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twig-tea · 10 months

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I am freaking out about Be My Favorite Ep8. So much happened! All of it so good! How does this show continue to surprise me?!

This isn't going to be coherent, sorry in advance.

First, the way this show never lies to us in the previews but still manages to make us second-guess?! I think @respectthepetty said this first and it's remained true; I was truly blown away by how the preview of Kawi confessing on the balcony was undercut but still borne through, and even moreso how Kawi crying in Pisaeng's arms in the past/present is made more poignant as we the audience realize that Kawi's also reacting to what he knows happens in this moment in the past, which is his father dying. The storytelling! The throughline from that moment of realization last episode! And the additional weight this gives to Kawi's decision to go back anyway, to relive this moment of loss knowing he absolutely could not fix it?! I am freaking out about how good this is. No wonder he hesitated before going back in time! No wonder he was overwhelmed! I'm not ok.

Then that bit about Kawi asking Pisaeng to stay away in public!! As @lurkingshan said this show is definitely paralleling Krist's real experience and real history, and as an apologist/redemption vehicle I have to say it is doing its job, damn, A++ to everyone involved in that decision.

Then we got Pisaeng's mother once again turning me into an absolute rage monster. @waitmyturtles already said what I wanted to say about this, how her suggestion to run is perfectly contrasted with Max's conversation with Kawi about how it may be more difficult but staying and fighting is worthwhile [note: no judgment to people who legitimately have to leave to survive, as a person who only exists because my Jewish relatives left Ukraine before the town was murdered! Time and place, nuance, etc]. I think @bengiyo is right and this woman is evil, and I always love a story where the banality of evil is allowed to shine.

Then. Then!! We got Kawi giving Pisaeng the diary. The way I GASPED. I cannot tell you all how much I was not struggling with Kawi confessing to Pisaeng with the imbalance of both age and knowledge on his side, and this show said "Not Today, Lying By Omission Gang! Full and Enthusiastic Emotional Consent Only" 😭 I have so many emotions about this. When we saw him with it in the preview I was worried Pisaeng had found it and read it and drawn weird conclusions about what Kawi wants (which...I was half right lol). Kawi really did not have to share this at this point in the narrative, and as that balcony conversation showed, it was a hard sell as the truth. But now everything is on the table. The secrets are out! Anything that comes now will be something external, that they can then choose to either fight together or let break them apart.

I have Thoughts about the future mystic guy showing up in this episode. Are we to take his offer as a representation of the "easy way out" and Pisaeng rejecting it as an indicator of his character [This is currently my favourite theory but I'm not fully convinced; it fits with @lurkingshan's brilliant meta about the way this show is pushing for doing the work, accepting consequences, and not taking shortcuts though]? If Pisaeng had said yes, would he have been given a chance to change his past (but it's a strange moment for him to want to change, having gotten hope from Kawi for the first time); or would he have been given a glimpse of his future to help him make a decision in the present? Are we supposed to think that Pisaeng and Kawi are soulmates and this guy is their guardian angel trying to help them get together faster (but he seemed happy that Pisaeng turned him down?)?

And on that note, I just have to say that I am as happy as everyone else that we're seeing Kawi finally take responsibility for his choices and their consequences, finally think about the impact on other people, and work actively to make the lives of his friends better not just his own. It makes sense to me that Kawi needed to see "success" as he'd defined it and realize it sucked before he was willing to let that go. It also makes sense that he'd mature more quickly after getting years of memories every time he goes into the future. And I think experiencing the loss of his father, Pearmai, and Pisaeng in succession via memory really helped him put in perspective who was important to him. He seems to need to see how something falls out rather than thinking it through in advance, so this seems in character as a means of gaining clarity. The way he was talking about himself with Pisaeng in that flashback was so interesting too, "you didn't tell anyone about me, did you?" as though there IS something to tell; living that future really solidified Kawi as Queer for Kawi, in ways his uncertainty in the present/past hadn't. And there's something lovely about Kawi coming to terms with his sexuality in the past because he's seen how much it hurts Pisaeng in the future if he doesn't. I also really, really love that he still hesitated, and had trouble getting it out because as @waitmyturtles said, change is not easy.(This also feels connected to some of what @dribs-and-drabbles has written about Kawi rewriting his sense of self in real-time).

I'm 100% with @grapejuicegay that I want Kawi to decide to live in the past as his present and to be present for it, and shockingly it seems like in this episode he's already come to that decision himself?! Which now has me wondering what the conflict will be in future and what it will have to do with time travel.

I'm calling now [get ready to clown] that Kawi's going to get too tempted to check his future one last time over a decision, even though Pisaeng tells him not to, and gets stuck in a future he doesn't like. Wild speculation: Pisaeng is dead because of Kawi and Kawi goes to the future guy for one last chance, and he's given two choices: keep things as they are or go back to the first timeline. Kawi goes back to the first timeline (because you can't ever really go back and fix your past), but takes the lessons he learned to improve his (and all his friends') present and future. This show has been really good at giving me better than I could come up with, and I'm looking forward to being proven wrong.

Most of all I just want to celebrate in this moment that this show is doing everything I had hoped (none of which I expected to get), and none of what I'd feared, and it has far, far surpassed my expectations!

