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keishawantskisses · 3 days

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hi, i sent this question to another blog a few weeks ago, but I didn’t receive a response. perhaps the person didn’t see my question or didn’t know how to help me with it… 🫤

of course, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and it’s perfectly fine if you choose not to answer it.

i’ve been part of the community since I was 14 years old, and now, in just a few months, I’ll be 17. i’ve never shifted before or experienced any “minishift” (at least, I’ve never noticed anything different in my reality).

honestly, i’ve never really cared about age when it comes to shifting. i’ve held onto the hope that I’d shift before turning 18, so I could experience a normal teenage life in various realities I’d love to explore before reaching that milestone. take dating, for instance—not that my goal is to have a boyfriend in my desired reality. i simply want to embrace everything that reality has to offer, and I don’t judge those who choose a different path.

but with this, comes that… i have a specific script that I’ve been refining over the years so that when I shift, I can go there. while I haven’t shifted yet, I keep making adjustments to the script. In this script, I have a boyfriend who is the same age as me in that reality (16 years old). he’s been my boyfriend since I created the script, and I’ve never replaced him with anyone else.

now, I’m almost 17 years old, and I still haven’t shifted. the shifting community has this sort of ‘prejudice’ against adults shifting to a reality where they date a teenager. they believe it’s wrong to shift to a reality where your mind is that of an adult, but you’re in a relationship with a teenager. i’ve been worried about this for a week now. i keep wondering, ‘Will I shift before turning 18?’ I don’t want to leave my partner in that reality, but according to the shifting community, it’s considered wrong.

but what about me? how will I be? what if I can’t change before turning 18? Will I have to give up that reality? And before someone tries to give me a ‘magical solution,’ it’s not so easy for me to just ‘change his age.’ after all, it’s set in a school environment (everything in that reality revolves around that teenage setting). It’s strange for us to see young adults aged 19 or 21 attending a school, as they should be in college, not high school.

i’ve been torturing myself with this for days, afraid that I’ll never change, and when I finally do, it’ll be after I turn 17. And right after that, I’ll have to give up my partner because I won’t be a teenager anymore; I’ll be an ‘adult’ in that reality.

i would like to be able to ask (with all due respect), for any advice or anything. i am afraid and worried, and anything you can tell me could make a big difference for me. I have been following you for some time, and I trust your help.

i hope you can understand, as I had to use a translator since I am not a native speaker.

that’s all. i hope you have a good day or a great afternoon. may the God you believe in protect you < 3

Hi sweetheart!! I've just read through your ask and I just want you to know first and foremost, that everything you are worrying about is so so valid, but at the same time there is no need to worry about it at all. Let me explain why.

As you and I both understand about shifting is that it is everyone's own personal journey (this also goes for the law of assumption), which means everyone will experience their journey however way they believe is right. But in your case (and in many others), you've seemed to fall into the trap of taking a bunch of people's own beliefs as scripture in fears that you might violate their belief; even though a big chunk of you hungers and aches to experience a specific reality.

I can tell you I have been where you are right now, so I know how you feel, babe😭 and I also want to take that weight off your back and let you know their beliefs do not have to control you and where you want to shift to and what you want to experience. The whole "adults shifting to a reality where they are a minor is wrong" is nonsensical, stupid, and hella silly. For example, There is nothing wrong with being 23 and shifting to be a high schooler again just to relive old memories or do some things differently, because all you are doing is becoming aware of a version of you who is having a bomb ass high school life.

Okay, well, what about the situation you're going through right now. Where you are turning 17 this year, but you are worried that you won't shift before you turn 18; and your boyfriend in your desired reality is 16 but you are still suck on this rule that the shifting community has made where "it is wrong to shift to a reality where you are younger when in this reality you have the mind of an adult." First of all, please let me make sure you guys understand what the process of shifting is. Shifting is when you make the conscious or subconscious decision to become aware of a specific reality. This means you are shifting your AWARENESS. NOT YOUR MIND🙏🏾

Which means that if you are an adult in this reality but you shift to a reality where you are a minor, you will NOT be shifting your adult mind into the body of your teenself. You are shifting your awareness of this reality, into another one. Also another thing. As far as I am concerned, you awareness doesnt have an age🧍🏿‍♀️ just because you might be 32 here and you shift your awareness to a reality where you are 16, does NOT AND I REPEAT. DOES NOT MEAN YOU ARE STILL GOING TO BE MENTALLY THIRTY-TWO.

Okay, so now we've debunked that👆🏾, what about your other issue. You are afraid that because you haven't shifted yet, you won't get to experience the teenage life in various different realities before you reach 18 which is your milestone. And I can already see 2 small problems. 1 is you are basing what you believe might happen on past failed attempts, and 2 is you are rushing yourself

I know how we can solve both of these issues at once. Change your mindset! And this is not hard to do, I promise, okay? I want you to do what you would normally do when you intend to shift realities, which in this case is affirming but anytime you are awake and have the time to. Literally, you could be sat doing your homework, doing dishes, having a nap, or going for a jog, and while you are doing whatever it is you are doing, affirm to yourself:

"I am a master shifter" or "I believe I am a master shifter", "I always wake up I my dr", "I am always shifting to my desired reality" "Shifting realities is easy for me" and one you can just remind yourself is "I will shift before I turn 18"/"I will shift before my milestone"

The purpose of this is to make yourself believe in yourself and your abilities. It should put your mind at ease because the more you affirm to yourself, the more you will believe what you affirm, and there for you will succeed because you believe you will.

I hope this helps you out and lots of love to you!

#shiftblr #reality shift #shifted #reality shifting #shifting #shifters #shifting community #shifttok #shifting antis dni #desired reality #master manifestor #law of assumption #4d reality #loa #drself #loa blog #loablr #loa affirmations #master shifter

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 1 year

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[CN] Victor’s Glacier Date (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 雪川之约, that is yet to be released in the global server! ♡

[Translation Under The Cut]

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

–

✧ [Chapter 1] ✧

“If you should find the time to speak, Then speak to me I’d never keep, You from your…”

The brisk music flows from the stereo, but it’s unable to wash off the slightly low-spirited atmosphere in the car.

MC: [whimpering noise] woo woo woo…

Victor: [sighs helplessly] You’ve been “woo woo-ing” for ten minutes.

Victor: Even if you keep on whimpering, the service area won’t appear any sooner.

MC: I’m just a little depressed. If only I had paid a bit more attention…

–

[FLASHBACK BEGINS]

Three hours ago.

Victor: Are you sure you want to switch with me?

MC: Absolutely!

I bar the car door, speaking righteously.

MC: You were busy dealing with LFG’s affairs till the middle of the night last night and didn’t even get a proper rest. And then you drove all morning today.

MC: Keeping the matter of sound driving in mind, I should share the burden a little too.

MC: And you didn’t let me drive when we went to the desert the last time. So, shouldn’t you satisfy me this time?

–

[Tidbits]: MC is referring to their “Long Journey Date” in EN~

–

MC: Will you, please? Please, please, Victor… don’t you believe in my skills on the highway?

I blink hard and express my sincerity to Victor. He looks at me for a moment, sighing.

Victor: …we’ll switch back after getting to the next service area.

MC: No problem!

I gleefully pull the front passenger door open for Victor and salute him, brimming with confidence.

MC: Passenger, please fasten your seatbelt. Let’s continue our happy trip~

–

After the successful completion of our self-drive tour to the desert last time, Victor and I planned our next trip.

Since we already saw the scorching yellow sands, this time, we’ve planned to head to Northwest China to see the icy, crystal-clear glacier.

Right now, since I’ve got the rare opportunity to be Victor’s long-distance driver, it’s only natural that I must display my most professional side.

However, to be on the safe side, Victor is still occasionally voicing the pointers for me.

Victor: There’s a big car ahead. Steer left.

MC: Mm, I won’t drive in parallel with it.

Victor: Be careful not to squeeze in when turning right... very good.

Victor: It seems that a certain someone really doesn’t need me to remind her anything.

MC: That’s for sure! You can rest easy~

Victor smiles, relaxes his shoulders, and leans back in his seat.

Accompanied by the smooth road and the relaxing music, it doesn’t take long before the breathing next to me becomes light and even.

I quietly give Victor a sidelong glance. His eyes are closed, and a relaxed curve has now crested between his always-taut brows.

I turn down the volume of the navigation and shift away the wind direction of the air conditioner in silence.

MC: The next service area is still forty minutes away. Just have a good rest for forty minutes, big dummy.

Forty minutes later.

MC: The service area is packed!? That…

I look at the electronic signboard standing on the roadside and the densely packed vehicles in the service area ahead. The feeling finally dawns on me that we’ve arrived on a popular tourist route.

The highway is unlike the desert roads from before. On the desert roads, we could stop at any time to look for directions, but this now requires me to make an immediate judgment.

Victor, next to me, is still asleep. So I hesitate for a moment before turning the steering wheel and continuing to move forward.

MC: ...alright, I’ll let you rest for a little longer then.

One and a half hours later.

MC: Service area... service area...

MC: Darn it, did I miss this one just now by forgetting to get off the bridge...

MC: Where can I turn to change direction... oh come on, I’m already so far off to make a turn back...

MC: Whatever. Let’s leave it be. He’s still asleep anyway, so I won’t just tell him––

Victor: Who said I am asleep?

MC: !!!

I don’t know when but Victor has already opened his eyes at some point. He takes a quick look at the gradually darkening sky outside, then sweeps his gaze over the navigation.

Victor: [adorable mixture of yawning and sighing] I don’t remember seeing the route like this before falling asleep.

MC: That... I just took a little detour...

MC: But don’t you worry. I’ll make sure to strictly follow the navigation guidance from here on and will drive back to the service area!

Navigation: 80 km to the service area. Please continue straight ahead.

Victor: ...80 km. It will be dark by the time we get back.

Hearing Victor say this, I feel even more guilty. Just as I’m about to apologize to him, I see him already reaching out to cancel the navigation.

MC: Eh?

Victor: Since this is already the case, it’d be better not to turn back. Let’s change our destination.

His tone is calm and unperturbed, as though my mistakes are nothing worth mentioning in his eyes.

MC: But we had planned to see the Mige Glacier on this trip. We won’t be able to see it if we change our destination...

Victor: I remember that the glacier was simply one of the plans. We originally started out intending to spend our time on this self-drive tour comfortably, am I right?

Victor: If there’s a “pouty teapot” woo-woo-wooing next to me the whole distance, I won’t feel comfortable.

As he says this, I immediately deflate my mouth, causing Victor to laugh out loud. Subsequently, the originally low-spirited atmosphere also loosens up.

MC: So, where are we heading next?

Victor: We still have plenty of time anyway. As a passenger, I’m at the complete mercy of the “driver” and must comply with her plans.

He pauses, raising an eyebrow as he adds.

Victor: A certain someone audaciously dared to venture out on the desert roads. And now, when the signal is good, and the road is smooth, she’s afraid?

MC: Says who?

With such a little provocation from Victor, my enthusiasm is rekindled. I sit up straight again and step on the accelerator.

MC: Eeny meenie miney mo. Wherever we’re headed, that will be our destination for the night!

[FLASHBACK ENDS]

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

✧ [Chapter 2] ✧

Unburdened, I candidly choose a fork in the road relying on intuition and drive down the deviated road.

After turning around a mountain, a stream of beautiful lights appears before our eyes in the twilight.

Colorful flags fluttering on the roadside seem to guide us to the small town in the embrace of the mountains.

MC: “Welcome to LeGong”... Victor, there’s a small town up ahead!

MC: Let’s just get some rest there, shall we?

I breathe a long sigh of relief at the thought of finally being able to rest and dash towards the brilliant rays unrelentingly.

—

After driving another two kilometers down the road, other vehicles from the nearby streets begin to converge, and before long, the entire route is blocked.

MC: Oh, come on…

A vague sense of foreboding sprouts in my heart, and sure enough, several youngsters dressed in local clothes trot over a few moments later and wave vigorously at the vehicles behind.

Youngster: Go, go!

Victor: Hello, is there something wrong at the front?

Youngster: What’s wrong! It’s just the hotels in the town are all full! Don’t stop! Go, go, go!

Victor: All full? There isn’t even a single room?

Youngster: Gosh, we didn’t have anyone coming here before. But no idea why it became so popular this year, and people have been coming like a swarm of bees!

MC: [sarcastically] …did we accidentally arrive at some online celebrity’s scenic spot or something?

Victor and I look at each other, helplessness rushing in our eyes. He contemplates for a moment before calling out to the youngster again.

Victor: Excuse me, we have another question. How far is the nearest town from here?

Youngster: It’s still about a hundred kilometers or so, I think. But all these cars must be heading there now, so it’s likely that there won’t be any place to stay.

Youngster: Oh right, if you guys have the equipment, you can drive to the east.

Youngster: There is a new camping site ten kilometers from here, and there shouldn’t be much of a crowd!

Victor thanks him, and the youth goes off to busy himself with clearing the traffic at the back. I poke him cautiously.

MC: Why don’t we go to the campsite then? From what he said, perhaps we won’t find any place to stop if we keep driving…

Victor: Okay. Get off, and let’s switch places.

MC: What for? We have ten kilometers to go. I can…

Before I can retort, Victor has already opened the car door and stepped out.

First, he goes to the back seat and brings out a black cat doll. And then he skirts around and knocks on my window.

Victor: Vent whatever frustration you have on it. And now, the autocratic capitalist is asking you to give up the driver’s seat.

With that, Victor’s finger is already pressed against my lips. As his finger pad makes its way downward, only then do I realize––

I’ve turned into a “pouty teapot” again!

MC: [makes sobbing noise] …woo!

–

I know clearly in my heart that Victor is trying to ease my mood. After all, misfortunes coming one after another like this have indeed made me a little frustrated.

When I get into the front passenger seat, the black cat doll in my hand becomes a fitting outlet to vent my feelings, and I continue to poke it back and forth indignantly.

My index finger dips into the soft fur of the black cat doll, again and again.

I sneak a glance at Victor. His side profile is as calm as ever, as though all the mishaps just now never even happened.

–

As we get off the highway and wait at the red light, I softly make a “humph” sound, my evil fingers furtively shifting from the doll to the side.

MC: Poking once… poking twice…

First, I poke Victor’s cufflinks. Second, I poke the back of Victor’s hand. And the third time, he’s already clutched my fingertips before they even touch his skin.

Victor: Can’t you behave a little bit?

Victor: I especially gave you a doll. But poking it wasn’t enough, and now you have to mess with the driver?

His thumb runs upwards, gently drawing a punishing scrape against the thin skin on the inner side of my wrist. I give a startled yelp and immediately withdraw my hand.

MC: Humph!

—

Mercifully, we haven’t had any more turmoil along the rest of the journey, and we arrive at the camping base before darkness completely veils everything.

As that local person said, there really aren’t many people here. There was only a group of backpackers outside and a few scattered RVs stationed before we arrived here.

After communicating with the person in charge of the camp, we begin to set up our camping equipment.

When we finally get into the tent, I practically fling myself onto the sleeping bag at once.

MC: At long last, I can lie down…

Before I can finish my deep sigh, I feel a shadow coming up as it covers my head.

Victor supports himself on his elbow on my side, his breaths landing on my cheek.

Victor: Why are you sighing again?

MC: I thought my “eenie meenie miney mo” would be able to pick a unique and unmatched route belonging to the two of us.

MC: But in the end, I didn’t expect that there would still be people everywhere we go.

Victor: Are you upset about there being too many people or about not being able to find a unique and unmatched route?

MC: Both… after all, the opportunity of being able to make arrangements for you is so rare, and you must have hopes for being at least a little surprised.

