes, which unfortunately allowed the tears that were building in his eyes to finally fall, making the skin sting even more as they ran over his burn. A horrible cycle. A punishing cycle, one could say. Fitting, as he hurt his Colonel's emotions with that foolish act, so should his emotions harm himself.

At least he was quiet enough, right? Maybe... no one would see him like this?

[aois-amaterasu-painting]

Vif Music interview (October 2016)

For a long time, the GazettE has continued to present the worldview of their album DOGMA. Their DVD and Blu-ray, capturing the culmination of this vision in their tour finale at the Yoyogi National Gymnasium, unravels its unique appeal.

Carrying the banner of DOGMA, the GazettE performed 69 live shows over the course of about a year, concluding the DOGMA journey with a grand finale at Makuhari Messe—a moment still fresh in memory. Now, their DVD and Blu-ray, which captures the "LIVE TOUR 15-16 DOGMATIC – FINAL – Shikkoku" held on February 28th at the Yoyogi National Gymnasium as the finale of two long tours, is set for release on November 9th. This video work encapsulates the full intensity of that day, allowing viewers to thoroughly enjoy the band's journey alongside DOGMA. Reflecting on their year through this release, the band also discusses their 15th anniversary, which starts with the return to their early concept of “Dainihon Itan Geisha” (Great Japan Heretical Geisha).

◆ “It felt like every time we thought, “What's worse that could happen?” something worse would happen.” – RUKI

Interviewer: With the free live event held on September 27th at Makuhari Messe, the GazettE STANDING LIVE TOUR 16 ～GRAND FINALE DOGMA-ANOTHER FATE- the year-long DOGMA journey finally concluded. How do you feel now?

RUKI: Honestly, the DOGMA feeling is already gone.

Aoi: It felt like we lost so much along the way. Like, “Huh? That guy’s not here?”

Everyone: (laughs)

Uruha: There’s definitely a sense of relief that it’s over. It was really long. Though we’ve been moving forward without much of a break, so there hasn’t been much time to let it sink in.

Interviewer: Uruha, in a previous interview, you joked saying “I don’t want to play guitar anymore! I just want to go home!” about the tour. How was it in reality?

Uruha: During the world tour (WORLD TOUR16 DOGMATIC TROIS), I genuinely wanted to go home from the very start.

Aoi: We spent about a week in Mexico doing nothing.

REITA: We kept asking ourselves, “Why are we even here?” (laughs)

Uruha: I spent most of the time just sleeping. But not performing was the hardest part.

Aoi: The only thing we did was gather to eat meals. And after a few days, even that stopped because no one wanted to come anymore. (laughs)

Interviewer: That’s quite an unexpected memory (laughs). Looking back over the past year, what stands out the most?

RUKI: There were lots of highlights. For me, the most memorable was shooting the MV for UNDYING. It was freezing.

REITA: For me, it was the UGLY music video. The biggest shock came when we found out on-site that one of our managers had quit.

Everyone: (laughs)

Interviewer: What exactly happened?

REITA: Uruha and I arrived on set around 6 a.m. The manager told us, “Oh, by the way, the other manager quit yesterday.” (laughs) It was a shocker.

Uruha: That kind of thing really lowers your motivation. We were all pumped, like, “Let’s do our best today!”

REITA: We were like, “It's early in the morning, but let’s push through!” But then that happened (laughs).

Uruha: And then it was like, “Why now? Couldn’t this have waited until after the shoot?” (laughs)

Interviewer: So, this ties back to what Aoi said earlier, “Huh? That guy’s not here” (laughs).

RUKI: It felt like every time we thought, “What's worse that could happen?” something worse would happen. (laughs) I also vividly remember worrying about whether DOGMA would even be released as planned.

Kai: Yeah, that’s the first thing that comes to mind for me too.

Aoi: Same here.

Uruha: I remember during discussions about the limited edition design thinking, “How is this even going to work?” (laughs).