#be my favorite meta #be my favorite #so many emotions #be my favorite ep 8 #typed so i can stop thinking it

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anti-romantico · 2 years

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[unethical relationship] ateez yunho P A R T T W O

warnings: therapist!reader, sexaddict!yunho (?), oral (m & f), unprotected sex (do i even have to say it?), dirty talking, uses of: [slut, baby], yh being bossy, hair pulling (f recieving), mouth fucking, over a desk, yh getting turned on by the thought of reader not being on the pill, creampie, fingering, sex tape, cum eating and then they kiss so they share it, riding, spanking, belly bulge, choking

A/N: read author's note from P A R T O N E

words: 5.3k

4th Session

The receptionist was even more confused when he saw Yunho opening the door. It was too early; he didn't sleep, and it was obvious.

— Yunho... Dr... — But before she could answer, you opened your door.

— It's ok, he can come in.

Yunho sat down and grabbed the glass of water you gave him.

— It's 6am, Yunho.

— I was your first patient of the day, why are you here? — Yunho finished his water and put the glass on the table in front of him.

— Doing the paperwork because one of my patients decided to drop out at the last minute.

— I came to apologize.

— At 6 in the morning and probably drunk or hungover?

— None, I didn't drink.

— I accept your apologies, anything else? — You grabbed the glass and got up to pour more water.

— Please, don't push me away, I'm sorry. — Yunho got close to you, holding his head. — I fucked someone else last night and not once were you on my mind.

— Which means therapy worked, congratulations, the door is there. — You pointed at the door, but you only got Yunho grabbing your arm and pulling you close to him.

— Look at me in the eyes and tell me this is one-sided. — You tried to push him away. — Tell me I was the only was fantasizing about fucking you in that couch.

— I thought you came to apologize. — You said, pushing your dirty thoughts away.

— I don't want to lose you. — Yunho brushed his lips from your cheek to your ear.

— You said I wasn't your friend.

— I don't want fuck my friends. — His body pushed yours until you back felt the cabinet where you put books and toys for your small patients.

— We can't, Yunho, this is so inappropriate. — You said, trying to convince yourself you didn't want this.

Yunho pulled your hands and took you to the couch, alarming you. — Let's talk, then.

You looked at him confused. — Talk? — You stayed there standing in front of Yunho while he sat down.

— Is this one-sided?

— No.

— Do I have an opportunity?

— I don't know, Yunho, I'm confused. I just got out of a long relationship. You are... were my patient until yesterday. This is too messy.

— Ok, ok, relax, come... — Yunho pulled you down, making you sit down next to him.

— Look, I think we both need to... think about all this. This week is going to be good for us. — Yunho nodded. — Also, there aren't any new doctors, so I need you to make a journal or a diary about last week and this next week.

— I didn't accept the new doctor thing, [Y/N].

— I know, but that's my condition to talk with you next week. Also, no sex for the week, I think you'll be fine.

— Are you going to make me suffer for what I did? — Yunho smirked, following you with his eyes as you walked to your desk.

— No, this is the therapist talking, also don't forget your activities. — You said tying your hair and sitting down on your chair.

Yunho was walking out of the building when he saw Ryujin getting down from her car.

— A warning could've been nice, you know? — Yunho said, making Ryujin smile when she saw him. — You look different.

— I hope that's good. — Yunho nodded. — Well, thanks, then. I enjoyed it, by the way.

— Me too, uh... we don't have to... you know, do it again. — Yunho said scratching the back of his head.

— She caught you on her web, didn't she? — Yunho frowned, causing Ryujin to laugh. — You're not the first one that falls for Dr. Lee's charms, handsome. But we're the ones getting therapy, it must be our fault.

— It's not like she's interested in me. — Yunho said, he didn't like the way she was talking about you.

— Relax, handsome, just telling you what I know. She's never interested, pretty sure she's already back with her boyfriend. It's always like that, they break up, either she or he cheated on the other and after a week they are together again. — Ryujin checked her phone and then put it in her back pocket. — You have my number in case you want to... you know, do it again, I do keep my promises. — She gave him a soft kiss on the lips before walking to the building. Yunho caught you staring from your window.

{-----}

— So, she's not your therapist anymore? — Mingi asked Yunho once he finished to tell him and Seonghwa the whole story.

— I don't think so. — Yunho drank from his beer and looked at Seonghwa. — Look, I'm sorry for not telling you this, but sending me to therapy because I enjoy fucking in front of others was my limit.

— You need others' consent to making it right, Yunho.

— I know, the cops told me that the first time they arrested me.

— Wait, so Yunho never needed therapy? — Mingi said, cleaning the corner of his mouth.

— No, and we only made it worse by getting her a cute doctor. — Seonghwa joked, making Yunho smile.

— If it makes you feel better, I finally talked about... her.

— And how did you feel? — Mingi got up and grabbed another beer from the table.

— I didn't feel anything, it was like talking with you two.

— Now I get why you were so down for her in just a week. — Seonghwa teased.

— It wasn't that fast.

— Yes, it was. — Seonghwa smirked, emptying his beer.

— And what will happen? — Mingi looked at his phone.

— What do you mean?

— I mean, you'll talk to her, pretty sure she will tell you how she feels about you, but you also have this "Ryujin situation".

— I don't think I'll call Ryujin again, not until I know what will happen with [Y/N].