MC: Why don’t I take a look if there’s any scenic spot nearby where we can go?

Just as I’m about to fish out my phone to search the map, Victor holds my hand down and slowly pulls the phone out of my hand.

Victor: It’s too late. Don’t look.

MC: But…

I still try to take back the phone, but Victor has already clamped my wrists irresistibly, tossing my phone on the other side of the tent while doing so.

Victor: A surprise that is sought after deliberately is not called a “surprise.” If a certain someone can rest peacefully now, that will be a surprise for me.

I open my mouth to protest, but Victor doesn’t give me the slightest opportunity to do so, blocking up all my words directly and efficiently.

Trapped in his breath and arms, that little anxiety of mine gradually dissipates, and I close my eyes.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

✧ [Chapter 3] ✧

Perhaps the fatigue of the long drive during the day has done it, but unexpectedly, I have an unusually sound night’s sleep.

That is until I feel something cool brushing against my cheeks. I can’t help myself from sneezing, opening my eyes in a daze.

I don’t know when, but the tent door has been opened at some point, bringing not only the glittering light into the dusky tent but also a refreshingly cool temperature.

A tall figure is sitting in the doorway of the tent, head lowered as he looks at his phone, shielding me from most of the cold wind outside.

Seemingly hearing my sneeze, he puts down his phone and turns his head, smiling.

Victor: [laughs so preciously] Willing to wake up now?

MC: Victor, why did you wake up so early… WOW, IT’S A GLACIER!!!

The sight in front of me causes my words to take a turn, and I can’t help but gape in excitement––

Behind Victor are awe-inspiringly lofty snow-capped mountains!

The snow-capped mountains are majestic and magnificent. The sunlight draws the outlines of their continuously undulating edges in a golden hue, reminiscent of a landscape that can only be seen in oil paintings.

If the wide-open tent door is regarded as a frame, Victor is like the guardian of this glacier, just like the most crowning touch of the scenery to bring it to life.

Too excited to put on clothes, I simply wrap myself in the sleeping bag and arch up to him.

MC: How come there’s a glacier here?

Victor: I asked someone at the camp just earlier. He said that the glacier in front of us is called “Yukun Glacier,” and the campsite was developed precisely for the view here.

Victor: He was very surprised when he heard me ask, probably wondering how could a tourist come here without knowing anything about the area.

MC: Pffft… that’s an accident on my part, isn’t it?

Victor: From a certain perspective, you did reach your goal by accident–– “to see the glacier.”

Victor casually smooths down my bangs which are in a complete mess, smiling.

Victor: Are you surprised now?

Within a split second, all the depression from yesterday vanishes like smoke in thin air. I wrap my arms around Victor’s neck and give him a big kiss.

MC: Of course! I’m too surprised!

Victor: Take your arms back. Aren’t you afraid of freezing?

MC: Just for a little bit. I’m not cold one bit~

MC: Watching the glacier in the early morning with the person you like by your side is so romantic and beautiful. Don’t you think so, Victor~

Victor: …what’s the beauty about a certain someone being all bundled up like a caterpillar?

Despite saying so, Victor has already pulled me into his arms.

Through the layer of the sleeping bag, I can still feel how firmly Victor’s hands are clasped around my waist.

His chin is rested against my forehead while our warm breaths mingle with the cold air, the early morning kisses lingering ambiguously between our breaths.

Just as I’m thinking about spending a little more lovey-dovey moments with him, a voice suddenly resounds from not far away.

??: Excuse me, are you Mr. Victor?

Victor: [panting mixed with a surprised gasp] …!

Eagle-eyed and agile-handed, Victor immediately stuffs me back into the tent, whose clothing situation is in complete disarray.

Victor: [blushing] Put your clothes on.

With a snort, he’s already zipped shut the tent door.

MC: HAHAHAHAHA…!

It’s very rare to see Victor in such a flustered state. I can’t help but cover my face while bursting into laughter.

My cheeks are still tinged with the heat of his breaths, and my heart is thumping at a blazing speed because of the sweetness that just came to an abrupt end.

After toning down my laughter, I put my sweater on. Very soon, the tent door is opened again, and a shadowy figure lunges on me.

MC: [sound effect of Victor kitty-pouncing on MC] …!

Unable to dodge in time, I’m captured by Victor head-on.

Victor: [alarmingly sexy, deliberately slowed down, low voice] What were you laughing at? I could hear everything from outside.

MC: Pffftt… because the way CEO Victor got flustered earlier, it really looked like…

Victor: [and now he sulks] Looked like what?

MC: It… it… it seemed like we were a young couple caught in the act by the head teacher at school, HAHAHAHA!

Victor: Didn’t I get flustered because a certain someone was being careless?

MC: But you didn’t reject me, did you? And you still wanted to kiss me earlier!

Victor: …

Victor chokes on his words, which is a rare sight. Clearly, he is unable to find any justifications to retort.

Victor: It was the camp’s staff member who came to see me just now.

MC: Victor, are you changing the subject?

Victor: [return of the alarmingly sexy, low voice] …you’re really getting bolder by the day.

MC: No, no, I’m all ears! Why did the staff member come to see you just now?

Not daring to continue messing with him, I immediately hold up my hands in surrender.

Victor: He said that the backpacker group was leaving today, and the cabin in the camp happened to be empty. So, we could rent it if we still wanted to spend the night.

MC: So that means we don’t need to stay in the tent?

Victor: Mm. It depends on what you wish, and if you want to stay here another day.

MC: Of course!

MC: Since we’ve already found our surprise, let’s stay another day and look for more surprises!

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

✧ [Chapter 4] ✧

After that backpacker group leaves, the glacier suddenly becomes our world consisting of only two people.

This time, we don’t intentionally search on the internet or ask around for information about the nearby attractions. We simply drive around the nearby places according to our will.

To the north of the camp is a waterlogged lake near the glacier, where we take lots and lots of photos;

To the east of the camp is an unexplored area of forest, where a little squirrel runs away with a piece of cookie from me, and then we also let it have a taste of Victor’s craftsmanship;

On the south side of the camp, we meet herdsmen who train saddle horses, and Victor also displays his equestrian skills to them;

On the west side of the camp… is the way back to LeGong. And to my surprise, there is a Sichuan restaurant in town, and the food there is unexpectedly delicious! [...]

–

[Tidbits]: Sichuan is a special Chinese cuisine originating from the Sichuan Province~

–

When the sky begins to darken gradually, and the layers of clouds are covered in a gray-blue veil once again, we return to the camping base perfectly satisfied.

The wooden cabin is indeed not luxurious compared to the lodges Victor and I have stayed in on our previous trips, but it does have all the needed facilities available.

The most special feature of this wooden cabin is that one side of the roof is made of frosted glass, which at the moment is glowing with a translucent silver light as the evening twilight filters in.

Pushing open the door, the warm airflow in the room is cozy that it immediately makes me squint my eyes.

For a split second, I suddenly feel that we are not next to the distant glacier, but have returned to the warmth of our home.

I stretch my back and turn my head with a smile.

MC: How was that? I’ve done a pretty good job at being an “aimless tour guide” today, haven’t I?

Victor: [laughs preciously] Mm. Occasionally, a certain someone’s intuition is indeed very amazing.

MC: If I ask you to choose, which was the place you liked the most among the ones we visited today?

Victor: There were things I liked in all of the places.

MC: Eh, since when do you talk with soft-soap like this?

Victor: [chuckles helplessly] It’s not soft-soap. It’s the truth.

Victor gives me a glance. Then, he browses the photo album in the camera in his hand and replies to me simultaneously.

Victor: The waves of the lake were like a fluttering skirt, the ponies were lively and hopping up and down, and the squirrel was also very cute…

Victor: So, there were things I liked in each of the places.

MC: Victor, how come I didn’t realize that you’ve become so good at aggrandized compliments lately?

Victor: [teasingly] I’m just giving aggrandized compliments to the views, nothing more.

Humph, that’s just you being duplicitous. My heart feels as sweet as if I have eaten a hundred caramel puddings. So, I don’t unmask him and just shuffle closer as I sit next to him.

MC: By the way, didn’t the herdsmen we met today say there was a snow-capped mountain around here that we could drive up to?

MC: Let’s go there tomorrow! I’m sure it will be even more magnificent that looking up at the scenery from the foot of the mountain today!

Victor: It depends on the situation. We may not be able to go tomorrow.

MC: Eh?

Victor: It’s gonna be snowing here in this area tonight. And if it snows too hard, there’s a good chance that the road to the mountain will be closed.

MC: It’s gonna be snowing tonight? So can’t we go watch the snow, then?!

Victor: [laughs softly] …so that’s your focus now?

I nod earnestly, giving him an ear-to-ear grin.

MC: Isn’t the biggest lesson I’ve learned on this trip “to take things as they come?”

MC: Even if the plan doesn’t go smoothly, we will find the interesting aspects of the not-so-good things!

Victor is stunned, then the corners of his lips bloom into a gentle and soft curve.

MC: It seems that today a certain someone is not a dummy, but a smart devil.

MC: Hehe~ And sure enough, I like it even more when you praise me so straightforwardly~

MC: Come on, let’s go see the snow!

I’m just about to pull Victor out of the door, but he points me in another direction.

Victor: We don’t need to go out. Let’s go upstairs.

He takes my hand and leads me to the attic of the wooden cabin, where there’s actually a window on the glass roof that can be opened.

Victor pushes open the window, and the rampant cold air from outside comes rushing in the next second.

MC: Ooh… so cold!

I wrap the blanket tightly around me and look out. At this moment, a tiny snowflake just happens to drift in and clings to my cufflinks.

MC: It’s really snowing!

On the windowsill, on the branches of the trees, on the tents in the camp… the snow has already accumulated in bits and pieces, drawing this place completely into a winter world.

The delicate, crystalline snow continues to flutter down in a spiral. Amid the silence of the wilderness, the only sound that can be heard is the very soft, occasional rustling of the pine forest in the distance.

Victor holds up the hurricane lamp, and a warm yellow light softens our vision.

The snowflakes descend onto the glass cover of the oil lamp and soon melt from the heat, turning into tiny frozen rivers that flow down the glass and then disappear.

At the far end of our line of sights, the glacier shining with a silvery glow has been dyed with a layer of heavy indigo, staring at us in silence.

Victor: Cold?

I subconsciously shake my head, pause halfway, and then nod again vigorously. Victor laughs and pulls me into his arms.

Victor: [laughs softly, whispering into your heart] No one will be disturbing us now. We can watch it for a long time.

I lean on Victor’s chest, listening to his steady, powerful heartbeat. After a while, I softly open my mouth.

MC: Victor.

Victor: Hm?

MC: Victor~

Victor: What is it?

MC: Nothing. I just wanted to say your name. Because I think… you’re just so wonderful, extraordinarily wonderful.

MC: Even though today you said that you’d follow me to play around in the nearby places aimlessly, in reality, you already did your research on the surroundings ahead of time, didn’t you?

MC: I originally had no plans to take cookies with us, but you reminded me to do so;

MC: And when we went to the lakeside to take pictures, I was still trying to find a suitable attractive spot, but you were already in position;

MC: And that Sichuan restaurant. It rather seemed like you took me down that road at dinner time on purpose…

Victor: [laughs helplessly and a little shyly at being exposed] I don’t possess such remarkable abilities. Some of them were merely coincidences.

MC: So that means some of them were not coincidences?

Victor: [continuation x2] I got up early today, so I just casually asked around a little more, that’s all.

Victor’s reply does not match up with my grilling, yet it has already answered all my questions.

He is always like this. He is akin to the safest backstop and insurance. Even if the path ahead is uncertain, he will steadily stand side by side with me.

My heartbeat gradually becomes one with his. Amid the quietude, it seems to be the one and only sound that knocks on my eardrums.

The snow begins to fall harder. And in the distance, we can see the flashing headlights of a car. It seems that new travelers are coming to this camping base.

MC: Victor, tomorrow I’ll get up early together with you.

Victor: Still thinking about watching the snow?

I shake my head, turn around, and bury myself in his arms, looking up with a smile on my face.

MC: Before setting off, I’d like to share the surprises we’ve found here with them too.

—

[Calls]: Here!

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

#LOOK AT HIM BLUSHYYYY HNNNNGNNNN WHY ARE YOU SO FRIGGIN PRECIOUS AND ADORABLE #i read several analyses on this date saying “Victor x MC’s relationship makes you feel so happy yet so jealous simultaneously”––#“they make ‘love’ seem so easy yet it leaves you wondering that you might never find something like that bcz what they have is THAT surreal”#& it’s so true!! their relationship is so solid& pure& mature with a clear direction & they’re also childish& rowdy in their unique way LOL #AND THIS MAN. REALLY A MOUNTAIN. THE WAY HE CONTINUES TO RAISE THE BAR OF BEING A PERFECT LOVER AND PARTNER UP TO AND BEYOND... *sighs*#mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #恋与制作人 #李泽言 #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc translations

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theblueflower05 · 8 months

Text

Heavy In Your Arms

A/N: We didn't get enough time at High Camp. I swear, it was the perfect setting for hurt/comfort. Forever upset about it.

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: Explicit smut. Aged Up characters. Talks of PTSD and war. Injuries. Blood. Angst. Cursing. Oral Sex(male receiving). Riding. Service Top Neteyam. Reader with a praise kink.

Summary: You and Neteyam find moments of peace during the war. Neteyam x Fem! Omaticaya Reader

I was a heavy heart to carry,

My beloved was weighted down.

My arms around his neck,

My fingers laced a crown- Florence & The Machine

Life can change in an instant.

One moment, things are as they have always been. Your existence a well loved pattern, easy and comfortable in the Forests of Pandora.

You had been born after the Long War, after the evil Tawtute had been sent back to their dying planet. You had only ever known peace and kind humans like the scientist that lived in the rickety out post. You’d only ever known the rich and abundant rule of Toruk Makto, Jake led your people to victory and prosperity. The Omatikayan Village had been a beautiful one to grow up in, colorful and cheerful and thriving despite all that it had endured.

Your days had been filled with community and childlike wonder.

That had all changed when the Sky People returned. When they set fire to the Forests just to watch the Great Mother bleed.

Your naivety had been stolen, snatched away by uncontrollable circumstances.

By war.

High Camp is nestled deep within the Ayram Alusing hidden in a twisting impenetrable cave system.

It is bustling and busy and just bit cramped.

The Omatikaya are a resilient people and even through forceful uprooting had managed to make due of the space given. The Stronghold is littered with Canvas tents and woven mats. Small burning fires, and a larger one for the communal meals that are so desperately needed after long days battle.

You spend most of your time in the main healers keklu, working tirelessly with Mo’at and the other medicine leaders. You’d never been much of a healer, always more of a story teller. You’d get lost in the tales of old, in the songs of the ancient ones, but since the invasion, most had honed their medical craft.

It was all hands on deck, wherever you could be helpful you would be.

It’s good. Keeping your hands full is a good thing. It helps to distract your restless mind.

The War Party had left early in the morning- the sun still hiding behind the shadow of the eclipse, and had still not returned yet. You fear that it might be one of those missions, the kind that lasts days and leaves the village in shambles as they wait for the return of the warriors.

You’re grinding Ti’ku’klu seeds into a fine paste, your arm tired as you stare wordlessly into nothing.

The healers tent is quiet, filled with only low chatter and the crackling of the fire, the boiling of the pot that contains a potent medicine. One that needs to be kept hot and steaming. You cant seem to be present, to keep up with conversation when your mind is so far away- soaring over the forest. Focused on the unseen battle

This would be a dangerous one, you’d heard the whispers of the people. The humans were growing sick of the raids. They had heavy precautions laid out- would kill any Na’vi on sight. You trusted your Olo’eyktan whole heartedly, truly, you did.