RUKI: There was a moment when I seriously thought we might have to delay the release.

Interviewer: Was the situation really that uncertain?

Kai: There was a period when the band’s energy didn’t align with the people around us. If that had continued, DOGMA probably wouldn’t have been released.

Interviewer: Was that around the time of our previous interview with Uruha and Aoi?

Uruha: That's right.

Aoi: Yeah, it was precisely around then (laughs).

Interviewer: I remember you handled the interview with such calmness that it didn’t give even the slightest hint of any of turmoil.

RUKI: Looking back, it’s amazing none of us dropped dead from the stress. (laughs)

◆ “I think ‘UNDYING’ is a song that grows with time and experience.” – Uruha

Interviewer: I thought the highlight of your year will be tour memories, but your answers were unexpected.

RUKI: That’s because the tour itself was fun.

REITA: Yeah, the tour was a relief.

Uruha: Touring is when I get the most rest.

RUKI: That’s so true.

Interviewer: (laughs). By the way, the last time we interviewed you was in December, shortly after the start of the DUE. At that time I heard that the first tour UN was a trial and error tour. Watching the DVD, it was clear that the tour involved a lot of that. At what point did you feel like you had something you were satisfied with?

RUKI: Honestly, we kept tweaking things the whole time. There was never a moment where we thought, “This is the perfect setlist!”

Kai: We faced difficulties not just with the setlist but also with the production. For ‘13TH ANNIVERSARY’ we incorporated a 13-step staircase into the set as a symbolic element. Something we hadn’t done much before, where the set design conveyed a lot of the message. We thought it would be great to carry that concept over into this tour. However, when we actually tried it, the elaborate set ended up causing issues with the lighting, which ultimately backfired and made things more challenging.

Interviewer: When did you realize this?

Kai: Very early on after UN started. We quickly realized, “We’ve made the set way too rigid.” Even so, we worked within those constraints, doing what we could. By the time DUE rolled around, we decided to boldly strip things back. To improve, we constantly watched live footage, discussed what could be changed, and considered how to make those changes a reality.

Interviewer: That process was conveyed well in the documentary DVD included with the limited edition. Not many artists go to such lengths to refine their production.

Kai: It’s a constant process of updates, which is a lot of fun for us. Though it must be exhausting for the staff. (laughs) Still, we’re lucky to have a team that takes our ideas seriously and helps bring them to life.

Interviewer: After all the trial and error of UN and DUE, you finally reached LIVE TOUR 15-16 DOGMATIC FINAL - Shikkoku.

Kai: The setlist for that day was also the result of extensive trial and error. But one thing we knew from the start was that we wanted to showcase "UNDYING".

Interviewer: The flow from "OMINOUS" into "UNDYING" was quite striking.

RUKI: Yeah, it was. That day, after we finished, it felt like... nothingness. I was in a daze. It was the first time we’d performed "UNDYING", so it didn’t feel natural in our bodies yet. And honestly, the song is insanely difficult.

KAI: Usually, after a performance, there’s a sense of accomplishment, but we didn’t quite reach that point. For me, it was more like my memory just completely blanked out. I vividly remember the opening production and "UNDYING," but everything else is like it was wiped from my mind (laughs).

Interviewer: Is that so? I see Uruha nodding deeply next to you.

URUHA: I remember it clearly (laughs). The song was definitely challenging, though. I think "UNDYING" is the kind of track that only truly comes into its own after gaining more experience with it. That day, as I was playing, I kept thinking, "Wow, this is harder than I expected." Especially since the way we record these days and the way we perform live are completely different. That difference really stood out to me.

◆ "The highlight for me was the transition from 'DOGMA' into 'RAGE'" - Aoi

Interviewer: What were your impressions after watching the footage of that day’s live performance?

Aoi: The highlight for me was the transition from "DOGMA" into "RAGE." The way it merged with the visuals was amazing. "DERACINE" was great too.