5th Session

Yunho couldn't even consider it an appointment, he would just enter your office and give you his journal. The receptionist smiled at him as he walked.

— Come in. — Your voice made him feel nervous. Yunho opened and closed the door. — I need to do this paperwork, please sit down. — "I think she's upset"

— I thought I only needed to bring the journal.

— Then, leave it there, I really need to finish this, I don't have time. — You said continuing to write and type.

Yunho slowly walked to your desk and left the journal. — At what time can I pick you up?

— For what?

— To talk, you said we will talk.

— I said I needed to think about it, and I haven't had the time to think about it.

Yunho grabbed the journal again and walked to the door, but suddenly stopped. — Is this because you saw me kissing Ryujin?

— No, Yunho, my feelings don't revolve around you. — You said, massaging your temples.

— Then, why are you acting like this? Not saying we were fine, but you definitely weren't mad at me when I left. — You didn't answer, you just went back to your work. It wasn't urgent, but you needed an excuse to not think about Yunho. — Are you jealous?

You laughed without humor. — You talked about fucking girls this past month with me, and you think I fucking care about a kiss? — You put down your pen and got up from your chair.

— Then, tell me what's wrong. — Yunho got close to your desk and threw the journal.

— You should go, Yunho, this is getting personal, and I still have to do the paperwork for your voluntary discharge.

— It's about that? You didn't want me to leave? We both know I never needed therapy.

— I never forced you to stay, if you consider you don't need therapy then there is no more reason for you to come.

— For fucks sake, [Y/N], give me something! I can't read your mind. — Yunho walked around your desk and gave a quick look at what you were doing. — This is not about my discharge.

— You're not my only patient, Yunho.

— But you still have my time free, by now you could already have another patient, but you didn't take any other case. — Yunho leaned down and cage you against your desk.

— Get out of my office, Yunho.

— Are you sure that's what you want? — He whispered; his face really close to you. But a couple of soft knocks pulled him away from her, casually taking his journal from the floor.

— Sorry, but it's the report ready? — The receptionist asked from the door.

— It's almost done, I'll send it once I finish. — She nodded and left. — 9pm, I'll close for her since I have to prepare some stuff for other patients.

Yunho smirked and got close to you again. — See you then. — He leaned down and kissed your cheek before leaving.

You could see his car parked right outside your window, but he wasn't inside of it. It was only 8pm, but the last patient had already left, and the receptionist was just turning off her computer when she saw Yunho entering the building.

— She's in her office. — Yunho almost laughed and nodded.

He knocked before opening the door without your permission. You were closing the blinds.

— I have to check the security system, come in. — You said, walking out the room.

Yunho poured a glass of water before sitting down in his usual place on the couch.

— Ok, I'm almost done, so if you want to vent something, go ahead, I won't charge you. — You joked, making him chuckle.

"I think she's in a better mood, that's your sign" — I went to test myself again. — Yunho said, giving another sip to his glass. — Also talked with my friends, I've been hiding them a lot lately, at least they apologized for sending me to therapy for having an exhibitionism kink. — You nodded, smirking at the mention of his "kink" — You have some?

— This is about you wanting to vent something, Yunho, not about me. — You went back to your desk and started to save everything in different folders.

— Oh, come on, you let me hear how you destroyed your stupid ex by the phone, I think secrets between us shouldn't exist.

— That was an accident, it was the first time I took a phone call while working and didn't know that bathroom was going to expose me like that. — You wrote your patients' names in each folder.

— Then tell me about the patient you had before me. — Yunho said in a more serious tone. You looked at him scared, how the fuck did he know?

Yunho sent Ryujin a message with his address, she just took 20 minutes to arrive. None of his roommates were home yet and he needed to take advantage of that.

— If I'm honest, I thought that I'd never hear from you. — Ryujin said when Yunho opened his door.

— I didn't call you for that. — Yunho stopped Ryujin when she tried to kiss him.

— Of course you didn't. — Ryujin leaned her back on the wall and crossed her arms. — Is this about what I told you the other week? — Yunho walked to his couch and patted next to him. — You're too handsome to worry about a woman that most likely is fucking her boyfriend again.

Yunho sat down, putting distance between them and looked at her. — I just want to know about the "other times"

— There is only one before you, at least that I know about. — Ryujin made memory. — Hongjoong was his name. He had an actual sex addiction. He would tried to fuck whoever cross the building door, walked close to him in the parking lot, breath in the same direction as him... you get the idea. He waited at least 3 weeks for a doctor to take his case, before that, he had to go to the building every day. Until your girl got called and immediately took the case. Her boss got her security and even a gun just in case, but somehow, Hongjoong started to get better, he would ignore any female around him and patiently wait for his appointment. I was sure Lee would have a statue outside the building after he got his discharge. But then, Lee's boyfriend came to the building, and he was mad. He yelled at everyone to tell him where she was. Lee didn't have an option, but to let him get in her office.

— And? — Yunho said when Ryujin went silent.

— Hongjoong hacked the security system and got a 7-week-long footage of him and Lee fucking in her office every time he had an appointment. — Ryujin took a deep breath and looked at Yunho, the poor guy looked like a puppy that just got scolded. — He sent it to Lee's boyfriend in an attempt to make him break up with her. They did, but got back together after two weeks.

— Wait, the 7 weeks of this guy having [Y/N] as a therapist, they fucked?