But the thought of having to lay any more of your brothers and sisters to rest made bile raise in your throat like acid. There had been so much death, so much loss.

You sneak a peek at the woman next to you as she works in sorting bandages.

Zephya is only a few years older than you- and yet the light seems to be gone from her eyes. Dimmed down to something small and wilting. You’d never forget the piercing sound of her cries, echoing off the rock cave walls as her munxatan’s (husbands) body was brought back from the last raid.

Another round of nauseating anxiousness churns in your stomach.

You dont know if you could survive it…

Would you be forced to? Would this war force you to watch the ones you loved die?

The thought of losing your own lover is enough to send you free falling. Spiraling into your own mind.

“That is quite enough” Mo’at tuts her tongue in your direction and you stare at her with a wide, almost guilty expression. Had the Tsahik heard your thoughts? Sometimes you didnt doubt the elderly woman could, with all of her boundless knowledge and those all knowing amber eyes “You will destroy the paste, it is not meant to be so thin”

“Oh” you feel like dunce as you look down at the mortar and pestle in your hand “I apologize, I just wanted to make sure it was well mixed”

“Hmm” she doesn't call your bluff “Why dont you take a break. Go find more herbs, the fresh air wll clear your head. You’re no used to me here with thoughts so loud”

Her words are casual but her gaze is knowing and warm and you nod eagerly “Of course, Tsahik”

You’re happy for the break and the opportunity to stretch your legs, you stand quickly and exit the incense heavy area.

Everyone has gotten good at pretending.

At pretending they’re not terrified, at trying to go on with any semblance of normalcy. The scientists still gather near their trailers, facemasks on and typing away at holo tablets. The karyus’ still teach the younglings, their little giggles can be heard in the distance. You smile, a very practiced mask, at any you pass. Are pleasant. Friendly. Not betraying the inner turmoil you feel-

You’re jostled out of the heavy thoughts.

Nearly rushed straight on your ass, more like it.

“Oof-” the wind is knocked out of you as a small but solid weight collides with your side. You look down and find big golden eyes string up at you- golden eyes so familiar.

“Y/N! Hi!” Tuktirey is the youngest Sully, and probably the one you’ve always been the cloestst to. Back home, years ago, she’d become a bit enamored with you. More specifically, you’re weaving and jewelry crafting skills. Many teased that she was your shadow. “Look, look’it what I made”

You cant help but grin. Her joyful energy is contagious and you’re glad for the distraction. You take the necklace she shoves into your face delicately. Run your fingers over the rows of mis matched beads. She really is quite good.

“Very pretty, Tuk. You’re getting so good! Soon you;ll take my place- the whole clan will be trampling over themselves to wear one of your pieces” You’re words make her blush, make the smile on her face go a bit shy and bashful.

She looks so much like her brother it hurts.

“I did that thing you showed me! You’re right- sometimes the bigger beads need the little ones to anchor them”

Tuk is rarely quiet, always a babbling brook but even she isnt immune to the tense atmosphere that looms, to the toretoure that is waiting for the warriors to return. She talks about the necklace, but her tail flicks nervously behind her. At her side, a carved wooden Toruk toy hangs in her loose grip.

You figure, maybe you can distract her too.

You reach for the toy and she holds tight to it before sighing. You’re probably going to take it, she thinks. Tell her to stop being annoying. Chastise her the way that others had when she’d tried to get them to play with her. All day long, everyone had turned their heads or sighed in annoyance when she’d approached-

You raise the wooden Toruk above her head- and let out an undignified squawk. Your best impression of the mighty beast. It’s dismal, but it seems to satisfy the little girl who instantly breaks out into giggles.

“You better run, Tuk Tuk” you grown payfully, sending the toy into a nosedive “Before I eat you whole”

She shrieks and sets out running in the opposite direction and take after her, ignoring the stares. Should you be back in the medicine tent helping? Maybe. You’d rather play with the seven year old instead.

The two of you play for a while, until your thighs burn and your lungs hurt from laughing. You dont have the endurance of a child, she runs absolute circles around you. She’s fast and agle and quite obviously takes Neytiri’s lessons to heart, even at her young age. You can only use your size to you’re advantage, picking her writing squirming body up and spinning her round-

The horn is loud and echos through the rock walls of the cavernous case.

Both yours and Tuk’s ears swivel, perk up and stand to attention.

There it is. The calls of your people. The sounds of ikran wings flapping.

Tuk writhes in your hold, the back of her head connecting with your lip painfully as she hollers joyfully “They’re back!”

Shes off then, only sparing you a quick glance as you seem to stand there in daze, rubbing your slightly split lip lightly as your stomach does somersaults.

“Come on!” The little one hollers back at you and your feet carry you forward, seemingly of their own volition.

The crowds are building as the people make their way for the edge, where ikrans land by the dozen. Carrying the warriors on their back. Along the way, Kiri and Spider join you. Eagerly bouncing along, following an over animated Tuk.

Excitement and dread bubbles in your stomach, a horribly potent and toxic mix. It’s always like this when they return. When he returns. You’re so anxious to see him, physically there. Alive. So anxious that he might not be-

Your eyes are peeled for the familiar swirling green and blue patterns of Atanzaw, his ikran.

“Mom!” Tuk screeches, of course she spots them first.

Your eyes follow her,

Straight to him.

Neteyam.

He dismonts his ikran, alot less gracefully then his mother did. His actions sluggish and unlike him- it only takes you a moment to notice how injured he is. The bleeding wounds and bruises that litter his body arent pretty and hes limping, not putting his full weight on his right thigh. His face in smeared war paint- blacks and yellows and greens. They make him look intense, as he stangs tall and muscular and still fully dressed in his tsamsiyu(warrior)garb.

When his gaze meets yours your breath gets stuck in your throat.

Usually when he returns they’re bright. The adrenalin of the fight still cursing through his veins like wildfire- this time thats drained. His eyes are filled with barley concealed dread. Sharp with pain.

Your fingers itch and your chest aches, the invisible string that ties you to him taught. You want nothing more then to go to him-

“Sully’s, fall in” Jake’s voice is booming and stern. All Olo’eyktan. Marine. War leader. You can barley recognize him like this. So far away from the carefree doting father he’d always been.

-Its a small thing. A barely there shake of Netryam’s head but it sends a clear message. He doesn't want you to approach. When he turns away from you, giving you the necessary but cold shoulder your unsettled stomach lurches.

It’s like it plays out in slow motion, you watch the family from the edge. An outsider. Not welcome in their obviously private conversation. Even Spider, a human, get’s to be closer than you do.

You’re unwelcome.

The heated words. The way that Jake scolds his sons, you’re not supposed to be privy to it.

“Jesus, I let you two geniuses lead a fleet and you disobeyed direct orders!”

Those words hurt you, for him. You know that they must peirce right through Neteyam. He still hasnt looked back in your direction and you are sure he doesnt want you to bare witness to any of it.

You slink away, slowly falling back. Fading into the background of loved ones reuniting. Warriors returning, alive and dead. The clan welcoming them back with open arms. You wish, as you so often do, that you could welcome Neteyam the same. That you could run into his arms. Hold him the way you ache to after these difficult and dangerous missions-

You convince yourself that you are content with just knowing that he is alive, and make your way back to the healers tent where your presence is wanted.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It gets so cold in the mountains. Frigidly so.

The wind whips through the caves, leaving a bone deep chill in their wake. You keep the fire at the center of your tent going all night long, and can normally be found crouching at it’s hearth. It’s been raining on and off all day, torrential down pour to drizzles- from the sound it seems as though it has finally stopped. Quieted down.

You wonder if the sky is clear and the stars are bright. You miss climbing high into the trees after the evening eclipse. Miss gazing at the constellations, miss basking in the Pandoran night and listening to the sound of the forests.

Mo’at had sent you home, demanding you get some sleep.

It had been three days since the soldiers had returned and they had been very busy. Full of tending to the wounded, and organizing for the dead. You’d thrown yourself headfirst into anytask that was given to you. Kept yourself busy. Useful.

You didnt have the time to mope and obsess over a man that was not yours.

That is what you told yourself at least.

This…thing that you and Neteyam shared didn't have a name or a definition. It had started out of loneliness, out of the desperation for comfort. Before the humans had come back and brought their war upon the clan, you dont think the future Olo’eyktan had ever really looked at you twice. Violence and hurt had pushed you into eachothers arms, both of you seeking companionship. Someone to weather the storm with.

It wasnt love. Not to him, you know that. He would marry a woman with high standing one day- one that could be his match. Become Tsahik.

That wouldnt be you.

For Eywa’s sake, you could barely do stitches. You messed up simple tasks like making salves. You would not delude yourself into thinking it was anything more. Many Na’vi couple without mating, pleasure isn't stigmatized in your community. That was all it was. A need for pleasure. Your body satiates him and that is all.

You cant go looking for him. Begging for his time or his touch.

So you sit by your fire, thread your necklaces, and long for the stars.

You’re humming a tune to yourself, something soft and gentle and melodic when theres a sudden shift. The canvas wall of your tent shakes and your stiffen, reaching for your knife that lies on the makeshift table next to your bed-

Neteyam slips through the flap- easy as anything. Smoothly, his motions fluid from all of those years of training.

Your eyes and mouth are wide open, ears lying low to your head.

“Hi” the man grins, boyish and handsome as ever.

As though he hadnt just broken into your home. It’s not like the two of you hadnt done this before, he’d spend many nights sneakily tucked inside your tent but he usually came through the front entrance.

“Vonva!(asshole)”you hiss at him, exasperated “You- ugh! I couldve stabbed you!”

He’s so handsome it makes you sick. He’s so tall and broad, a few of his braids falling into his face as his eyes sparkle with mirth “That would not be very nice of you, what have I done to deserve such a fate?”

“Breaking and entering is grounds for stabbing” you huff “you scared me!”

Neteyam steps forward a bit, hands out stretching to you, tone gentle “Hey, I didnt mean to scare you. I just wanted to see you is all, Im sorry”

You hate the way that you’re so easy for him. He ignores you for days, and then shows up unannounced and you’re jumping at any and all attention he may give you.

The way that as his large hands engulf the tops of your arms, you lean into his touch greedily.

“It’s fine. It's just- very late. I wasn't expecting anyone” you try to keep your tone even “I was actually about to go to bed”

“Oh?” Neteyam wonders, his tail flicking behind him “Can I join you?”

Your heart speeds up, if thats even possible. Both at his words and his tone. The insinuation right there. He had spent too much time in your bed that really, it shouldn't be a question. You'd always welcomed him into your nest of blankets, your warm arms. In between your soft thighs-

“I'm not sure that would be a good idea” you respond, stepping out of his hold.

Neteyam sags a bit, surprised. His ears swivel and his smile weans, tugging downwards at the corners of his full lips “Not a good idea? Why not?”

You shrug, not able to look directly at him. Instead focusing on his shoulders. His abdomen. He’s still all banged up, the bandaging covering his bruises are expertisley wrapped. Done by the Tsahik herself, obviously.

It’s the perfect excuse.

“You’re still hurt,” you insist ”You need to be careful, you don't want to reopen anything”

A smooth chuckle escapes him and makes a tingle run down your spine. He reaches out again, this time he grabs at your hand, leading it from its place awkwardly at your side to his chest. Pressing your palm gently against his warm skin.

“I'd like to stay with you tonight, if you’ll let me” Neteyam starts, you can feel the vibrations of his strong voice in your palm, pressed against the muscle “I may need you to be a little bit gentle with me though, paskalin”

You're quiet, lips quirked, stuck in your head for a moment as your fingers lightly trace over one of his stripes.

“Y/N, hey-” He seems to be more serious than before as he urges you to look at him “I'm not sure what’s wrong, but If you want me to go I will”

Everything in your body, your soul, protests at his words. There is no part of you that wants him to leave.

You’re being so stupid.

Neteyam could have anyone. Anyone. And he’s here, with you. So what if he doesnt love you. You have to take whatever you can get. You dont want him to find solace with anyone else, dont want him to leave and never return-

You lean in, where your hand is, on his strong chest and place a kiss to the edge of the bandaging. Its a small little thing, a barley there brush of your lips but still. When you look up at him through your lashes you know you must make quite the sight.

“Stay” you urge. “I want you to stay with me tonight,” everynight. ”Please?”

He looks unsure for just a moment, clearly thrown off by your conflicting mood, before he nods. He cups the side of your face then, forcing you to make eye contact with him. No matter how uncomfortably intense- you cant turn away.

“Can I kiss you?” His words make you quake. He hadnt asked, so explicitly, for months. Since the two of you were still fumbly and newly exploring eachothers bodies.

It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, makes you giddiously nervous. You nod, way too hard “Mhmm”

And then he’s bending down, having to crouch because of how much taller he is, to capture your lips with his own.

Its always so good.

His mouth and the way it tastes and the way it makes you feel. Neteyam seems so sweet, everyone in the clan knows him as the Golden Boy. The perfect soldier- in privacay, in these stolen moments of intimacy, he’s anything but.

His kisses are dirty, all demanding tongue and nipping fangs. He kisses like a man whos trying to get his dick wet. Like he wants to pick you up, crush you to him. Rut into you-

And normally he would. Normally he tosses you around like nothing but a child’s ragdoll(and you let him), but he’s still hurt. Still tender and healing. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug, trying to climb him like a tree, he hisses in pain,.

“Shit” you pull away from his mouth, your lips wet with his saliva “Sorry, I didnt mean to”

He just shakes his head, nuzzling at your cheek “It’s fine, I’m okay”

“Im hurting you” you argue.

“You’re not. Just- be gentle, okay?” Neteyam urges, trying to lean back into the kiss “Grandmother thinks they’ll heal quickly, but my ribs-” he breaks himself off, laughing a little strained. “I fucked them up pretty good”

You frown.

He always does this. Always downplays his pain. You will have none of it, you grab his hand and tug “Come, I will make you tea”

Neteyams hairless brows raise “You dont have to, I’m really fine”

“Bah” you lead him to your bed and push gently on his shoulders until he sits. “Enough, it is no trouble”

You keep an ornate clay kettle next to the fire, boiling water always ready. He watches you as you fiddle with the many little jars in your arsenal, collecting herbs here and there. Steeping them in the hot water before pouring him a steaming cup.

“Here- it is bitter, but it will dull the pain”

Neteyam accepts the tea with a small smile “Irayo(thank you)”

It’s nice having him in your space. In your bed amongst all of your softest things as the fire crackles and illuminates the tent in a warm glow.

The shadows it casts over his angular face make him look haunting. So beautiful.

You like to take care of things. Instruments. Broken pottery. Children. It comes naturally to you.

You dote on him even though he protests, check his bandages and make him drink the whole cup of strong leaf tea, before he lies down. You're perched beside him, still on the edge of the bed mat.

“I didn't come here to be nursed, Y/N” he sighs as you rub salve on one of his nastier bruises.

“Humor me” you reply wryly, your dainty fingers all over him.

It takes him a while to relax, as it always does.

But oh, its your favorite thing.

Watching his walls come down and the facade of Olo’eyktan in training slip. Neteyam is funny and witty and a downright gossip. You enjoy talking to him as much as you enjoy getting fucked by him.

You like that when given the opportunity and the ear to do so; he loves to talk. About any and everything. His deep voice is like a blanket, warming you up from the inside out.