Interviewer: "DOGMA" gave me goosebumps with its combination of sound, visuals, and lighting. The staging, where you appeared to rise from the abyss, was phenomenal.

Aoi: Actually, KAI was the only one already above ground on his platform from the start of that scene (laughs).

Kai: (wry smile)

Aoi: Wasn’t it because the drum set couldn’t lower all the way down?

Kai: Yeah, we tried to lower it, but no matter what, the tops of the cymbals were still visible from the audience (laughs).

Uruha: That’s distracting, isn’t it? When it’s not fully hidden.

Aoi: Right? Having the cymbals peeking out ruins the illusion. People would think, "Oh, that’s where he’ll be appearing from" (laughs).

Interviewer: Unfortunately, KAI isn’t visible in that scene on the DVD.

Kai: Right, the part where I move into position isn’t shown. While everyone else rises dramatically with the cue, "Ready, go," I quietly sneak into my spot (laughs).

Uruha: At the end of "DOGMA," everyone disappears from view, but KAI stays there (laughs). Your eyes naturally get drawn to him.

Kai: I couldn’t exactly leave the stage either. From a production standpoint, considering everything overall, it was something I had to accept.

Interviewer: Very professional of you. REITA, what’s your personal highlight?

Reita: For me, "DOGMA" itself felt like the opening. Once "DOGMA" ends and transitions into "RAGE," it feels like the real start, with all five members coming together. That moment of transition is key. It starts with RUKI hyping the crowd as lightning flashes behind us. It feels like the five of us are fully united at that moment.

Interviewer: The precise camera work in this live DVD condensed the heat and atmosphere of that day into a high-quality experience.

Reita: Absolutely. We’ve been working with the same director for several live productions, and they did a great job shaping it into something amazing.

Aoi: It’s impressively polished.

Interviewer: This feels like a work meant to be enjoyed on a big screen. By the way, the limited edition this time comes with two DVDs: one of the documentary and one of the live show. Which one would you recommend watching first?

Reita: That’s tough. Normally, I’d say start with the main live footage, but this time, starting with the documentary could be an option too.

Kai: If you want to enjoy it to the fullest, I’d suggest watching the live DVD casually first. Then watch the documentary for the context, and finally go back to the live DVD with more emotional investment (laughs). For those who’ve been following DOGMA from the start, watching the documentary and reflecting on the journey could make the experience even more enjoyable.

Interviewer: Watching in that order might give a whole new perspective. Speaking of surprises, is there a "golden ticket" type of special feature included in this live DVD?

Ruki: No way! (Laughs)

Reita: That’s not the kind of thing we can pull off multiple times!

Interviewer: (laughs) Well, I look forward to the day such an event happens again. Speaking of golden tickets, those who exchanged them for entry cards at the Yoyogi National Gymnasium finale were able to attend the grand finale at Makuhari Messe. Compared to "Shikkoku," the Makuhari show felt warmer and more like being at home.

Ruki: People say that a lot. But to be honest, our local shows in Tokyo during tours or regional live shows often feel that way. It’s not that we’re not tense, but with a final like "Shikkoku," there’s this strong sense of "We have to nail this!" That probably makes the atmosphere different.

Reita: That day felt like everyone, fans included, was saying, “Good job, we did it!” DOGMA was a year-long journey, and while there were tough times, those struggles might not have been apparent to the fans. I hope the documentary DVD gives them a glimpse of that. Even so, having that space where we could all come together and say, “Thank you and well done,” was really special.

Interviewer: Having a standing-only grand finale at such a large venue felt particularly unique.

Reita: We’ve always wanted to create the same level of live experience, whether the audience is seated or standing. But the visuals you get from an orderly seated crowd versus a chaotic standing one are so different. Also, we haven’t done many large-scale standing-only shows before, so it felt refreshing. Honestly, I was worried not many people would come. I even had someone take a picture of the audience before the show started because I was too nervous to check myself (laughs). I couldn’t predict the turnout, but when I saw the crowd, I was relieved (laughs).