— She was his therapist for 9 weeks, but I guess two weeks was for them to get to know each other enough for her to risk her job and license.

— And how is it that the police didn't get involved?

— Lee convinced her boyfriend to not call them. He was sure the sex was unconsented. Not sure how her boss didn't fire her.

— How do you know all of this?

— After Hongjoong's discharge, I started to frequent him in this cafeteria close to my house. I tried to avoid him at first, just in case, but he was nice. He would pay for my coffee, get me pastries. He told me his plan after a couple of weeks; I tried to tell him to leave Lee alone, but he was obsessed with her. — Ryujin went silent again. — Last thing I knew it was that Lee talked to Hongjoong behind her boyfriend's back. They had their "closure" and Hongjoong promised to not bother her again. I never saw him after that.

You took a deep breath and finished putting the folders in your drawer. — Who told you about that?

— So, it's true? — Yunho walked to you and got behind your chair. — Why did you take my case, Dr. Lee? — He whispered in your ear. — You have enough experience to know that I never needed therapy, you could've said that to my friend, but you didn't.

— Yunho. — You turned your head, finding Yunho's really close to yours. Not a single word came out of your mouth.

Yunho smirked. "she's all yours" — Stand up and hands on the desk, baby. — You obeyed, making Yunho's cock twitch in his pants.

— I did tell your friend you didn't need therapy, that liking being watched was something normal. — You went silent when you felt his big hand palmed your butt.

— I guess I'll have to talk with Mingi later. — Yunho pulled you from your shoulders and turned you around. — Now, I want you to take off your blaze. — This time you didn't immediately obey, making him lean his head to the side. — Didn't make myself clear? — He grabbed your leg and made you round his hip with it; you could feel his bulge. — I said, take off that fucking blaze. — You threw your head back when his hip buckled into you.

You finally did it, letting him see your white blouse. — Who told you about Hongjoong?

— That's not important, baby, he is not important. — Yunho took off your glasses and threw them on the desk. — Get on your knees.

And you didn't know if it was pure excitement, but your legs immediately gave up when he said those words. He didn't have to tell you what to do next, you undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. He helped you by pulling his clothes down, letting you see his hard cock right in front of you.

— I know you won't mind. — You looked up at his words, finding his phone pointing at your face. — It wasn't that hard to guess you love being recorded, but you couldn't risk it again, I know the cameras of your office are off. — You smirked and felt yourself wetting your panties. — What are you waiting for? Suck my cock.

You took his cock with one hand and stroked it before starting to give kitten licks. Yunho bit his lip and tried to keep his hands steady; he was going to love this video. You sucked on the head, making him moan, god you needed to hear more of that. Slowly, you put him fully inside your mouth before pulling it out and repeating, but Yunho wasn't enjoying your teasing, so he grabbed your head and made you deep-throat him, you took a breath from your nose and looked up. "I fucking knew it" Yunho thought, pulling your hair back and repeating his actions. Being used by Yunho was something you've been fantasizing from the moment he crossed your door, his height making you wish he would carry you around and fuck you on every surface in your office, and you knew his cock was big, you would touched yourself by the thought of him fucking your mouth.

He buckled up his hips, just the way you wanted him to, making you moan around him. Yunho's thrusts were fast and aggressive, worrying about you from time to time, but when you started to moan around him, his concerns disappeared. He didn't last long after you swallowed around him, once again earning a moan from him. Soon after, you felt his cum in your mouth, and even though he tried to pull you back, you grabbed his thighs and looked straight to the phone, swallowing every drop.

— Fuck, you're so hot, baby, come here. — And without caring you had cum and spit around your mouth and jaw, Yunho pulled you from your hair and kissed you. He pulled away, making you whine. When you opened your eyes, you saw him walking to a cabinet beside the window and positioned the phone. He went back to you and kissed you rough, one of his hands traveled down your clothed cunt and put some pressure, making you bite his lip. His skilled fingers opened your jeans, entering to massage you over your underwear. — Why did you take my case, baby? — He asked again, continuing with the teasing.

— Your friend... fuck... Your friend told me about the few times you got arrested. — Your breaths were mixing. You kissed him, him attacking your tongue with his, your right hand grabbed his arms when he started to pay a little bit more attention to your clit. — I knew it was just a kink after our first session.

— And why did you keep scheduling more sessions? — Yunho kissed your cheek, patiently waiting for you to answer.

— I wanted to see you more.

— If I remember correctly, you argued with your ex about him cheating on you, but you did the same before. Why? — Yunho kneeled in front of you, pulling your bottoms down in the process.

— Yunho, please, don't want to talk about that right now. — You brushed his hair out of his eyes before he started to give little kisses on your thighs.

— Answer me. — Yunho got close to your cunt, brushing his lips and pulling your left leg, putting it over your chair. He now had access.

— After Hongjoong, we didn't exactly get back together, we established we could see other people since our relationship was getting... boring. — You bit your lip when he gave you a long lick. — The rule was to tell the other about it... but he didn't tell me about this girl he was fucking at the same time I was fucking Hongjoong. — Yunho sucked hard, making you grab his hair and pull it slightly. — He dared to get mad at me for cheating on him when he did the same.