“I feel bad. I sneak in here; scare you and then make you take care of me” He snorts, “You must be so sick of me”

“No” you reassure with gentle touches “Never that”

You dont really know what Neteyam sees in you.

You’re pretty enough- but far from the gorgeous warriors and dancers that throw themselves at him. But when he looks at you, like he is now, you know there must be something. Something that turns those eyes of his to molten amber. They’re hungry, you’ve never seen him look at anything the way he looks at you. Except maybe the prey that ends up victim to his arrows.

He makes you want to be good to him. Be good for him.

“I enjoy taking care of you” you whisper as you trace the leather cords of his tweng, your fingertips dipping dangerously below them. “Can I take care of you tonight, Neteyam? You want me to?”

Neteyam nods slowly, making room for you as you climb carefully over him. Spread his legs enough for you to settle between them.

You cant help it, cant help how much you touch. You cant get enough of the feeling of his strong body under your hands. All of that corded muscle, all of his pretty deep tahini speckled skin. His strong calves, his well built thighs.

When you reach where he’s hard, straining against his cloth, his eyes flutter closed. You rub him until he chubs up, all plump and hard. Until a patch of wetness starts to darken the cloth-

“Help me a little, sayrip(handsome)”you urge as you tug on the strings of his tweng. Neteyam lifts his slim hips, helps you shimmy it down his thighs-

You’ve seen him naked more times then you can count, now. But still. You’re always struck by it.

His cock springs free- thuds against his well toned lower stomach. Drooling and pulsing, the tanhi there exceptionally bright. He’s so pretty, so vulnerable that it goes to your head. Your leaning in, tongue first-

“Wait,” Neteyam gruffs, “I want to see you too”

Ah.

Neteyam was very partial to your body. He’d told you many times- would try to wrangle you out of your skirt whenever he got the chance.

You smile, raising up on your knees before tugging the gossamer top off, over your head, Your nipples are hard and peaked, reacting to the cold. You run your fingertips over them, knowing that he likes a show. He likes to watch. He props himself, arm behind his head as he does so, it feels so lewd to play with your breasts for him. To trail your hands slowly down your tummy, to your full hips- tugging on the strings of your own tweng.

When the mound of your pussy is revealed he groans, he can see the way your slick shines in the low fire light.

“Good Mother” Neteyam’s rough and demanding as he yanks on you, pulls you into a kiss “You’re so fucking sexy”

His kiss is fervent and you could so easily lose yourself to them- you know what he wants. He’s already inching closer to your hot wet slit, his big fingers kneading at your plush asscheeks.

“Lemme take care of you” your mumble is insistent, and he sighs. Letting you pull away. Letting you re situate yourself between his legs.

He just lays back flat once more, a lazy grin on his face. “Okay, baby. Take care of me”

You’d always loved giving pleasure with your mouth, and lovers you’d had before had told you how good you were at it. You liked the taste and feel of a heavy cock on your tongue.

With Neteyam, as everything seems to be, it’s different. You dont just like giving him head, you love it.

You love the way that he jerks when you give his rosy tip that first little lick. You love the salty tang of his precum, so much that you spread it all over. Your lips, your cheeks. You rub his cock along your face, nuzzling it. Your cheeks, chin and nose wet with him. You love the way it stretches your lips as you take him into your mouth- he’s the biggest you’ve ever had and it pushes you to your limit. The hinge of your jaw aching as you force him down your throat.

“You’re such a good girl for me” Neteyam praises you, all choppy. His long fingers tangled in your waist length hair.

That is what you adore the most.

The Omaticayan prince is so vocal. He’s all whimpery moans and deep gritty groans. He lets you know exactly what he likes and doesn't like. And he rains down praise on you like its his job.

You’re his good girl. His sweet berry. His little whore..

You take it so well. So- ah- determined for him. You ram him down your tight convulsing throat ,until you’re sobbing around his dick. Never trying to pull away. Eager to get him off.

It is the most shameful position you’ve ever been put in. You’re addicted to the way that me makes you feel- you could never allow yourself to be this with anyone else.

“I-Im close” He warns as though that's not exactly what you want.

“Good” you hum, before diving back in. Suckling on the head and the sensitive sides of his shaft over and over. Just like you know he likes it.

It doesn't take long at all, you can feel him twitching n your mouth. His balls, so full and swollen, start to pull up, taught and ready to blow.

“Oh fuck, Y/N. Fuck”

He gasps as he knots his fingers at your scalp, as he holds on for dear life, his hips swiveling madly. His belly concaving with his heaving, rapid breaths as as his orgasm rips through him.

It’s a good one. You can tell. He’s biting his lips bloody and grinding his head back into your pillows, eyes tightly closed as he rides the waves of pleasure. The whole time, he fists your hair, holding your face to his crotch.

You take his cum, all of it. Popping the tip on your mouth and catching the thick spurts with your tongue. He tastes so good, it feels so intimate to get to have him like this. You close your eyes and savor it, dont pull off until he's twitching and whining with over sensitivity.

You sit back on your haunches, wiping your messy mouth clean with the back of your hand and assessing the damage.

Neteyam is all shivery, his arm thrown over his face as he comes down from the high. He’s still struggling to catch his breath and you cant help the pride that

“You feeling any better, baby?” the human term of affection rolls off your lips, smug and sultry and he laughs behind his arm.

It takes a few moments, but he finally collects himself “You are way too good at that” he’s told you before, but repeats it as he pulls you close. You’re perched in his lap, his strong arms around your waist as he holds you close.

“I like watching you” you admit between the pecking kisses “I like the way you come”

He smiles into your mouth, you can feel his sharp canines on your lips “That’s my good girl”

You full body shiver at the praise, gritting your forehead against his and breathing through your nose in an attempt not to lose it. You're gushing between your legs, your thighs a sticky mess and your cunt swollen and blood hot.

“Your turn, huh? Come on, I know that pussy has to be needy. You want me to eat it?” Neteyam whispers hotly in your ear and you just groan.

And while his skills with his tongue are legendary, you’re feeling particularly empty, needing to be full of him after weeks of distance “Mmm, no. Want you inside of me”

“Can do” he affirms, his hands going to your hips, nudging you “Lay down, I’ll fuck you, paskalin. I’ll fuck you so good. Wanna’ stretch you out”

“Wait” you press a hand to his chest when you notice the grimace on his face. The one he’s trying to hide as he attempts to lift you “You’re still hurting, Nete”

“I’ll be fine, I’ve got you” He assures, stubbornly “I want you to feel good, too”

He’s not the only one who's stubborn. You wiggle out of his grip, pressing down firmly on his chest.

“We can try something else” you suggest, really not wanting him to hurt himself even worse. Neteyam can get…intense when hes fucking you. It’s all very physical, he pours buckets of sweet down onto you as he works your body.

“You want to get fucked” He reminds you, his hips jerking up pointedly so that you can feel his erection between your legs.

Eywa, yes you do. You want him, you want him to carve his way into your body. To bully your tight walls until they accommodate his wide girth.

You bite your lip and reach for his length, pumping his cock thats still wet with your spit before leaning in close so that you can whisper in his ear “We’re just going to have to compromise”

Neteyam is huffy until you sink down onto him and ride him until neither of you can formulate thoughts.

Until you’re boneless, tangled limbs and buried under your quilts.

The afterglow is your favorite.

Neteyam is always so gentle and tender after sex. He holds you, lets you lie your head on his chest and listen to the steady thrumming beat of his heart as he plays with your hair. The only thing that could make this better is if he reached for your kuru. Is if you got to experience Tsaheylu with him-

It’s not fair,

How could he expect you not to fall in love with him?

The quiet stretches on. The fire is dim and dying and the tent is mostly black, night creeping in and covering you both in darkness.

“I’m sorry” his voice almost startles you, his words confusing and unexpected “I’m sorry I ignored you- the day we came back. I was trying to figure out how to calm my dad down. He was so pissed and Lo’ak’s attitude only makes it worse-”

You don't say anything. You just keep listening to his strong heart.

“I didn't mean to hurt your feelings”

You don't respond for a while. You don't want to shatter the atmosphere that is shimmy fly wing delicate “I was just happy to see you alive. It terrifies me, that you’ll leave on one of these raids and never come back. I dont- I wouldn't know what to do if that happened”

“I'm not going to leave, Y/N” his arms tighten around you and you close your eyes, relishing the way he holds on to you. It makes you feel like maybe you're not the only one desperate for this to never end.

“Do you promise?” You sound young, look so small in his big arms.

“I promise”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Weeks later, The Sully’s leave the tribe.

They’re running, fleeing for the good of the Omaticaya people- that is what Jake says. He claims it is for the best. You have never doubted his prowess as Olo’eyktan until that moment.

The tribe mourns, falls into great sorrow as the family says their goodbyes.

You can not bear to look. You drown in your tears and hide in the crowd. Will not meet Neteyams gaze no matter how much he tries to get you to.

When he mounts his ikran and takes to the skies you feel something inside of you shatter. He disappears into the vast horizon.

Neteyam leaves.

You were a fool to believe he’d keep his promise.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Welp. Um hi guys lol. I was like let me post something short and sweet to come back with before I start hitting you guys with all of my Kinktober prompts next month. Somehow I ended up with a 5k angst filled what could be first chapter of a series. LOL I HATE MYSELF AND THE FACT THAT I CANT WRITE ONE SHOTS.

I literally don't have the time to work on another story, but if this one was a little too much angst, I'd be glad to give us a fix it Part Two.

This will be the last kind of stand alone update until after October. If you havent alread, check out Luna’s( @pandoraslxna )Kinktober prompt list. She is such a gem for cultivating it and helping keep this fandom alive and thriving.

As usual, please leave me some feedback. Good, bad(not mean though lol my psyche’s very fragile rn) I want to hear your thoughts!

Love ya, pretty babies!

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam angst #neteyam x na'vi!reader #aged up neteyam #neteyam sully

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dawndelion-winery · 2 months

Text

How To Ask You Out

Scaramouche × GN! Reader

Scara would never doubt himself when it came to you. He might be uncertain about many things, but the burning passion he harboured for you was unquestionable. So much so that it had never really occurred to him that you did not necessarily feel his affection for you; surely, you must have caught on already?

It was difficult for him to accept that his habit of repressing his emotions had made all of his gestures and hints far too subtle for you to catch onto. How unfortunate it was, so many of his unspoken confessions fell unnoticed, like the leaves in autumn being shed one by one. He had tried numerous different ways, each method failing to hold your attention enough for you to notice it was more than a fleeting whim on his part.

Truly, how could you not feel the warmth in his hand when he reached for yours to lead you to something he wanted to show you? Could you not feel his excitement to share whatever it was he had stumbled upon in the way he tapped your shoulder or upper arm? There was no way you did not know how averse he was to physical contact with people, yet he touched you so easily, as if being close to you was as natural as breathing. Did that mean nothing to you? He adored how he could lay his head in your lap as you brushed his bangs out of his face with such a gentle caress he was certain you had to have felt the same way. In those moments, he bit his tongue, unable to form the words that would give him the clarity he sought. It was so simple, an easy fix, a straightforward solution to his dilemma, and yet the hardest thing he had ever had to do.

"I love you," he'd murmur every night once you'd fallen asleep. And perhaps that was the reason you could've sworn you dreamt of him confessing to you, sparking a spiral of thoughts about dating him. Slowly but surely, you developed feelings too.

However, your friend, as cold as he was, was equal parts dense, too busy wallowing in his pining to notice his affections were reciprocated. Each day, he ached for you, and had he not been cut loose of his puppet strings, he'd most certainly have handed the reins to you if only it would make you finally see the extent of his devotion that went beyond simple friendship.

Once more he found himself scowling as you introduced him as your dearest friend. He had to admit, there was some inkling of pride in being the dearest among your dear friends, but he'd always been inclined to greed, tempted to perpetually reach for more having been so accustomed to losing everything.

"Your hair's a mess," he commented, seemingly apathetically. You'd woken up late and hadn't had time to check yourself in any reflective surface as you threw on whatever was on top of your dresser and headed out. He thought it was cute, not that it seemed that way.

"I was in a rush," you huffed, averting your eyes as you mused a hand through your hair hoping it'd neaten somewhat.

"Here." How convenient his anemo vision was, for him to hover around you to get the perfect angles on your hair as he helped you tidy it. There was a gentle dexterity in his touch so unlike the gruffness in his words that you knew was far more reflective of who he was than the prickly persona he put up.

"Thanks," you said as your eyes met his. And for a second, you wondered what you could do if you'd had no fear. Would he catch you if you let yourself fall headfirst? You had no way of knowing, and yet the breeze around you blew your worries away. "You're act like you're my boyfriend sometimes."

He froze up at your words, some unknown expression dancing across his face. "Maybe I should be," he murmured. His azure eyes locked onto yours, voice as soft as his gentle caress, brushing a few stray strands out of your face. Except there wasn't anything on your face to brush away - nothing but his cool, slender fingers. His touch seemed to crackle with electricity, but you were certain it was nothing more than your imagination; his gentleness was more akin to the sweet spring gales that made the flowers dance to the songs of leaves.

"Yeah..." you responded, " maybe you should."

Scara's eyes lit up at your response, his excitement laced with wariness. There was an inkling of uncertainty as he scanned your face, as though anxiously seeking any subtle signs of deception.

"Maybe I will be, then," he said finally. And who would've thought? It seems asking you out was much easier than he'd gotten himself worked up over.

Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyamori @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating

#astronetwrk #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scara #scaramouche #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin scara #wanderer x reader #genshin wanderer #winery specials

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kingkatsuki · 3 months

Note

omg arranged marriage with dragon king bakugo 😱 imagine you’re a princess from far far away and you’ve heard of the brutality of the dragon king, known for his skills in battle and showing no mercy. You don’t want to be betrothed to such a brute from the dragon lands! you enjoy the crisp air, the twinkling streams and your silken garments. You’re quite spoilt really with your silky hair and soft skin, draped in the finest of fabrics. Such a contrast to katsuki when you meet him at first. Hair coarse and spiked, skin hardened like leather, brash voice and abrasive personality, not a speck of manners to be seen. And their clothing?? leather, furs, dragon skin and skulls; showing off their chiselled forms, how could anyone live like this? with the humid air and suffocating heat. You smile, in politeness only. And he despises you. You’re such a pretty little thing, so fragile.. yet such a fucking brat. You’ve had it so easy, never had to claw your way to the top, fight tooth and nail to survive, so peaceful in your ivory tower. and something something idek I got carried away!!

- 🎀

You were the most prized possession from your Kingdom, but Bakugou would’ve rather taken riches or land to form an allegiance, this just seems like a burden.

He sets an area up for you in his Kingdom, gives you everything you desire to live comfortably and it’s like he just leaves you to it. Makes no effort to say good morning or goodnight, doesn’t eat with you, spend time with you, wash with you or even lay with you at night. Despite the fact that you’re now bonded— it’s about as loveless as an arrangement like this can get.

You suppose you should be thankful, glad that he’s not living up to his reputation by claiming you as his each night or throwing you around, staking his mark and claim on you— but for some reason you��re not.

You spend your days reading, arranging the flowers that your maids bring you each week as they brighten up the dreary, cold four walls you spend most of your time inside. The only times you leave them is to wander around the grounds, admiring the plants that grow here. The flowers made for harsher conditions compared to your homeland, the ones thriving where yours wouldn’t survive.

It’s not until one afternoon that Mina is bringing you in a fresh bouquet to replace the ones beginning to wilt, asking her to leave the petals so you can flatten and seal them in the pages of your books. Your fingertips tracing the new stems as she helps you clip their thorns and you ask where she picked them.