Interviewer: It’s surprising to hear such concerns from a band that sold out Yoyogi National Gymnasium for "Shikkoku" so quickly.

Ruki: If anything, I think we worry more than other bands. There’s always this anxiety, like, “Will people even come?”

Reita: Especially since "Shikkoku" was already a final. Saying, “Okay, we’re doing another final!” left us unsure about how many people would actually show up.

Interviewer: That worry was clearly unfounded, seeing how packed the venue was with fans giving it their all.

Kai: That’s the most important thing. I had a great time too. I thought the setlist for Makuhari wouldn’t be too different from Yoyogi, but after giving everything we had at Yoyogi, I wasn’t sure how things would play out. Strangely enough, on the day of the show, I didn’t feel weighed down by overthinking. Looking back, it felt like a performance where I could relax a bit and let the momentum carry me. Maybe it was because we had meticulously prepared up until then, or perhaps it was the liberating feeling of finally reaching the end.

◆ "While the video was playing, I was backstage listening to the fans’ cheers, and it hit me how great that moment was." - REITA

Interviewer: That day, it was announced that there would be a commemorative live performance at the National Yoyogi Gymnasium on March 10th next year, featuring the early concept of “Dai Nippon Itan Geisha” (Great Japan Heretic Geisha). The setlist after the encore felt very natural, leading up to that announcement.

RUKI: That was all part of the plan. The setlist was designed with that in mind—planting hints along the way.

Interviewer: I see. Why did you decide to revisit “Dainippon Itan Geisha” for your 15th anniversary?

RUKI: I had been thinking about what to do. DOGMA had solidified itself in so many ways, and I felt like it would be meaningless to do a generic, all-time-best-type show for an anniversary. So I tried to consider what fans might genuinely want right now. Something unexpected, something that would surprise them.

Interviewer: When the video played, it truly caught me off guard.

RUKI: It went from Western to Japanese (laughs). By the way, that video was made by us.

Interviewer: Did REITA take the lead in creating it again this time?

REITA: No, no, not at all. I worked on the effects and things, but it wasn’t just me.

RUKI: REITA got himself a really impressive monitor. It's the kind you’d find in a music video director’s studio.

Uruha: He’ll probably start doing VR next.

Everyone: (laughs)

Aoi: For the record, I didn’t contribute much. My role was pretty much limited to using accounting software to work out the budget.

Everyone: (laughs) Accounting software!

Uruha: I was cheering everyone on from the sidelines.

Aoi: But didn’t you work on the sound effects? And Kai was always peeking at the screen.

Kai: I left it to REITA. I just threw in the occasional comment or complaint… but in the end, we all chipped in and divided up the work (laughs).

REITA: Yeah, it was a fun group effort.

Interviewer: Did you get any of the infamous “NG” (no good) rejections from master RUKI this time?

REITA: Oh, plenty. For example, I spent about five hours creating a video that ended up being cut down to a split-second insert. That’s just how it goes, though. Even in movies, they spend hours on effects for a single second of footage. When I think about it that way, it’s fine, but in the moment, it can feel a bit disheartening.

Uruha: It’s a bit of a shock when something you worked on gets cut so drastically.

RUKI: No, no, no! You all say stuff like that. It makes me feel awkward about giving feedback after a while.

REITA: Liar!

Interviewer: Were there moments where you thought, “I’ll just hold back on giving this NG”?

RUKI: Nah, I’d just say, “Do this instead.”

Everyone: (laughs)

Interviewer: Hearing about the effort that went into making that video is touching.

REITA: While the video was playing, I was backstage listening to the fans’ cheers, and it hit me how great that moment was. It felt like we were all experiencing it together, it gave me chills.

RUKI: By the way, I said, "This scene will get cheers, so we should extend it a bit."

REITA: Full of yourself, aren't you? (laughs)

RUKI: But we really did agonize over how best to reveal the phrase “Dainippon Itan Geisha.”