Yunho nodded, but didn't answer, instead, he ate you out like his life depended on it. You held on to the edge of your desk for support and moaned aloud. Yunho's tongue was definitely skilled, not a single zone of your cunt got ignored. You felt one of his fingers teased your entry, making you whimper.

— Open your blouse, but don't take it off. — You did as he told you, massaging your tits over your bra once it was fully open. You looked down and found his eyes already on you.

You pinched your nipples when he thrusted his tongue in you, making him chuckle. His finger finally penetrated you and just a second later he added another one. You kept moaning while trying to not fall, you were giving your butt all your trust to keep you on the desk, and you hope it didn't betray you.

Yunho stopped his actions and stood up, his lips swallowed and glistering. — So, it's over with them? — Yunho asked as he unhooked your bra straps and back to take it off.

You nodded confused on why he was so interested. You put your leg down and glare at his tall figure when he took off his hoodie and shirt. — Are you going to let me cum?

— I don't know, baby, I think you deserve to suffer a little more. — Yunho kissed again in a soft and almost romantic way. — Tell me how much you need me.

— You already made me wait over a month to fuck me, Jeong, please do it already. — You said in a whine, pulling him close to you by the neck.

Yunho laughed at your desperate voice. He guided his cock to your pussy, teasing you a little, and without letting you protest, he rammed into you, making you moan over his mouth. He grabbed one of your legs and rounded his hip with it to have better access while the other one was back on your chair.

The pace was slow, but the thrusts were hard, making the desk move under you two. His sharp moves made you speechless, you swore you felt him in your stomach. Your tits were bouncing along with his hips, hypnotizing him. He loved the way that blouse looked on you, just like every blouse you wore, but what he didn't know was that it was on purpose, you notice the way he would eye at your chest every time you would lean over to write, every time you got close to him, his eyes would be on your boobs.

— You better not try to keep those pretty sounds to yourself. — Yunho growled when he noticed you trying to not be too loud by biting your lower lip.

The feeling of his skin inside you made you dizzy, throwing your head back and opening your mouth. Your blouse falling on your sides, giving Yunho the whole view.

— F-faster... please. — You protested.

Yunho smirked again and leaned his head to the side. — Wouldn't that be too much?

Shaking your head, no, you grabbed his neck and kissed him. — Fuck me faster, baby, please. — You said over his lips.

And that nickname did wonders in Yunho's head. He grabbed your hips and neck for some support before starting to move his hips at a faster pace. The strength of his movements making things fall from the desk. The wet noises from the office were for sure audible if you were in the hallway. "maybe she'll have to worry about the footage of the waiting area" Yunho thought, making him squeeze your skin between his fingers. Your moans were loud, you were so close. Your fingers traveled to your clit to play with it. Yunho followed your hand, knowing exactly what you were doing. He spat a little bit of saliva to help you to massage your bud, the warm feeling making you throw your head back again.

You got tight, making it a little bit difficult for Yunho to move, but when you finally cum, your cunt relaxed, and with a couple more thrusts, Yunho cum inside you, sending shivers all over your body, making you moan.

You two took a couple of minutes to catch your breaths, Yunho's head resting on your shoulder while you scratched his hair.

Yunho raised his head and looked at you, making you smile. You shared a soft kiss before he pulled out of you. You were sensitive, but you still tried to keep his load inside you, loving the feeling.

— I hope you know by now you weren't the only one fantasizing about fucking me on that couch. — You said, smirking. Yunho walked to the phone while you went to the couch and waited for him to settle the device on the desk.

You gave him a look before pointing at the couch, indicating that you wanted him to sit down. Yunho obeyed, stroking his cock again. You hovered over him, positioning your legs on each of his sides. One of his hands was on your waist, helping you to get in position, his other hand guided his cock to your cunt, and you didn't know if he was going to tease again so you just swallowed him to not risk it.

Yunho threw his head back, not caring if the moan he let out was too loud. He rested his head in the back of the couch for a couple of seconds before looking at you again. You were struggling too, you felt him even deeper. Your eyes traveled to your stomach and bit your lip. It was barely noticeable, but it was enough for you to start bouncing over him. You grabbed Yunho's hand and made him feel himself on your stomach.

— Fuck, that's me? — Yunho moaned, you only nodded and continued bouncing.

Yunho felt his and your cum dripping out of you to his legs, making your moves easier. The wet sounds were a huge turn on for both of you.

Again, his attention was in your boobs, bouncing with you. He grabbed one with his mouth and sucked on it, massaging the nipple with his tongue. You weren't a huge fan of your ex sucking your tits, but the way Yunho did it, made you feel goosebumps.

Your legs started to get tired, and Yunho noticed it. — You want more of me inside you? — His hand was in your throat, making you whimper. You wanted him to choke you.

— Please, Yunho. — You weren't sure if you were asking him to cum inside you again or to choke you.

— Are you sure? I think you can barely handle what I just gave you. — Yunho said, referring to the wet mess between your legs. — Get up, hands on the back of the couch, you better get a good grip.

Yunho pulled out of you and gave you a small spank. You did as he says, opening your legs and waiting for him. All you felt was a rough spank; you whimpered.

— Look how you're dripping on the couch. — Another spank. — You always told me to use a condom, but look at you — His fingers soothe the pain in your butt cheek. —, begging for my cum, moaning like a fucking slut, dripping all over your legs. Hope you're on birth control... or not. — Was the last thing your brain registered before his cock fucked you from behind.