“Oh, I didn’t pick them.” She smiles knowingly, as you look at her in confusion. If she didn’t pick them who did?

“The King noticed how much you loved flowers in your homeland,” She smiles, “He brings these back each week from his hunts, picked especially for you.”

You wonder why a man so cold, so brash would waste his time picking flowers for you when it’s so far from what you picture him to be. Nothing like the stories that circulated your Kingdom about a callous, cruel leader.

“He’s not all bad, you know,” Mina places a warm hand on your shoulder as she leaves you to arrange the stems inside the vase.

“How did he even know I liked flowers?”

“He saw you walking the grounds and picking out flowers. He actually asked Kirishima to try and plant some more for you too, the flowers from your climate would never survive here so he was discussing perhaps a greenhouse.”

“Why would he do that for me when he hates me?” Raising a brow in confusion as you smoothed your fingers over the pointed leaves.

“It might not seem like it, but he does care.” Mina smiled as she exited your room.

And this is the first evening where you actually desire to leave your room, walking the halls in search of your husband—

#dragon king bakugou #🎀anon

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harfanfare · 11 months

Text

Rollo Flamm x Reader || Rhythm

Warnings: Understated jealousy (?), Reader can’t dance (wants to, though), provisioning of unrequired love, female reader.

The girl that dances atop the stage is really pretty.

It’s not you, and with some kind of regret, you concede you’ve never properly learned to dance.

The girl is more beautiful than the starry night above the City of Flowers because she feels like a dream. Stars will be tomorrow too, but her? No one knows, so all eyes are on her, to balm each’s heart with her sight.

Her steps are graceful and the way she moves is enchanting. It’s not an easy choreography either - with so many jumps and twirls and turns - but she makes it seem so because a smile never leaves her face. The fabric of her dress follows her faithfully, and you imagine she will look incredible in every photo taken of her.

“She’s so… beautiful,” someone next to you breathes with awe.

You believe Rollo thinks so too.

Even if the thought of never being looked on like that stings, you can only blame yourself as he didn’t want to come here at all. When you suggested checking out the show that is being held in a Topsy-Turvy Event Hall, Rollo scolded you for distracting yourself. It might be a Friday evening when most of the students are already headed to the dormitory, but the work of student council members is never done. Before the weekend, at least.

Your whingeing has been guerdoned: Rollo agreed on taking a break. He was hesitant while doing so, and almost annoyed at the cheery smiles that appeared instantly on three faces, yours, the vice president’s and a school treasurer’s. The papers and cups of cold tea were left instantly, and in the next few minutes, all four of you were heading down the staircase.

…

A square is crowded every season with tourists, so neither you nor Rollo is surprised that the two other students got separated from you before even reaching the main stage. You are thankful for their attentiveness because it allows you to be alone with Rollo.

“They are selling enchanted drinks again!” You exclaim, pointing to a stall with indigo macrame hung around a tent. Some attractions were opened at certain seasons a year, and you remember the elixirs being a hit last year.

“It looks like so,” Rollo states flatly. “I wonder why people are so fixated on this kind of never-lasting things.”

Knowing Rollo is a man of harsh words, you brush off his comment.

Blue potion with edible glitter — you are sure it’s edible glitter because most of the useful mixtures are rather lustreless — catches your eye. It looks like a piece of starry sky tucked into a glass bottle. It’s also supposed to help you with your studies if you drink it, so it’s even more magical.

“Would you like to try one? This one helps you focus… But, yeah, I guess you already can do that perfectly,” you pick up the next vial. “Oh, after drinking the yellow one, you should be able to sing more professionally! And the green one is for rhythm… I would need that one. Yet, the most interesting one here is-”

- a love potion.

Even the vial is heart-shaped. The mixture inside is either pink or purple, you can’t really define it because of the amount of bubbles that constantly stir the mixture. You might not be the best alchemy student ever, but even you know that that potion has some enchanting aroma that might bind your senses.

Maybe that potion is your only chance ever to get with Rollo. Your heart is heavy at the thought of enchanting him to love you.

“I have no intention of buying anything,” Rollo’s curt voice slings you from your thoughts. He takes vials from your hands and puts them back, any moment ready to push them out of his mind. “Anything but croissants. I can treat you to one of those.”

…And that’s how you get free food, dear students.

“Will you? Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You would love to hug him, Rollo is… Rollo probably wouldn’t appreciate this kind of gratitude in the middle of the street. Or wherever. It’s hard to imagine Rollo being happy about a hug as he seems unused to physical contact, yet that might be a reason why you should try to open him up.

For a last moment you think about the enchanted concoctions, but Rollo turns around and you need to catch up to not get separated from him.

Way to his favourite bakery Rollo knows by heart. He guides you through the crowd and it’s easy to follow him as he stands taller than most people, the distance being even larger when you count his hat. He glanced over his shoulder to check if you were still beside him after you get out of the most crowded area.

“We’re here,” Rollo announces as if you hadn’t been accompanying him to the bakery whenever you had a chance. He strides to the counter, where several types of croissants under a glass cover are creating a delicious exhibition. “Choose whatever you like.”

It's a very tempting offer, and you decide to take it once you glue yourself to the glass of a counter.

“I…” You start, pointing at two specific desserts. Two croissants with your favourite fillings are too delicious to pick between them. “Can I get two? I will treat you something in return, once I'll have money on me.”

“You’ll get a stomachache,” he says curtly but slides his card to a lady behind a counter that picks up another baking for himself, halfway dipped in chocolate and topped with cut-dried strawberries. “Be careful. They’ve been just taken out of the oven, so you’d better don’t burn yourself.

“Thanks.”

You let yourself bite into the device, as you take another turn, this time the way leading into the main square. There is a grand scene that is always used for music performances.

There is one being held, a solo.

You glance at the dancer, and they look around the crowd. You think there are your two missing clubmates, and beckon Rollo over.

“Hey, there are—”

…

Your surprise silences you.

Rollo stays planted on the ground, eyes on the dancing girl with something like awe. You know that look. You caught a glimpse of it many times on the surface of the glass in student consul’s showcases; your face, so desperately stretching in a soft smile, not to look suspicious.

For the first time, you didn't like the idea of love at first sight.

…

You know where it’s time to step out. Many negotiations you held with people on behalf of students of NBC sensitised you to their expectations and what you should do.

You smile weakly, before gently tapping Rollo on his arm. “I… will get going.”

But Rollo, amazingly, has already shaken off from mysterious enchantment. If you could only do so as easily, permanently. “Are you sick?” He asks, and when you avoid his eyes, his tone voice drops half a tone. “What happened?”

“Nothing, it’s… Can… I… just go?”

“What happened?” Rollo repeats. His eyes scan you, the first time quickly, and when he doesn’t find anything visible, he gets more alarmed, actually looking stiff. “Did you actually burn yourself? I told you to be careful.”

You don’t know what to tell him but start with a measurement that doesn’t bring him any relief.

“It’s not that, Rollo. I…”

“Do tell.” He insists, although if you said a word, you know he wouldn’t question you any more about this. But he would find out in some other way, and he might think you don’t trust him enough - and this implication you really want to avoid - and… “Tell me.”

…And you want to believe that he’s worried for you.

You stare at the ground, and clasp your hands behind your back once you notice their subtle shaking. Why are you reacting this way? Ahh… “I just don’t enjoy dancing. I think I will just return to school and finish organizing the documents…”

“You’ve always liked to see people dance though.”

So he has noticed.

“I don’t have a talent to dance myself.”

“You just need to learn,” he says, his tone softer than you’ve ever heard him. And as you’ve been listening to his voice o lot, you think you might’ve imagined it. Rollo glances at his watch and urges you to come with him. “It’s almost time to ring the bell. Let’s go. I will help you.”

…

You don’t like climbing the bell tower, and going up hundreds of steps isn’t something easy even with Rollo as your motivation. It’s the anxiety that keeps you going.

“I didn't buy the enchantment, though,” you break the silence, and Rollo looks over his shoulder. He is one step in front of you, and he probably slowed his pace to let you catch up to him easily. He’s a master of climbing stairs and ladders after all. “To dance. The bell won’t do anything if… I don’t have any magic on me, no?”

“Don't depend on these kinds of things,” he grumbles. “If you do, you will never achieve anything. For example, if you drank the potion, of course, you'd know how to dance. But just for tonight.”

You question his motivational quote. “But isn't the magic helpful sometimes?”

“It makes one fully depend on it.”

And the conversation ends here because you’ve reached the top platform. Rollo opens the trapdoor and holds it for you. As you step out, you’re immediately hit with a breeze of cold air, but it’s more kind of refreshing than freezing.

Once the trapdoor is closed, Rollo awaits, frozen for a clock-measured minute and three seconds.

And then he rings the bell. It takes much force to move it, and you are almost sure Rollo doesn’t even boost his strength with magic. But, what’s unexpected, this one time he uses magic to repeat the movements of the bell and have it ring on its own.

DING- DONG.

He leaves it to ring at the same tempo and turns to you. The magical earplugs in your ears only moderately muffle the sound of the bell. No music from the Topsy-Turvy Event Hall reaches you anymore. You can only hear the rings clearly, and wouldn't hear Rollo if he said anything.

He doesn't even try to, and without even a shred of a smile, he takes your hand in his.

DING- DONG.

His right hand wraps around your waist, and the fingers of the left one intertwine with yours. He stands taller than you, mighty, righteous. His gaze lingers on you as if he judges you.

It’s never a fair judgement, because the slightly offbeat of his heart drives his reason senseless.

He takes the first step to the back, and you follow along.

DING- DONG.

Rollo's movements are fluid and graceful, yet precise and purposeful. He leads you with ease, his body guiding yours. Waltz is a dance that emphasises the partnership, but with you not knowing the steps, it feels to you like some sort of majestic tango.

You’re overpowered within the first seconds of dance.

DING- DONG.

Step, step, DING, turn, step, turn, DONG.

You know your cheeks are flushed, and you blame the height and cold wind for it. Maybe it is a tiring dance, and you believe it’s acceptable to be this tired yet happy if you are dancing for all of eternity. It feels like the bell started to strike the omnipresent tempo a lifetime ago.

Rollo knows when your waltz-tango should end. He stops the chime with a fluid movement of his hand, magic stopping the well-kept rhythm from a bell.

BA-DUM, BA-DUM.

Your heart maintains the tempo. Even if each beat is strong and loud, you worry about how it will come to a halt at any second.

“I’m surprised,” he starts, sounding unsurprised but kind…-ish, “that you aren’t in a dance-related club yet.”

You cock your head to the side. “Is this a… sarcasm?”

“No. I think that musical-related things would suit you better. You could dance on that grand stage we approached earlier.”

“Like that girl?”

Rollo frowns. “What girl?”

…He doesn’t remember? How could anyone forget for a second about a person one has fallen for? You couldn’t. You can’t. You’re dumbfounded.

“A dancer. On a stage. Today.” Rollo looks more confused with each suggestion. “She was dancing to a… fast music in a flowy dress?”

“Ah,” finally, recognition sparkles in his eyes. A wave of relief is followed by anxiety, but Rollo shrugs your both overwhelms off, with a flick of his hand. “Yes, like her or… even better. The piece she danced to would fit you if you only embrace your passion. I think your performance would be more dreamy.”

You chuckle.

“If I would do that, what would you do without me in the student council club?” By this slight teasing, Rollo stiffens a little. You place your hand on your chest. “But as your right hand, you can’t get rid of me so easily.”

You swear you see him smiling subtly, and it’s no trick of light.

“As my right hand, you have the power to do whatever you want.”

“Then I want to stay.”

“Hm,” Rollo ponders. As you notice his gaze, you feel as if he’s contemplating which future holds the best fate for you. He lowers his eyelids, sighing slightly. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” you smile. “But if I hold any power like you say, I would like to use it to have you dance with me again.”

“Strange request,” he says curtly but doesn’t deny your request. His follow-up question makes your chest fill with warmth. “Do you know any dances? Except for waltz,” he says as if you could call your ‘waltz’ anything other than pretending to know how to dance.

“Macarena?” You suggest and he looks at you sceptically. In response, you flash him a bashful smile. “No?”

He sighs but takes your hands in his.

“Let me teach you, then,” he says, slowly. “Let’s start with a proper greeting,” but his greeting isn’t proper, because he doesn’t look at you. Because he avoids your gaze, you can have a shameless view on his red face, that must match the temperature with his quickly warming up hands. You always thought Rollo’s hands were cold, until this moment. “An elegant bow…”

He bows and you lift the brim of your skirt in response, trying to copy the fluidity of the curtsy.

He brings your hand up so carefully as if it is made from the thinnest glass, and presses his lips to your knuckles. So cliche, so old-fashioned, but chivalry isn’t dead as it fills you with energy, surprise and some embarrassment that makes you want to live this moment forever. “And a kiss.”

“Now I’m charmed,” You laugh softly, a smile on your face, yet you were mentally prepared to faint. You wonder if doctors would detect you lovesick if your heart actually stopped. “What’s after that?”

Rollo glances up at you, his eyes brighter than ever. He brings you closer to him.

“Let’s talk about rhythm.”

#I finished my last exam today!! They didn't go as well as I expected #but hey! now I will finally have time to write!! I've been dreaming about this for a long long time haha #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #rollo flamm #twst rollo #twst rollo x reader #rollo x reader #rollo flamm x reader #rollo flamme x reader #rollo flamme

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animeyanderelover · 4 months

Text

@lucyrose9820 asked: Tsugikuni Yoriichi Hc's?

Tags: @leveyani @kanaosprotector

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, overprotective behavior, stalking, controlling behavior, threats, intimidation, death, abduction

Yandere Tsugikuni Yoriichi Hc's

☀️Yoriichi is a man who has already lost his first wife and their unborn child yet none of his sorrow is expressed from the outside. His nonchalant and solemn exterior rarely gives anything away from his current emotions so you never seem to notice how he is truly feeling for you. Nor does Yoriichi want you to notice as he is lucid of the extent of his feelings for you. He hides them and locks them away as he considers how you might get scared of him if you would know about it. And as much as he doesn't want to admit it, his own selfishness doesn't want you to stray away from his side because of his feelings. Silent and serene, maroon eyes are almost constantly following you as soon as you are in his field of vision as they observe your every movement closely. The death of Uta and his unborn child have left a scar after all so now that he has fallen in love with someone else again, Yoriichi can't help himself but grow more protective.

☀️You don't notice when he is trailing behind you when you go anywhere when the sky is already dark as he is worried that a demon might try to take you away the same away they took Uta and his child away from him. He remains pretty distant and as a silent protector for some time where you often see him but know little besides his name about him. You can't help but wonder if he doesn't like you but it is the complete opposite. In fact Yoriichi is actually a bit scared that his feelings for you would spiral out of his control if he would get any closer to you. Eventually the inevitable happens though as the two of you slowly get closer to each other and his worries partially become true. His overprotective antics sometimes result in him growing more monitoring and controlling as he asks you with a serious expression on his face to do something for him.

☀️I would say that he is less prone to being jealous and just more prone to reacting more protectively. Even in a scenario where he has hardly anything to worry about his eyes are still glued to you just in case anything happens or in case he realises that you look uncomfortable. Yoriichi makes a good effort to try and not let his own feelings interfere with your social life as he tries not to be too selfish with you. Honestly, he is quite good in not letting his own obsession interfere but you should still be aware that he is watching you most of the time. Even when he stands a few feet away from you to not potentially intimidate people around you, his eyes never leave you nor the people you interact with. He's usually quick to step in though when he notices that someone tries to flirt with you or shows signs of attraction for you. He can be rather intimidating when he wants to be as he calmly stares down at them.