REITA: Silence with just the sound of cheers was the only way to go. Without those cheers, the moment wouldn’t have worked.

◆ "We aim to surprise everyone and have a blast ourselves." - KAI

Interviewer: To be honest, I thought you had mentally separated the “Dainippon Itan Geisha” era from the current the GazettE, but that’s not the case, is it?

RUKI: We’re not that adept at compartmentalizing. While it might seem like we’ve separated the two, we can only focus on one thing at a time when we’re doing it. So if we’re going to do it, we’re going all in. I hope everyone is looking forward to what we have planned.

Interviewer: I'm curious to see what kind of stage it will be, just like your first Halloween live show (HERESY LIMITED THE DARK HALLOWEEN NIGHT [SPOOKY BOX]). Have the costumes and makeup been decided?

Uruha: We're getting there.

RUKI: "Getting there," meaning, Halloween’s just around the corner (laughs). By the way, we’re not doing costumes. I mean, wouldn’t it be weird if one of us wanted to dress up as Spider-Man or something (laughs)?

Uruha: Even if he was Doraemon or something.

RUKI: That's right. We’re presenting our take on Halloween, which will not be gag-like at all.

Interviewer: It sounds serious.

RUKI: We’re serious about everything we do.

Aoi: Oh, so that’s what serious RUKI looks like. Aw, RUKI, you were so cute... That’s about all I can reveal for now.

RUKI: Wait, what!? Geez, this is what they always say!

REITA: But he really is cute.

Uruha: Super cute.

RUKI: Am I, though...?

Aoi: Fans will go wild when they see it. Meanwhile, we’re all rushing to finish making our tails.

Everyone: (laughs)

Interviewer: We're all excited to see just how cute RUKI will be, and whether he'll actually wear a tail.

Aoi: The vibe will probably be like the Maebashi days.

REITA: Oh yeah, back in the day, we used to have tiny audiences at our Maebashi shows. Since nobody was watching, we’d go all out with crazy makeup and antics. Aoi once had tribal paint all over his face, and RUKI would sing without moving (laughs). That kind of over-the-top behavior is what we call “going Maebashi.”

RUKI: I even did a “dark version” of Wakaremichi and sang it in this ridiculously low voice.

REITA: He really didn't move an inch (laughs).

Interviewer: I’m now even more excited for your Halloween live in “Maebashi mode”! Lastly, could you leave a message for your fans?

RUKI: First of all, please watch the DVD.

KAI: We’ve finally wrapped up the long journey that was DOGMA, and now we want to carry forward what we’ve gained from it into the next chapter. Up next, we have the Halloween live, KNOTFEST JAPAN 2016, and then, on March 10, we’ll kick off our 15th anniversary year. As always, we aim to surprise everyone and have a blast ourselves.

[testiculartorsionlover]

Discussing my experiences with DID

hello! this is a longer post of mine. i don't really post anything on Tumblr usually, but ive seen a lot of romanticization and some overall nasty stuff about DID/OSDD-1 online. i wanted to share my experiences in order for people to understand that this disorder isn't fun. now PLEASE keep in mind this is for awareness, this is not a vent post. ive been in treatment for years related to dissociative traits and trauma. apologies if this is confusing, writing this was extremely difficult and i zoned out a lot while making this.

Background

i am turning 19. i have been diagnosed with DID since i was 17, i managed to get lucky as i was able to intellectualise my struggles and articulate them very young. i also had access to therapy and mh resources since i was involved with social services as a toddler. years prior, i was diagnosed with Dissociative PTSD, or PTSD: Dissociative Subtype (i forgot the actual medical name, but it should be something like that.) i was diagnosed using the A-DES, SCID-D and a variety of other tests.

i have atleast ~4 active parts, however the actual amount is unknown (i suspect to have a little over 20, most are dormant.)

i experience forms of dissociation (fugue, amnesia, dp/dr, etc.) regularly.

as of writing this i am waiting to get reevaluated for my DID soon as i want to work with a professional to get another opinion.