He didn't show mercy, his hand kept with the rough spanking, making you clench around him. It was so much you had to bite the couch, but not for too long; Yunho pulled your hair rough and made your back touch his chest.

— Don't you fucking dare, I want to hear every single sound coming out of you. — Yunho said between thrusts before attacking your neck. And you were about to protest squeezing his hip behind you, but the only thing you felt was his lips and tongue. — You thought I was going to leave marks? — He grabbed your neck again, this time choking you. — And risking your job? — You started to feel dizzy, loving the feeling of his fingers squeezed on the sides.

You almost thanked him for worrying about your job, but your fucked up state didn’t allow you to. Everything that came out of your mouth was whimpers and cries.

Yunho's thrusts started to be sloppy and unsynchronized, his moans were higher and louder. — Please, tell me you're close. — You nodded. He gave you a specific hard thrust that made your arms give up and rest your body on the couch. Yunho was fully on the couch, sharp and hard thrusting into you. You were the first one to cum, getting tighter around him and helping him to cum inside you again. You two didn't stop moving, riding your highs until Yunho's body fell over you, his arms on each side being the only thing keeping him from crushing you.

You noticed his arms shaking and turned your head. — Are you ok?

Yunho nodded and pulled out. You were about to get down off the couch when you felt him laying down and pulling one of your legs in the process. It took you a second to understand what he wanted.

Your pussy was immediately attacked by his tongue. His hands were on your butt squeezing it and not letting you pull away. You were sensitive and didn't know if you could cum one more time, but Yunho was determined to suck the cum out of you.

You didn't last long, your juices mixing with the ones that were already in Yunho's mouth. His glistering mouth looked so inviting, making you face him and kiss him.

His hands grabbed your ass and softly pulled you to his brand-new boner. You shook your head no, but your hand was already on its way to his cock. He gasped when you started to stroke him while your tongues were fighting for dominance. Yunho's hip buckled up, asking you to stroke faster, so you did. The skin of his cock wasn't wet enough for your liking, so you got up and spat on it.

He growled when he felt your mouth on him again, but didn't have the energy to even guide your head, he just needed to cum. You sucked and choked on him, making it easier for him to shoot his load in your mouth.

You finally laid on his chest, catching your breaths. You trace the lines of his abs, making him flex his muscles under your touch.

— How do you feel? — You asked, the doctor in you escaping of her comfort zone.

— Tired, but satisfied. — Yunho answered, grabbing your face and kissing you.

— You better send me a copy of that. — You said, pointing at the phone.

"Right, you were recording, big boy" The voice in Yunho's head came back, making him almost laugh. — You'll get as many copies as you want, as long as you promise we'll watch it together.

And his request made you realize. Were you going to continue with this? He wasn't your patient anymore, so your only excuse to see him was gone. But said this comment gave you a little hope, that meant he wanted to keep seeing you, outside of your office at least. But, was that what you wanted?

{-----}

A/N2: soooo this is it 😭 thank you so much for reading, every single one of you have a special place in my heart 💙 I'm working on other fics but like I previously said I won't post them back to back and maybe it will take a while for me to post the next one so yeah you still can send asks if you want to vent or just to say hi you'll make me soooo happy with that

I love you hope y'all doing great

— moon

Alsoooo, did you like the new blog theme 👀

#kpop smut #ateez smut #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #ateez yunho smut #ateez jeong yunho smut

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raeflora · 1 year

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you're supposed to care (but you never make me scream)

[blair wants to try something new in bed with chuck- I mean dan, definitely dan... aka the only time I'll ever write dair, set between 5x20 and 5x21 ♡ rated e]

If Blair were to be entirely honest with herself, which is a rarity as of late, she enjoys sex. The intimacy of it, the overwhelming pleasure, the way she can spend hours and hours in bed and not get tired of it. Finding what you adore and what you don't, getting to discover parts of yourself you never knew about. Doing all of it with someone you love and trust and know so intimately. It makes her heart flutter.

Not that she's experienced any of that lately, of course.

Her relationship with Dan is fine. They talk about art and cinema and books, which is pleasant enough. He stays overnight at her penthouse sometimes, and gets so into talking about whatever pretentious movie he just saw that often he forgets there are other things you can do in bed beside talk. Sometimes, she does too. Their foray into drunken elevator sex, and then even more drunken alleyway sex, convinced her that somewhere deep, deep, inside Dan Humphrey might be ok in bed. She just hadn't experienced it very much.

Experience. That's the word that swims around in her head as she waves Dan off that morning for another day of whatever it is that he does. She just has so much more sexual experience to draw from. Brushing past Dorota she declares that she will spend the day doing important research, and that she's not to be disturbed. After all, this is definitely the most productive way to spend her day. Definitely.

She retrieves her diaries from the end of her bed, gratefully noting that they're so easy to access. Turning to the ones she knows are from 2009 to 2010 she begins flipping through the first, pausing on an entry partway through.

June 20th 2009. Tonight I went out for dinner with Chuck. It was... exhilarating. He took me to a private dining lounge where we were completely secluded from everyone else, which, aside from being so romantic, was also so arousing. Naturally Chuck felt the same. He didn't even wait until the waiter had left the room before his fingers were on me, making me burn for him. When he moved them up into me I thought I was going to scream. Maybe I did. I couldn't focus on anything but Chuck.