☀️As always there is a clear line when it comes to slaughtering demons or actually taking a human life. He has always shown a calm disposition when he killed demons and he continues with it even as his darling appears in his life. I would say that his trauma with allowing a demon to kill his pregnant wife has made him generally more warily when it comes to any demons around your village so as soon as he notices the tiniest sign that there might be one, he is quickly alarmed and instantly seeks them out to dispose of them as quickly as possible. As a man who slays demons and is normally very kind, he is more considerate and gentle when it comes to treating humans. Which doesn't mean that anyone can just take him as easy for it as his aura can change into one of silent and cold rage if someone really pushes his buttons by harming you and triggering his protective instincts. Perhaps it is this overwhelming calmness he showcases even in moments of rage that is so frightening as he whispers a low warning, a threat to stay away from his beloved.

☀️When it comes to an abduction Yoriichi is not as bad as some others would be. Considering that he is still very overprotective though, you should expect that he has some rules and wishes he would like you to fulfill just so that his mind can rest a bit easier. He dedicates his time to just accompanying you, whether you know about it or not, during the time where both of you shouldn't live together yet and he establishes his rules as soon as both of you live under the same roof together. Otherwise Yoriichi lets you have your freedom as much as he can because he sees no need to restrict you. That changes when something does happen that triggers his feelings and that can quickly escalate into him turning much more controlling as he suddenly doesn't want you to leave his side for an extended period of time and keeps you within the four walls of your home.

☀️Yoriichi is besides those moments where he reacts quickly more protective less obvious with his overall unhealthy behavior. It is easy to brush his protective tendencies off as lingering paranoia from his last wife's death and nothing more. He's gentle and calm around you and whilst he isn't one who talks much, he loves listening to you talking about anything. Especially when he realises that you are really passionate about it as he just sits next to you and enjoys your presence. His love is warm and bright for you as it gives you a feeling of safety and protection but underneath the surface one spark might be enough to erupt and escalate this warmth into an all-consuming blaze that calmly burns down everything that threatens you. If it wouldn't be for Yoriichi's vast self-control, things wouldn't be as nice most of the time...

#yandere demon slayer #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere kny #yandere yoriichi #yandere tsugikuni yoriichi

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samstree · 2 years

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Jaskier is easy to please.

It’s a surprise finding, Geralt thinks to himself. At least, it goes against everything he knows about Jaskier.

He’s born noble, spoiled and doted on by a loving family for eighteen years. He has the best education, one that gives him endless titles as a master of the arts and a position at the best university. He wears fine silk, dines with lords and ladies, and sings for kings and queens.

And yet, Jaskier’s eyes always light up when Geralt prepares a simple meal at the side of the road as if a chunk of rye bread is anything finer than what Lettenhove can provide for him. He always leaves the lecture halls of Oxenfurt at the first thaw of spring to catch Geralt’s early contract of the year. He delights in the most mundane days on the path and colors them bright with his songs.

“I wonder how many are as lucky as me. How many souls under the sky,” Jaskier says one night, lying on top of a thin bedroll, under a sky full of stars. “To have found what pleases them, and get to keep it.”

“The stars?” Geralt mumbles sleepily. The day has been long and he’s too tired for Jaskier’s bouts of musing. “You don’t get to keep them, Jask.”

“No, you oaf. It’s…” Jaskier trails off, huffing a smile against Geralt’s shoulder. “Never mind. Sleep for now. You won’t understand today.”

“Yes, sleep.”

“Sleep, and you just might tomorrow.”

Jaskier snores through the night on the ground. He wakes up at the first light of dawn, eyes bleary and hair mussed. He wakes up to Geralt, lying next to him and calling his name gently. A soft smile overtakes his face, their limbs still tangling.

☆

Geralt just might understand.

Or he starts to, when he pays attention to those things that please Jaskier.

He makes a pair of gloves over the winter with leather and fur in his stash. The plain materials are nothing to be boasted, and his sewing is far from the best. Compared to Jaskier’s doublets and coats, lined with jewels and silver thread, these may as well be two lumps of rags, but somehow, Geralt knows deep in his heart that Jaskier will squeal with joy when he sees them on his birthday.

The sureness settles over his chest, spreading until it unfurls his toes like warm mead on a rainy day. He wonders how long this unnamed confidence has been with him but finds no answer. It seems his life is so full of Jaskier, that there are no traces of what came before his bright-colored existence.

On Jaskier’s birthday, the squeal ends up hurting Geralt’s sensitive ears, but the tight hug that lifts him off the ground makes it all worth it. The gloves never leave the bard’s person even in the worst of the summer days and are proudly shown off to every friend they meet on the road.

And then, Geralt learns ballroom dancing from Essi so he may invite Jaskier to a first dance after the bardic competition. Geralt practices and practices, but when the day comes and Jaskier is all close and eager, all the complicated sequences are forgotten like foams on the sea. The world narrows down to the way Jaskier leans into his embrace and those surprised laughs when Geralt steps on his toes. The first dance turns into a second, a third, and then a fourth. Before Geralt knows it, the music has ended. Jaskier keeps holding on in the silence, his chin resting on Geralt’s shoulder, his scent sweet and happy.

☆

“So, you are Julian’s witcher.”

An unfamiliar figure appears next to Geralt as the night comes to an end. Jaskier has gone to collect the award from his placement, but there’s no need for an introduction. Golden hair, fancy jewels, sharp eyes—it must be Valdo Marx.

“If I am?”

“Ha!” The other bard nurses his drink. “You’d need my warning, witcher. That one, Julian, is hard to please.”

Geralt could laugh if he didn’t hold too much disdain for the man.

“Don’t believe me? You’ll see. I once filled his room with roses and lilies, composed him full cycles of fine music, but all I got was rejection after rejection. I’d give him all the flowers in the world, all the songs and poetry. But no, none of it was ever good enough for Julian. Our dear Julian, who needs the world and more.”

“Hmm.”

Strange. Jaskier has never needed a world of flowers and poetry.

A bluebell is enough to make Jaskier blush when Geralt picks it from a wild field and puts it in his hand. A simple letter is enough to lift his spirit when solitude weighs down his shoulders while Geralt is away.

The flower will be pinned behind Jaskier’s ear for the rest of the day, and the letter will be read so many times the edges are worn out by the time they finally reunite. One particular songbook in the Jaskier’s pack holds tiny wildflowers and old letters on every other page. That book is growing thick over the years, bursting with little souvenirs of their time together and apart.

Valdo Marx is long gone when Geralt realizes how far his thoughts have wandered. The dance floor is empty. All the bards have left. All except for one.

“Geralt?” Jaskier appears before him, searching, curious. “Goodness, I called your name four times. What’s got you thinking so hard?”

Geralt blinks.

“You.”

“Me? What about—oh!”

Geralt takes Jaskier’s hand and pulls him into a kiss.

It’s desperate and messy, done without so much as a thought. All Geralt knows is that he should kiss Jaskier. All the world could end right now and he should be kissing Jaskier. Their breaths quicken as their bodies press closer. Jaskier lets out a surprised gasp as Geralt opens him up eagerly, teasing him with every swipe of tongue, every quiet moan. He kisses the corner of Jaskier’s mouth at the end before meeting his gaze.

“Wow,” Jaskier breathes, voice hoarse and eyes hazy. He clears his throat. “Wow, Geralt, that was…”

Geralt holds onto the small of Jaskier’s back, practically keeping him upright with how unsteady his legs have become. He can’t help but preen, letting a grin tug at his lips. “That was…?”

“Oh, just…” Jaskier’s cheeks have gone pink. It’s adorable in the candlelight. He lets out a string of giggles, hiding his face in his hands and pressing his forehead to Geralt’s shoulder. “You’ve kissed me, and now I feel like the happiest man on earth,” he mumbles into Geralt’s shirt. “So forgive me if I need a moment. Just a moment to let it all sink in, is all.”

Geralt kisses Jaskier’s hair and feels him suck in another shaky breath. “You are too easy to please,” he chuckles.

When Jaskier finds enough strength to stand on his own and pulls away, his eyes are full of wonder. They are full of Geralt. “Well, of course. It’s you.”

With Jaskier here in his arms, Geralt understands now. He is what pleases Jaskier, and he is lucky. Too lucky, perhaps. To be dear to this loud bard who smiles like a fool at the sight of him is a privilege Geralt would not deserve even if he lived ten lives over. He isn’t sure what to do with this fact yet.

So he answers. “Yes, it’s me.” He makes a promise. “I’m right here.”

Geralt leans in for another kiss, nuzzling Jaskier’s nose, but a finger halts him by the lips.

“You see, if you kissed me in such quick succession,” Jaskier says, swallowing, his eyelashes casting long shadows, “I may burst with joy right this moment. So have mercy on me, will you? Let’s just stay here. Just stay, and remember.”

Under Jaskier’s palm, a witcher’s slow heart flutters at the next beat.

Geralt takes Jaskier’s hand and remembers the moment. He remembers the moment when all the world’s luck is held within their palms, intertwining between their linked fingers.

☆

It turns out, Geralt is easy to please too.

All it takes is a simple tune under Jaskier’s breath, a slow ballad, full of love and contentment, a private performance for one. It’s such a small thing, such a small joy when they are in the snowy mountains at the top of the world.

Geralt sinks into the big armchair in Kaer Morhen’s library, listening as the last note fades. His eyes flutter shut, tugged heavy by sleep and the burning fireplace. Jaskier put his lute down by the wall and settles on Geralt’s lap, tucking Geralt’s head into the crook of his neck.

“Is my new song putting you to sleep?” Jaskier asks. “Do you not like it?”

Geralt shakes his head, melting under Jaskier’s weight and attention. “Like the song fine. It’s just you.” He lets out a long exhale, his heart slowing. “Want to sleep when I’m safe.”

“Oh.”

Gentle fingers run across Geralt’s eyebrows, and he almost drifts off right there. “We should go to bed,” so he says.

“I’ll join you in a bit.”

Jaskier scrambles away, and the lack of his warmth makes Geralt grumble.

Jaskier huffs, taking Geralt’s hands to pull him up. “Just a few minutes. I have some tidying up to do.”

The world is blurry around the edges and the last line of Jaskier’s song keeps playing in Geralt’s mind. He mumbles an answer, his legs heavy. The bed that belongs to the two of them calls for Geralt with the promise of a mountain of blankets and furs to burrow under.

“Hold on.” Jaskier’s hand is on Geralt’s elbow. “The night is dangerous. Take this with you.”

He turns Geralt around to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

With his eyes barely open, Geralt winds Kaer Morhen’s halls until the darkness gives way to the warm glow of their bedroom, where the fireplace is lit and his lungs are filled with the clean soap on Jaskier’s clothes.

Geralt returns to bed safely, with a small kiss to guard him.

It turns out, he is easy to please when it’s Jaskier.

It’s as natural as breathing, like these small things, small joys, small kisses. And they are all it takes.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #fluff #soft boys being soft #first thing i've written in a month and i'm very pleased too 😌

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ofallthingsnasty · 1 year

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Thinking about... Kaiser and Oliver manipulating you

Tags: both are 20+, gn reader, foreigner!reader for kaiser, toxic relationships, yandere themes but not quite the classic tropes, this is ugly but sfw, emotional manipulation, minors please dni Word count: 1.4k

Note: Requests are open ah- I am dying to talk nasty bllk with people haha.

I feel like both Oliver and Kaiser are highly emotionally manipulative, each in their own way.

We know that Oliver is good at putting on a calm and collected face to get what he wants - yet his true intentions always bleed through, bit by bit. Just like he got Sae to shelve Shidou, his true intentions may not be lost on you, but he still manages to get under your skin with dangerous precision.

He knows just how insecure you are about his dating history; he can tell by the way you pull a face when he's going to fancy parties on his own, how you always preen at his compliments, how you ask him in that little voice of yours “Does this look okay?” at every outfit you wear, how you're constantly looking for validation, for love. You can be so weak, so needy and he’s aware that it's because of how he used to be. It makes you malleable, keeps you with him - playing into that little insecurity of yours is so easy he could do it in his sleep. You want to prove yourself to him and play right into his little games, unknowingly.

He’ll sit you on his lap during parties and chat about his past flames and how he played them, fully aware that you are all ears. You might act like you’re trying to stab the lemon slice in your long drink, seemingly lost in your own thoughts - but you are listening intently. His teammates will try to involve you in the conversation, too, laughing along, asking how you tamed him after his wild youth, how you got him to settle down. And you’ll have to actually pay attention to them or you’ll be branded as the rude one, the no-fun one, the nag. Remember that fling or this one? Remember how it all went down, how you got busted dating those two models at once? You always sit there, laughing nervously while trying not to count the mounting notches on his belt. His friends keep fanning the flames, so oblivious to your discomfort. You’ll inch closer to his chest, grip your glass so hard it might just burst any time, take constant peeks at your phone - anything to distract yourself a little while their excited chatter washes over you.

Hell, even the media will never let you forget just how much of a playboy he used to be; every time you open your social media accounts, every time you see some tabloids at the grocery store, it’s right in front of you, an ex here, a nasty comment there - you try to ignore those headlines, the hate- but still, it sticks. And how suspicious it is, then, that you always see him with his phone tilted away from you either after a fight or when you don't quite act the way he wants you to, that he seems strangely distant after you tell him you're not in the mood for sex, how he’s out without you so often. Soon enough, everything turns into pleasing him, like some sort of competition between you and an imaginary other. You almost become paranoid, constantly eyeing him, always wondering if he's truly just laughing at something silly on his phone or at some flirty text someone sent him, if he’s hiding something from you. With time, your jealousy turns ugly - but also makes you easy to manipulate, even if you get snippy. Just one look, one smile is all he needs to keep you in line, one squeeze of your shoulder is enough to make you shut up, too occupied with the thought of him leaving you for someone else.

I can see him actively going for a darling who is insecure, who is not confident in themselves from the start. Someone who isn’t necessarily conventionally attractive or someone who has made their fair share of bad experiences in the past. Someone who easily falls into those old traps again, unknowingly, and lets him take the reins.

Kaiser takes it a little further. It's only natural that you move in with him quite early in your relationship, relocate to Germany, because that's where he works, no? He wants you close and you don’t object. Maybe you're blinded by your whirlwind romance with the handsome pro or maybe you're just easy to impress - but you willingly leave behind friends and family to be with him. Of course, he has expectations- high ones, at that. You have to be perfect for him, the ideal partner- and a big part of that is getting rid of the language barrier. He needs you to sit pretty during talk shows and interviews, to answer questions with your chic little accent and a sweet smile, he wants to truly parade you around. But no matter how much you pour yourself into your studies, it’s never quite enough.You’re taking a class? You’re trying your hardest with immersion, taking every opportunity to use your skills and hone them? Dedicating so much of your free time to learning the language that you feel like you have a second shift ahead of you when you come home? It’s all not enough.

A language isn't learned overnight, he knows as much, but his incessant badgering is something to keep you busy with, something to distract you from the way your old friends call less and less. He never stops with his needling, uses every chance he gets to put you down, to make you insecure: of your grammar, your accent, the way it still takes you a couple seconds to process someone talking to you. You’ll never be as skilled as him, a native speaker, and he lets you know as much. And his own lessons! He acts like it's some grand thing you should be grateful for when he sits you down at night to grill you on your progress, never once uttering a single word in English. Makes you repeat phrases until you get the pronunciation right, mocks you when you get the case wrong or use formal instead of informal for him. He'll flick your cheek lightly and with a strained smile on his face once you drift off, tired and no longer receptive after the long day you’ve had. “Zuhören. Du sollst mir zuhören.”, “Du hörst mir nicht zu. Nochmal.”, any iteration of those dreaded sentences is enough to trigger a queasy feeling in your stomach once you hear them. It’ll get to the point where he demands you only speak in German when you’re with him - and the little laughs at your mistakes, the corrections full of condescension will increase tenfold, as will that infuriating feeling of being disrespected, of being seen as lesser. You feel like a child, almost.