The Flashbacks

growing up, ive had flashbacks that i couldn't comprehend very well. sometimes these flashbacks are mundane, but there's times i start to vividly remember flashbacks that are terrifying. it would always bring up some confusion, such as "when did this happen, why don't i remember it?" especially when i remember things that should be important.

it's like a chunk was taken out of my brain, and then that chunk would be thrown against my brain.

sometimes i feel these flashbacks in my body, as if im really reliving it and i would experience such strong reactions from them.

i sometimes experience emotional flashbacks, i think these are the most common ones for me, i might not remember specific events but I would remember how the events make me feel. they're so conflicting, because you never really know what's making you feel certain emotions unless you really dig deeper.

Amnesia

it's so hard to talk about amnesia because i get amnesia about literally having amnesia. it sucks and makes things more complicated.

i honestly feel like my amnesia might be worse than i think it is, and i feel like that's the case with a lot of people with DID.

also i realised that depending on the type of switches i have and who i switch in/out with, it impacts my amnesia, but let's talk about my experiences first.

it seems subtle at first. i might forget where i left my phone, what the day is, or what i did the whole day. then it becomes deeper.

i forget who people are to me, or even if i don't fully forget, i don't comprehend or feel my relationships with them. like i might get confused on who certain people are, like i would intrinsically know that my father is my father, but i don't comprehend that relationship. i just feel numb. it's like i experience a form of emotional amnesia with him. sometimes during really bad dissociative episodes i completely forget who he is. like he is a stranger. this goes towards almost everyone in my life, and myself included - i would forget who i am, what i like, what im supposed to be like and so on.

i struggle in school. i actually had to repeat a grade due to how bad my dissociation is that i would forget days or be unable to work on anything. i don't process the material i learned nor do i remember anything. it leaves everyone frustrated because they see me as someone who is very capable. im afraid of working sometimes, because i know my amnesia will get in the way.

i lose a lot of time, and the scariest part is that i never know what i did during that lost time. sometimes i find myself in the middle of doing things but being confused on what im doing or why im doing the thing im doing. during the time i lost i could have acted out of character and ruined my own life, that's my greatest fear.

people see me as unreliable due to my memory issues.

i am constantly left confused and lost on what i do or have to do as a result. it's often very jarring whenever i realise i lost time and memories, i don't really realise it until like days or weeks after, sometimes much longer. sometimes im lucky enough to remember some parts of my memories but i still hold no emotional attachment to them.

when it comes to my parts, amnesia starts to differ a little more. whenever i switch in with fragments or parts i am more integrated with, i sort of only partially have total amnesia. i can remember parts of what i did but hold no emotional attachment, and sometimes those memories gradually go away. i also have a lot of non possessive switches compared to possessive switches. with possessive switches i experience total amnesia, but it doesn't really feel like i forgot anything until a much longer time. with non possessive switches i retain some information.

dissociative fugue also comes into play. i go places but don't even remember ending up in them. this happens to me a lot. but i also don't realise i dont remember ending up in them until a while later. this goes onto our next segment:

Fugues

during my fugue states, it's like i lose who i am. i may feel disconnected or even forget who i really am. there's times i might forget my sense of self. it's like i feel as though im an empty husk, a shell of a person.

during these states i apparently forget who people are. i struggle remembering them. i apparently one time forgot who my therapist was when i entered dissociative fugue. im never able to be aware of when i enter these states, everything i know about them is anecdotal from my therapist and other loved ones.

i may wander aimlessly, i apparently did that a lot when i lived with an ex of mine. i would go outside during these fugue states and walk for a mile. then come back with no memory of it whatsoever. everyone around me was concerned about me having no memory over what i did.

i still have more research to do about fugues as well as some trauma work to do in order to figure them out more...