Blair frowns, ignoring the heat in her cheeks. Being fingered in a restaurant was incredible, but Dan doesn't like expensive restaurants, and she doesn't really want to take him to any. Or have his fingers anywhere near the inside of her La Perlas. She continues her search, stopping again near the end of this diary.

September 18th 2009. We had breakfast with my mother this morning. I know Chuck would never say it, but I think he likes the domesticity of it. Truthfully, I think my mother does as well. She's taken to Chuck better than I expected, and I think she's actually happy for me. Well, happier than when she walked in on him going down on me at breakfast during the summer at least. After we ate Chuck and I bathed together. And had sex. It was wonderful. We've had sex in his bath and shower at the Palace, so it's not like it was entirely unfamiliar. At least it made going to NYU today more bearable, plus Chuck said he'd have a surprise waiting for me tonight. I can't wait.

Blair huffs, tossing the diary aside, still ignoring how warm her face is. There's no way she can have sex in the bath with Dan, she doesn't think his apartment even has a shower, and there's no way they're doing it here, her bath is simply too small for the first attempt. Scowling, she picks up another diary, not bothering to check the year, and begins scanning the pages for anything useful. She stops.

February 2nd 2010. "Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same" I'm writing this as Chuck is asleep next to me, my brooding Heathcliff is apparently easier to tire than I thought. He deserves his rest though, tonight was our first escape from reality for a while and I know he needs it. I've been asking if we can play Wuthering Heights for weeks, and he finally agreed. It was everything I dreamed and more. Chuck was everything I dreamed and more. Hearing him quoting Brontë by heart was the most arousing and intoxicating experience, although I know his copy is just as well-read as mine. The way he made love to me was intense but still so caring. Still Chuck, but also different. It doesn't matter whose names we use in the end, because he will always be my Chuck. Always. "I have to remind myself to breathe- almost to remind my heart to beat"

Blair hums, a smile blooming onto her lips as she snaps the diary shut. Roleplay! Of course! It's the perfect way to mix fantasy with reality, and hopefully get Dan somewhere near satisfying her. He's always talking about how he's an intellectual and how similar their tastes in books are, so this should be something he can do. She sets her diaries down next to her current one, and begins to plot.

Obviously, there are her favourite books to choose from. Anna Karenina. Wuthering Heights. Pride and Prejudice. Or Shakespeare plays, she's always been partial to Much Ado About Nothing. Something about Beatrice and Benedick just gets her really turned on. She's sure that Dan will be able to quote at least one of them with all his literary prowess. Actually, before she can plan any further she should probably check. After all, she needs to know what outfits to get. She picks up her phone and dials him, already starting to look through her closet. He picks up surprisingly quickly.

"Dan hi" she coos, fingers running over purple velvet "I hope I'm not interrupting you"

"No of course not. Actually I was just about to-"

She cuts him off "great!" There was something I wanted to ask you. Would you be interested in playing with me tonight?"

"Play like- like Scrabble or something? I thought you hated boardgames"

She sighs "no, Dan. Play with me like roleplay with me. Sexually"

There's silence for a moment before he speaks again "oh, uh, sure. I guess- I've never really, um, what did you have in mind?"

"How about Jane Austen?" she chirps

"I'm not really an Austen fan, y'know? There's a lot of, uh, brooding and it's just not really my thing"

She tries not to sound too disappointed "oh ok. Then how about something by the Brontë sisters?"

"Again it's, uh, doesn't Rochester go blind? I'm not sure that's exactly erotic"

"Alright" she tries to keep her voice even "how about you come over and I surprise you?"

"Yeah that, uh, sounds fun. Look, I need to go but I'll see you tonight"

"See you tonight" she sighs "bye"

Blair groans, flopping down onto the couch in her closet. Rochester going blind can be erotic thank you very much. Once, with Chuck, she blindfolded him and had him navigate her body entirely through touch. He made her orgasm over and over again. It was beautiful. Anyway, where was she? Ah yes. Dan. She can still make this work, she tells herself. Roleplay doesn't have to be specific characters, it can simply be a theme or an idea. There must be some fantasy she wants Dan to play out that he would never think of himself. There just has to be.

Wait, that's it!

She can turn Dan into a hygienic, rich, sexy, amazing in bed, hygienic, passionate, did she mention hygienic, man for one night. He'd never think of that. And she knows just how to do it. Time to get to work.

Blair hums idly to herself as she goes around her room that evening, lighting candles and making sure everything looks perfect. It does, naturally. She just hopes that Dan actually appreciates her efforts this time. Her outfit is all ready, hidden under the long green silk robe she doesn't actually remember buying that somehow found its way into her closet. It must have been a gift.

Her outfit and accessories for Dan are spread across her bed. Now she just needs him. She's not entirely sure what's taking him so long, given that neither of them exactly have jobs right now. Well, technically, Dan's a writer. She always forgets. Maybe he's writing something and that's why he's late. Maybe she'll make him roleplay as someone punctual next time.

"Blair it's me" Dan's voice cuts through her thoughts from the other side of the door "can I come in?"

She gives her bed one last look over "of course. Come on in..."