Taking you out of your familiar environment, throwing you into a foreign country with no one else but him to rely on - and him being a national superstar, known by everyone, appearing in the news daily - is a dangerous cocktail of dependence and power. Who can you really talk to except for a few sparse texts here and there to your friends when he’s being so overbearing again, constantly criticizing you and reminding you of his status, when he nags and nags and nags you for the most minuscule things. You could go back home, sure. But it’s not like you don’t love him, like there is nothing of worth in this relationship. The warm, fuzzy feeling you get from knowing you are the partner of Michael Kaiser, a breakout soccer star, that he has chosen you and no one else, the comfortable life that comes with this relationship - it’s easy to forgive him for his harshness, for his cold behavior. After all, he has a public image to uphold - that has to be immensely stressful for him, next to his work. No wonder he gets a little short with you sometimes. And with all the luxury that comes with being with him, what is a little bitterness here and there? It’s absolutely nothing, right? Even with his emphasis on the language - he’s just trying to make sure you learn it right, that you progress quickly. So you let yourself be pushed around by him, start to doubt your own feelings and try to appeal to him more and more, try to prove to him that you are capable and not stupid. He might not go for an insecure darling from the very start - but you can be sure that your self-esteem will take a huge hit once he has you in his palm.

#blue lock x reader #yandere blue lock #michael kaiser x reader #oliver aiku x reader #yandere oliver aiku #yandere michael kaiser

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thechibifoxcub · 7 months

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Sweet Autumn Eclipse 🍁

The breeze felt cool against his skin. A stark contrast to the warmth that radiates beneath his skin as he tries to avert his wondering gaze from the person walking beside him.

Clouds dotted the vibrant canvas of purples, pinks, an yellows as the evening sky slowly enveloped the vast horizon. Tranquility synonymous with peace blankets the duo as they make their way past tall maple trees. The leaves once a striking shade of green now drift to the earth bellow as lovely reds, yellows, and browns. Nothing felt more invigorating yet resolute than moments like this.

It must be the company that walks beside him. Your prescience was always a comfort that he would gladly indulge. Your personality might clash with his, but for some reason he never seemed to care.

Or, at least, that’s what he’s been telling himself lately. If he was someone younger- a former glimpse of his once conceited past, then maybe he wouldn’t have put much thought into this. Into you….

But he wasn’t young (at least in his mind) and he wasn’t as naïve as he once was either. He changed in recent years. He was more patient. More understanding. Reasonable in moments when all rationality once eluded him. The change wasn’t something that happened over night. No, no that would have been too easy. Simplicity wasn’t part of his vocabulary. Then again, ever since you came into the picture he realized that his train of thoughts became clearer to him. Easy and frequent as of late.

He wasn’t mad of course. In fact he embraced this new side of him. A new chapter in his once dreary, monotonous novel of self-destruction filled with smiles and lingering touches.

As the Autumn breeze cools his flushed cheeks as you smiled once more at him, he couldn’t help but think that your smile could eclipse even the brightest of stars. Your radiance unrivaled as you intertwined your fingers with his. His eyes locked onto yours as his heart thundered like a tsunami between his ribs. Your eyes shined with love and mischief as you pulled him closer.

Your warmth soothed his fears and chased away his demons and he would forever be grateful. You, who has become his personal eclipse.

[Another short one-shot but this time something a little sweeter(?). I’m no professional so please forgive me for any errors and mistakes 😅. Can be seen as an x Reader for any character you fancy, but thought of Genshin/ Honkai Star Rail characters in mind.]

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hollyhomburg · 7 months

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Before I Leave You (Pt. 60)

(sneek peak)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Life changes come in many many forms; courting gifts, leaving jobs, and...Murder

Tags: Slow burn getting warmer, Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, Trans! Tae, Transphobia, gender thoughts, workplace discrimination, flashbacks, murder, graphic violence blood, suicidal actions

W/c: 11.5k

A/n: ah i'm hoping i'll finish this in time! if not T-T i'll be attending my cousins wedding at the time this is posted so! give me lots of love when you read it cuz i'm so nervous~ i've never been around so many fancy people before. also that photo of hobi? in the moodboard? tell me why it makes my heart FLUTTER!!!

Previous part ~ Masterlist

~-~

Chapter 60: Glass Slippers

Your breath goes just a little bit rapid, just a little, hitching when you think of it.

“Did Jin tell you anything?”

“He didn’t. Although my secretary did inform me that he filled out the paperwork for you.” The air in the therapist’s office is cold. Cold enough that it has you wrapping your sweater sleeves over your knuckles.

Your cheeks heat “My pack they- get a bit- protective.” Your fingers circle your wrist. You’re glad that Hobi convinced you to take one of his sweatshirts. He'd had a strange look on his face while he zipped it up, and you'd had to worry and wonder about it the whole morning. You'd worried more once he texted, just after he must have gotten to work.

“I have kind of a history of self-destructive behavior and I- I kind fell into bad habits a few days ago and blew up. It was all kind of triggered by this like- thing that happened with me and my other packmate.” It’s surprisingly easy to tell the truth.

You’re a right side better than you have been the last few weeks, now. A little bit more present, less foggy. The doctor just looks at her screen and not at you. What is it with her asking questions that make you not want to lie? Why does it feel like you should anyway?

Dr. Rima reads between the lines, what you're trying to say without saying it. “Is there a possibility of you hurting yourself again?” She clicks at the screen a little rapidly.

“No.”

The truth is you have no idea. It seems best to lie in this situation. But you consider it; one of your packmates making the call that you are too much to handle, that you need more help than they can offer. You imagine what it would be like to be in inpatient care. Grippy socks and group therapy and probably observed mealtimes. Maybe Iv's and feeding tubes if it came to that. Away from the pack and away from Yoongi.

He’s just downstairs, but that feels too far. There was no way that he was going to let you do this alone, you wouldn't be surprised if he never left the waiting room.

It’s just a therapy session. The very thing that you once refused. But now that you're here you might as well heal, you might as well work to stop this endless train of brief highs and endless lows. you'll give it a go, why not? What do you have to lose?

And yet, the texts from Hobi remain unanswered:

Ho-🐝 (9:48): Hey, I’m really proud of you.

Ho-🐝 (9:48): I’m really happy I get to be your packmate. In case you ever worry.

Ho-🐝 (9:49): And your best friend too <3

Ho-🐝 (9:51): Just so you knowwww

Coming Saturday September 23rd at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustment Below)

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the-guilty-writer · 1 year

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Lazy Genius

Request from Anon: Spencer reid x daughter reader who hates school not because anyone bullies her but because she hates doing the work

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: You decide to skip out on a school assignment and your dad, Spencer, isn't happy about it.

A/N: Thank you for the request! Reid x daughter!reader isn't on my official list, but it's something I'm willing to write for 99% of the time. This was a challenge for me to write, as I'm a total school work loving nerd. I could not think of a happy ending for this situation so I left it open for interpretation. All requests and feedback are appreciated.

Test weeks sucked, but not because of the tests. You had no problems with tests. Test weeks sucked because for five days straight all your friends were consumed by school and you weren’t. Sure, you were in AP classes for every subject, but having inherited your father’s genius brain meant that as long as you payed attention in class there was never a need to study. So while everyone else was preparing for the academic apocalypse and your dad was out of town on a case, you were left to binge watch Doctor Who alone and wonder if someone could die of social starvation.

Ding!

Your heart leapt as your phone notified you to a message. Leaning over the table to grab your phone, you prayed it was a message from someone wanting to hang out. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

Message from Dad:

Hey, Princess. We just got a break in the case so I should be home by tomorrow night. Your Aunt Penelope will be over to check on you later. I love you.

You let out a sigh. Only your father, Spencer Reid, would use proper grammar in a text message. You typed up a quick response and were about to put your phone down when it buzzed again. This time it was an email from a teacher.

Students, if you have received this reminder you have not yet turned in your mid-term paper. Please email me your work by 3:00 PM tomorrow afternoon. Any student who has not turned in their paper by then will receive a zero for the assignment.

Ugh. Not a paper.

For someone whose grandmother was a professor of literature, there was nothing you despised more than English. With most classes you didn’t have to put in any effort- it was all memorization and testing. But English class was just busy work and paper writing. It was dumb and you didn’t want to do it.

You opened your laptop and looked at the grade book. Having a genius IQ made it easy for you to do the calculations in your head; if you got a zero on the paper it would only lower your grade to 84% and if you kept making perfect scores on your quizzes and tests you’d have 92% by the end of the semester.

You closed your laptop and turned the TV back on. It might have been the 17th time you had watched this episode, but anything was better than writing a paper that wouldn’t affect your GPA in the long run.

---

A week went by. Spencer had come home from the case and you knew it had been a hard one for him. As much as your dad tried to leave his work at the office, his job made it impossible for him to not have fears and worries. You knew that the case must have involved kids, because he was being more sentimental than usual- trying to get home before 6 o’clock, trying (and failing) to make recipes from Rossi, double checking that you were still safe in your bed in the mornings before he went to work.

That morning, he hadn’t double checked that you were still in your room, alive and well, which usually meant that the post-case “helicopter parent period” was over. It seemed odd when you got a text from Spencer as soon as class was dismissed for the day.

Message from Dad: Meet me at the BAU now.

You felt all the blood drain from your face.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Your friend asked.

“It’s my dad.” Your chest tightened with anxiety. The only time your dad had you come to Quantico is if he thought you might be in some sort of danger. But if you were in true danger he would have had your Uncle Derek come pick you up at school, right? You turned to your friends. “I- I’ll call you later. I have to go.” You sprinted towards the metro station, making it through the gates just in time to cram yourself onto the crowded car that would bring you to Quantico.

---

The elevator ride to the sixth floor took less than a minute, but it felt like it lasted an eternity. Your hands were shaking by your sides and you bounced on your toes, willing the metal box to lift faster. When the metal doors finally opened, Spencer was waiting for you.

“Dad, what’s going on?” You stepped out of the elevator and rushed towards him. It all happened so fast that you failed to notice that this time was different from the others.

Every other time you had come to the BAU headquarters because of danger the place was usually swarming with agents from different units, the phones ringing so wildly you were unsure how they kept up with all the calls, and the glass doors swinging open and closed at an alarming rate.

But the hall wasn’t busy, the phones weren’t ringing, and the glass doors stayed closed.

“That’s what I wanted to ask you,” Spencer said. His kind eyes were hard and his tone was stern. In his right hand he was holding a piece of paper. He handed it to you. “Would you like to explain this?”

You took the paper from him and looked down at it- it was your midterm report card. You had nearly 100% in every class except for AP English. Your calculations had been correct; you had an 84% in the class- a solid B.

“You’re mad that I got a B as my midterm grade?” you asked your dad.

“I’m not mad that you got a B as your midterm grade." Spencer remained calm, but you could see the silent anger boiling inside him. “Did you see what you got on your paper?”

You looked down at the grades again, this time, reading the fine print.

Midterm Paper: 0%, F. Assignment was not submitted.

“Oh.” Your voice was void of emotion.

“Why didn’t you turn in your paper?” Spencer asked.

You sighed. “If I keep getting hundreds on my tests and quizzes I’ll get a 92% in the class, which is an A so it doesn’t actually matter.”

“What actually matters is that you put in the effort, (Y/N).” Your father’s gaze grew harder, boring into you as if you were under interrogation. Spencer wasn’t like most parents who got loud when they were angry- Spencer got quiet. He got quick. He got intense. “This isn’t a result of a lack of understanding. You didn’t put in the effort. You had an assignment and you didn’t do it on purpose because you knew you could get around it.”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s called being smart.”

“No, it’s called being lazy.”

His words hit you like a bullet. His anger and disappointment you could handle, but never once had your dad made you feel insulted. You knew it came from a place of love and worry, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Your voice began to crack and tears stung your eyes as you spoke. “Dad, I-”

“I don’t want to hear it, (Y/N),” Spencer said. “Give me your phone. Garcia is blocking every number that isn’t an emergency contact until you get your act together.”

There was no point in arguing. You handed your dad your phone. He gave you a long, hard look before walking down the hall to Penelope’s office, not once turning back to look at you. When he came back, Garcia was following him. She gave you an apologetic look before she left through the glass doors, leaving you alone with your dad again.

Spencer threw his coat on and slung his satchel over his shoulder. You knew that was your cue to follow him to the elevator. The two of you stepped into the elevator together. The metal doors closed in front of you.

A beat of silence.

“I’m sorry, dad,” you said. “I’m not like you. I don’t like doing school work.”

Spencer sighed. “Sometimes we have to do things, even if we don’t like doing them.”

It was such a dad thing to say, but not a Spencer Reid dad thing to say. You tried to keep calm as you said quietly, “it’s still not going to affect my GPA.”

“It doesn’t matter, (Y/N)." Spencer blinked, long and slow. “Nobody likes a lazy genius.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x daughter reader #spencer reid daughter #criminal minds x daughter #criminal minds reid #criminal minds

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ashdreams2023 · 1 year

Note

Heyy! I'm back for asking something again (not my fault, i love sm your fanfics)

Can you write a fanfic where Severus is jealous because we are too close to Sirius or Remus (I leave the choice to you) and it ends in smut (if Sev could be submissive>>>) Thank you so much for writing your fics !

Again sorry for the wait but here you go!

Also, we love subby sev in this house

Warnings: NSFW

Yours

"You look clean today"

"Thank you, I had extra time on my hands this morning"

"Glad to hear"

Severus wanted to vomit at the sight, black has been getting on his nerves more than usual lately, and it didn’t make it any better that you’re being all lovey doves with the mutt.

"Careful or you might break your glass severus"

"Mind your business wolf" he hissed at Remus.

"Easy now" Remus lifted his hands in defense.

Severus looked you and almost threw his glass at Sirius when he saw him whispering something in your ear and you were chuckling at whatever nonsense he was saying.

He wanted to strangle him that very instant but years of playing an emotionless git paid off, he chugged what’s left of his cup then walked out the back door and stood near the chicken coot.

This was ridiculous but the way that idiot was so close to you made his blood boil.

But at the same time it made him remember how much Sirius was popular at school, how everyone drooled over him and you were just perfect, no wonder he would sweet talk you like that, severus hated how self conscious he could be but you looked so happy in there…so happy to not be around him.

He felt choked all of a sudden then decided that it would be better if he just left and you stayed, you looked fine without him anyways.

He got home and changed into his nightshirt, he didn’t eat or drink anything, just laid there in the dark alone.

He had hoped he would fall asleep before you came back home but his hope was cut short when after 30 minutes of just laying there he heard the front door open and a pair of feet coming upstairs.

The bedroom opened, he could make out your shadow looming in.

"Severus? I know you’re awake, why did you just up and leave?" Severus hated that you came following him, he wanted to be mad at you, to hate you.

You sat on the bed and tried to pull the covers off of him but he refused and turned over giving you his back, you stared is disbelief.

"Why are you so mad all of a sudden? Did I do something wrong?"

He huffed and closed his eyes. You sighed pull him by the shoulder and onto his back, he glared at you.

You climbed on top of him and sat on his chest, your eyes were hooded and you looked very appealing from his point of view, he clenched the sheets to not touch you.