DP/DR and other dissociatives

depersonalization and derealization are probably the symptoms that impact me the most.

i dont ever feel real. it's like i never existed. other people dont feel real to me either. i lose a lot of awareness at times. i feel emotionally numb and apathetic a lot of the time. generally i feel disconnected from everything around me and i barely know who i am. i have no sense of identity at all. it's like looking at life through a lens or like playing a video game. i witness myself outside of myself.

time feels unreal. i don't really realise the passage of time like ever. life feels like a dream that i never woke up from and sometimes it feels so surreal.

i struggle to react to things. i don't feel like i belong anywhere, it's like im stuck in a limbo. i always feel so anxious about it, because it's like something is wrong but i can never pin whats wrong. sometimes it's hard to physically speak because i am so dissociated that words barely come to me, it's like an effort to be made.

sometimes i don't understand my body, like my bodys needs. it doesn't register to me unless im in a lot of discomfort. even then, i dont comprehend that discomfort

i struggle with my memories as well, because i can never tell if i dreamt them up or if they're real. or if they're fake either.

i never feel in control of myself. i just feel like im not actually there. combined with dissociative fugue i just don't know how to function effectively. its so hard to put into words sometimes. it's such a strange feeling overall.

as a result i feel so confused and lost about my identity. who am i? is that really my name? what am i? why is this happening? it feels very helpless. i feel chronically bored and empty inside.

Alters and Switches

this portion might be brief, because i still don't know much about my alters..

my experiences with my alters range from mundane to catastrophic. some of them are more self destructive than others. i only switch when it's necessary, i switch maybe a couple times a week but potentially more. its rare i realise when i switch until after i come back.

i have had alters spend hundreds of dollars due to feeling chronically bored and empty, for example.

i have had alters attempt suicide and do selfharm.

it feels so weird having alters. like it genuinenly is just severe dissociation and not literal different people, as much as it feels that way.

my alters aren't super distinct from me, most of them seem similar to me except with different names, ages, genders, sexualities and memories. some quite diverge from me. they may talk differently as well.

they have different worldviews from me. like, some of them genuinenly have different opinions and biases from me. i dont exactly know what these views are at the moment (as i'm writing this i am crazy dissociated) so if i find anything ill update this post.

whenever i have non possessive switches, its like mentally i'm right beside the alter that's in "control." i have some control over what i'm/the alter in control is doing. it's like im watching myself from the backseat of my mind, essentially. depending on the alter thats in control it can dictate how much amnesia and dissociation i feel between alters.

i start to wonder why im doing the things i'm doing, or why i talk differently at times or why i have beliefs i normally never would. it also feels like a general state of wrongness, like it's as if i'm existing "wrong" from the way i'm "supposed" to exist.

my possessive switches are hard to explain, considering i end up blacking out from them half the time. i don't exactly feel control during these switches, and i completely lose myself. sometimes im able to retain some memories for a short period of time before forgetting. or sometimes i forget and then out of nowhere i get memories of my experiences back.

i have very little way of being able to tell who's fronting whenever i have possessive switches. when i have non possessive switches i can sorta guess. if i'm lucky enough, they might announce themselves and leave notes on my digital diary.

it feels a little like i'm being spectated over. this used to create really bad paranoia when i was younger and wasnt aware of what was going on.. as i'm writing this i feel like im watching myself from afar, watching my hands type more and more and i can't really register that as me. realistically, i know it's me, but it doesn't feel that way.

i experience so many intrusions. memories from other alters is weird. whenever i'm able to tell when i switch (which is usually kind of rare) it's like i feel my own memories going away and they're getting replaced by the other dissociative part of me. or other alters' emotions feel almost foreign, it's like an invader intruded my mind. its so interesting, my other alters feel emotions kind of differently from me, or they atleast comprehend emotions differently from me.

Closing

obviously, this isn't all that i experience, and i plan on updating this eventually. i might use this page as a diary of sorts, or to share my own thoughts and opinions. if you go through something similar, feel free to share! i'd love to be friends. i use discord a lot.