"What could be so bothering that made you leave me there alone?"

"You had black to entertain you, he seemed to like the attention as well" he spat, with no real venom, none that would harm you at least.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his wrists then pinned them over his chest, his breath hitched yet he tried to still look angry.

"You’re actually jealous? And from Sirius of all people?! This must be a joke" you laughed then grind your hips over his crotch. He whimpered immediately, he was weak when it comes to you and both of you knew it.

"It’s not a joke…you we’re laughing with him" he groaned when you moved your hips again then closed his eyes when you let go of his wrists and started lifting up his nightshirt.

"You silly man…I’ll never look at anyone but you, Sirius is just…Sirius you know how he is" severus gasped lightly when you warped your fingers around his cock.

"Do you truly think I’ll leave you for somebody else" you pumped him half harden cock and smirked when he whimpered your name.

"He’s-"

"He’s nothing. You’re mine and I am yours, all yours. Do. You. Understand. Me?"

"Yes!" He ached his back now breathing heavily, his hands gripping onto the pillow behind his head.

"Good" you sighed, his tip dripped pre cum and you spread with your thumb, teasing him until you saw his eyes wide and watery, you could taunt him all night if you wanted too but you enjoyed seeing his face while he spills into your hand.

"Tell me, do you love me?"

"Yes, I love you, I love you!" He breathed out shaking.

"Who do you belong too?" You watch his body tense up for a second but then you stopped moving your hand and climbed on top of him lifting your dress higher up.

His lust filled eyes stared at you in awe, so beautiful and perfect for him, so divine and majestic.

Your body was a masterpiece.

"Answer me or I’ll leave you for the night" you gripped his chin and made him look you in the eye, a pretty blush was dusting his pale cheeks.

"You-rs…Yours, I’m yours, all yours" those dark eyes begged for you, craved you, desired your touch.

"Good boy" you grabbed his cock and slid it inside of you, you moaned mouth open wide while he hissed at the wonderful sensation. He stretched you just right.

You moved your hips slowly, moaning and savoring the of being full with him, his hands held your waist, digging into your flesh, making sure to leave pretty marks on your soft skin.

Her groaned thrusting her hips up, he whimpered and hid his face when you started to ride him faster, his breathing quickened, he was so close but you looked so beautiful he didn’t want to finish just yet.

Your body burned with desire, every muscle itching for release, he was addictive and you would gladly take as much of him as you could.

Severus couldn’t hold it anymore, his head felt clouded with you "I’m so…close" he moaned pushing his hands up and cupping your breasts in his large hands.

You moaned and let him squeeze them harder "it’s ok baby, cum for me, come on do it" you rode him until his entire body was shaking again and he spilled inside of you with a loud groan.

His arms dropped and he watched you reach your peak using him, he was still sensitive but you made him feel so good and when you came on it he felt full.

You stayed on top of him for a minute catching your breath then leaned down to kiss his face, both of you were sweaty.

You vanished what rest of clothing you had on and cuddled him close, his arms warped protectively around you.

"Mine.." he mumbled.

You chuckled "Yours."

#imagine #severus snape x y/n #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape #severussnape #severus snape x you #severus x reader #severus x y/n #severus snape headcanon #severus snape x reader #fanfic #snapedom #severus smut #snfw #harry potter requests

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theold-ultraviolence · 1 year

Note

HEYYY JUST HAD A THIUGHT IDK (for the eyepatch story btw)

what about when aemond gets betrothed and he always comes back to her like at night(when he first heard about the match) he comes to her shop and they sleep together (LIKE ACTUAL SLEEP) and he tells her about it and it’s just fluffy and he’s like you’ll always be the one i love’ and it’s kinda hurt/comfort idk

Interlude

Aemond Targaryen x seamstress!reader

Summary: A quiet moment between Aemond and his seamstress, before he breaks the news to her that he's been betrothed to one of Borros Baratheon's daughters. A/N: OMG OMG THANK YOU FOR DROPPING THIS! I was trying to figure out how to write the third part of this, and this served as the perfect interlude between the second part and the next!!!!! This was exactly what I needed to bridge the plot, so thank you my dear!! CW: Angst!! Hurt & comfort and a little surprise at the end...Words: 1k. // More of the seamstress!reader series here.

While orbiting around the sun of your imagination, you’ve often wondered if it was possible for time to freeze – if places existed, where the dimensions of space and time diverged to one’s convenience, or even safety, or indulgence.

Never did you imagine that you’d ever find your answer, in your very own bed, in the arms of your lover, Aemond.

These places were but a fantasy of yours, much like bedding the Targaryen Prince, yet here, in the back of your shop in the Street of Looms, time dissolves, like the last drops of liquor out of a fine bottle of wine, or like the cold chill of an afternoon in spring, when summer rolls through the season.

Tangled in sheets, Aemond spoons you from behind as he drifts in and out of sleep; strong arms and legs are wrapped around you as he nuzzles the side of your neck – his quiet snores and grunts keep you grounded, awake and making the most of every moment, lest this warm embrace sends you into a realm of sleep so deep it is dreamless.

This is the dream, right here, living and breathing – with soft, pillowy lips and a sharp nose that’s resting on your shoulder blade.

You let him sleep all he wants, as he often comes to you when he needs a peaceful rest away from the cacophony of the Red Keep, though you just can’t do the same.

Something within you calls for you to relish every second you have with him, for you never know when these moments might be yanked from you. There’s always a cloud of danger looming outside of your home when he comes to you – weariness in the pit of your stomach from the mere thought of this affair with the prince being found out.

This feeling of dread remains at the pit of your gut when Aemond groans and stirs from his sleep behind you, holding onto you even tighter – tighter still than how he hugs you every time he leaves your home.

“My love…” beneath the endearing layer of sleepy-gruff voice, there’s a note that makes you intertwine your hands with his in a fierce grip, and reply with tredipitation, not yet turning over to face him.

“Yes, what is it, dear love?”

His voice comes out muffled from his face being pressed against your naked back, and each vowel seems to be strung out from his throat by force.

“There is something I need to tell you, but it will not be easy.”

Your heart drops to your stomach, while you grit your teeth and take a deep breath, giving his hand a squeeze so he could continue.

“When the morrow comes, I will be off to Storm’s End. My house has turned upside down because of the succession as you know, and…”

You’re stiff, clinging onto every word for dear life, like a diver who’s lingering by the slippery edge of the cliff, for fear of hitting the rocks on the dive down to the ocean.

“The reason why I’m flying to Storm’s End is because I was betrothed to one of Borros Baratheon’s daughters.”

Aemond says this bit in one quick go, but it doesn’t take away from how deep it stings.

Your eyes burn akin to someone throwing acid on them as you try to refrain from crying – your chest feels like it’s being stuffed with grovel, and you grind your teeth so hard you're surprised you don't crack a molar.

“I don’t know which one yet, it has not been decided. I am to propose the arrangement to Lord Borros, in fact, in order to secure his alliance with us, and his support to my brother.”

“I...” you choke on your words, letting out a long sigh to calm yourself down, but you can only bury your head in your pillow and scrunch your eyes shut to block out your tears.

“I don’t know what to say,” you murmur wetly against your pillow. “‘Tis your duty, my prince. Let us be truthful, Aemond. We knew this day would come. We knew that what we have between us couldn’t have lasted long.”

Neither speak for what seems like an eternity, as your fate sinks in and suddenly the string of your time together seems to be cutting itself short.

“So be it, for the prosperity of the kingdom and your brother’s rule. I suppose congratulations are in order, my prince.” You mutter, with your back to him, still.

“Look at me,” he softly whispers, gently nudging you so you’d finally turn in his arms.

When you finally face him, hurt flashes on his lilac eye when he sees the tear stains on your cheeks. He frames your face in his palms while gazing at you longingly – already missing you, when he’s not even gone yet.

His voice is as soft as embroidery thread, but just as frail when he whispers against your lips. “You are my one true love. My best friend, the one I desire. Nothing and no one will ever change that.”

“Just you being married to someone else…” You laugh self-deprecatingly, but he fiercely shakes his head and stares at you with conviction.

“My dear love, I assure you that not even that could break the love that I hold for you in my heart.”

Tears now come flooding down your face. There’s nothing you can do to stop them, except for maybe hiding your face in the crook of Aemond’s neck and cling to him with all your limbs, hugging him with every inch of your body desperately.

“Promise me you won’t forget about me.” You bury your pleas right into his skin, selfishly hoping they’ll reach his heart and grow roots there.

“I could never, my lady, I could never. I hope you won’t forget about me either.” He chuckles miserably, deeply inhaling the scent that emanates from the crown of your head.

“That’s just impossible, my prince.”

Being all snug like you were in bed while breathing in sync, it was only a matter of time before your vision blurred and the waking world was no more.

You sleep deeply through the night, and when you wake up, your heart once more contracts when you extend your hand and notice Aemond’s not there.

His comforting presence is now gone, taking with him the magic that is making time stand still, for the universe to stop spinning.

You turn away from his empty spot on your bed, and notice that something glints in your nightstand, due to the sun rays filtering in through your curtain.

Rubbing your eyes, you sit on your bed and your jaw drops, when the object becomes clear – after you take it in your fingers and turn it over, appraising every minute detail with awe.

There in the palm of your hand, rests a ring, with a golden band and a sapphire encrusted within an intricate, circular frame…

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #seamstress!reader #female!Reader #reader insert fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #my writing

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lordeemailarchive · 7 months

Text

how I’ve been, revised

(20/09/2023) (Solar Institute Bulletin No. 22) (From London)

Aftershow quiet in Helsinki

Hey,

I just finished writing you a long letter, catching you up on how I’ve been. It ended neatly, tied with a little bow. I chose my words well, but I didn’t tell the truth. So I’m starting again, gonna type and not look back, and send what comes out.

I’m in London, have been since May. Things feel clear here. I haven’t seen many friends; mostly, I’m alone with my thoughts. I go swimming, I go to work, I walk home or take the train, I eat in my kitchen, I go to bed thinking about what I’m making. I’m starting to miss my friends and family, like a vitamin I’m deficient in. Soon I’ll be going back to New York, and then home.

I’m living with heartbreak again. It’s different but the same. I ache all the time, I forget why and then remember. I’m not trying to hide from the pain, I understand now that pain isn’t something to hide from, that there’s actually great beauty in moving with it. But sometimes I’m sick of being with myself. I eat chocolate to try and manipulate the endorphins, bring back the sweet happiness of Easter morning. I sit in the time machine and wait for it to move, but it hasn’t been invented yet.

My body is really inflamed, it’s trying to tell me something and I’m trying to support it but nothing seems to help and I get frustrated. My gut isn’t working properly, my skin is worse than ever, I’ve gotten sick half a dozen times. I realised earlier this year that listening to my body is hard for me, it’s something I never really learned how to do. I’ve been trying to teach myself that this year, but it’s been hard actually, pretty confronting, has made me fully aware of all the times I ignored it or didn’t give it what it needed, shamed it for a fight or flight response, took a handful of pills and pushed through. The little yellow pill I took every morning for thousands of mornings since I was 15, I stopped taking it 5 days ago. Gonna see how it goes.

I go online and look at everyone. Beautiful people sing to me. Everyone’s gotten really good at the same thing. I look at arched backs and wet flower mouths, the right bag, the right sunglasses. I wonder if it feels as good as it looks, it’s been so long since I chose the best picture from a hundred, lined it up like pulling an arrow taut in a bow, and let it go. Everyone looks very thin. Just thinking that makes me feel tired and far away. I’m not sure if it’s having an effect on anyone else. I keep spending money, wondering if what’s in the package will make me feel right, but I guess I buy the wrong things. I was gonna go to fashion week in Paris, had all these grand plans, but this week I txted my manager and pulled out. At the start of my career I promised myself I’d never be one of the people in the light smiling if it wasn’t real.

Earlier this year, I ate two handfuls of mushrooms, solid doses that tasted like green dirt. I got a lot of information about what my body had been through in our time so far, what it needed, where God was and where God wasn’t; I felt in my bones how destabilising it is to leave home and start a new life the way I did. I also saw that my body is completely magnificent, and that hating it is as futile as hating a tree; that I truly, truly love doing my job, and that my life is like a beautiful tapestry, and every inch of it is precious and has meaning.

It might seem funny or be easy to forget, but I make records because I need to. The songs are spells; a spell to let go of something, a spell to unlock a door. Every time I put something into words just as I see it, set it to the right music, a knot comes loose in me. But it hurts too, confronting the knots. I’ve made enough records to know that this feeling of my skin coming off is part of it. I know I’m gonna look back on this year with fondness and a bit of awe, knowing it was the year that locked everything into place, the year that transitioned me from my childhood working decade to the one that comes next — one that even through all this, I’m so excited for. It’s just hard when you’re in it.

So in this state, I went out on a short European festival tour. We built a cool new version of the show in a couple days. It was good to change gears and get out of my head. I put effort into the show, changing the setlist and arrangements, it was cool how you picked up on that, and it felt good dancing to the new versions with you, looking out at you, all sweaty with your friends, all on the same drugs. I felt the throb of history that’s under this music now, how each year makes these songs feel more like collectively written and sung pieces. I left my body and merged with yours and it was ecstasy. Then I went home to a business hotel and washed the glitter and smoke out of my hair.

Lauren took some beautiful pictures — sharing a few with you here.

Backstage in Portugal.

Cute Polaroid series of the 6pm, 8pm, and 10pm versions of me on a show day.

I’ve read some great books recently, including Drive Your Plow over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk, Speedboat by Renata Adler, Motherhood by Sheila Heti, Rough Translations by Molly Giles (brought into my life by sweet angel bookworm Chris Chang), Birds of America by Lorrie Moore; am waiting on my copies of ĀRIA by Jessica Hinerangi and Te Ana Ata: Menstruation In The Pre-Colonial Maori World by Ngāhuia Murphy. Was given Wawata - Moon Dreaming by Dr. Hinemoa Elder which I’m loving looking to as the Maramataka evolves.

It was Te Wiki o Te Reo Māori last week, I loved listening to this from London. This vid from Hemi showing the similarities between te reo Māori and ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi is so sick.

Been meaning to tell you about The Kindness Institute too, a mental health resource for Māori rangatahi that has recently lost government funding. Go check out the beautiful, necessary mahi they’re doing — I know the cost of living is cooked for Kiwis right now and pop stars asking people to donate sux, but if you work at a good sized company maybe you can wrangle a donation from your employers?! I’m gonna email my record company about it.

Other bits that have inspired lately:

Dieter Rams’ principle of “as little design as possible”. This fantastic interview with Thom Yorke. Maddie’s unbelievably beautiful Melo inspired tattoo.

Loving the beautiful new Troye songs and vids, Kelela’s Raven hitting right on the e-bike rides home, late to the magic of Frou Frou but glad I’m here, and the rest of my brain is M.T. Hadley, this great Te Whanganui-a-Tara based band Womb, and Talk Talk. And for those it concerns, have been pilled by parasocial big cousins Jason and Chris. My mum just sent me a Sylvia Plath poem that feels like it sums up the above, I’ll copy it here:

They thought death was worth it, but I Have a self to recover, a queen. Is she dead, is she sleeping? Where has she been, With her lion-red body, her wings of glass?

Now she is flying More terrible than she ever was, red Scar in the sky, red comet Over the engine that killed her— The mausoleum, the wax house.

Sylvia Plath, "Stings"

Hope you’re taking care of yourself. Don’t worry about me, I still laugh every day, it’s all moving, even when it goes slow. I’ve accepted the mission — I have a self to recover.

Speak soon, E X X X X X

(source: received this email)

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