Dan steps in cautiously, as if he expects her to pounce on him. Please. She still has some dignity. She watches as he takes in the candles and chilling champagne, until his eyes land on the clothes spread out over her duvet and the black bag next to them.

"Don't be nervous" she coos, wondering when she started to sound like a dove, "you'll enjoy what I've got planned. I promise"

"I'm uh- wow, I wasn't expecting to have to get changed"

"It's roleplay, Dan. You can't exactly fulfill your wildest fantasies in the clothes you've been wearing all day" she finishes by playfully tugging his shirt.

"I guess not. So what wild fantasy-" he gestures his arms around, in a way Blair assumes is meant to be sexy, as he starts to unbutton his collar "are we fulfilling tonight?"

Blair smiles coyly "you'll be a hot, well-groomed, hygienic, rich young professional and I'll be your latest conquest. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, but why did you emphasise hygienic?"

"What do you mean?" Blair frowns.

"You said hot, well-groomed and hygienic-"

"And rich"

"Of course. But uh, why is hygienic in there?"

"Because it's a fantasy Dan" Blair explains slowly, patience dwindling " it's not meant to be like real life"

Dan frowns, making his face look like a confused chihuahua, "I'm hygienic Blair"

"Mm-hmm. Anyway do you want to see your outfit?"

She claps, spinning around to lift up the garment bag. Dan takes it apprehensively, clearly trying to feel what's inside.

"Go and put it on. When you're done there are a few finishing touches I need to do to you and then we can start"

She pushes him into her bathroom, and sits back on her bed to wait. She never really had to wait for Chuck, she realises before she can stop herself. They would get changed together, already halfway in character, or they would both turn up ready. They never wanted to waste a second on awkwardness or waiting. Unlike Dan, apparently.

He finally emerges, clad in a Dolce & Gabbana suit, Turnbull & Asser shirt and bowtie, and Bottega shoes. Blair grins, beckoning him over. He looks uncomfortable up close, but ironically he's never looked better. She spritzes him with Dior's Fahrenheit cologne, inhaling the familiar woody and Sicilian mandarin scent. Perfect.

"Blair" he starts, frown creasing between his eyebrows "I look like Chuck"

She almost laughs "what?"

"I look" he gestures up and down himself "like Chuck Bass"

"No you don't" she protests, pushing his still too long hair back and discreetly wiping her hand on her robe to rid herself of his hair's seemingly permanent oiliness.

"I'm wearing a bowtie"

"That's just how rich, hygienic men dress Hu- Dan"

"It just feels like maybe you want to have sex with Chuck and not me. Are you sure you weren't thinking of him when you put this fantasy together"

"Don't be stupid, I haven't thought about Chuck in forever" she retorts, carefully avoiding mentioning that she's thought of Chuck approximately 78 times today, which is fewer than yesterday she'll have you know.

"Really?"

"Of course" she soothes, toying with the tie of her robe "besides, don't you want to see what I'm wearing?"

He smiles stupidly, reaching for her robe himself. She rapidly drops it before he can get there. No need to have him in character just yet. Her soft lilac Agent Provocateur bra pushes her breasts up in a way she never felt was necessary until starting this romance with Dan, the matching delicate panties half hidden beneath the lace garter belt holding up her stockings. She gazes up at him, eyelashes fluttering.

"Do you like it?" she asks softly.

"Uh yeah. You- you look great"

"Just great?" she prompts.

He pauses briefly, considering his words "really great. You look really great" is what he settles on.

Blair plasters on a smile before moving the bag with the Fahrenheit cologne in. Showtime.

"So what do you want our scenario to be?" she asks, coming to sit on the bed.

"Scenario?" Dan echoes.

"You know, you're a rich professional, I'm your latest conquest, is this our first time, are we at your place or mine, how did we get here? Also, how many rounds do we go, are you dominant or submissive, do we need a safe word? Come on, you should be good at this" she encourages.

"Dominant or- wow uh," he murmurs "well, it's our first time and, uh, we're at your place. Our relationship was meant to be strictly professional until our explosive chemistry left us needing to take it into the bedroom. How's that so far?"

Blair refrains from commenting on the explosive chemistry line "good, good, keep going"

"Uh, we go until you tell me to stop. And our safe word is-um-" he looks around the room, eyes landing on Blair's shelves "cabbage"

"Like... my doll?"

"Yeah. I thought safe words were meant to be stupid things you wouldn't say during sex"

Her safe word with Chuck was either stop, red, or "I have not the pleasure of understanding you" from Pride and Prejudice if they were feeling dramatic. They often were. Saying something stupid feels wrong somehow. Ordinary.

Blair's smile doesn't reach her eyes as she speaks "good. Well now that's all clear shall we begin? How do you want me?"

Dan awkwardly positions her on her back, her hands lamely at her sides. It'll improve, she thinks, once they get going. Once her fantasy can begin.

"We shouldn't be doing this" Dan starts, his voice strangely low, and Blair realises that he's trying to act, "after all, what would everyone say?"

"But I want to. I want you" comes out stronger than she intended, her fantasy already beginning in her mind, "I want to know what it's like to be in the arms of a man like you"

"Oh you do? Well tell me what you want"

"Touch me"

Blair shuts her eyes, and lets her own fantasy take over.

Chuck's hands are warm on her, sliding up and down her sides, teasing her, making her want more before they've even really begun. His fingers trace the thin band of her bra, not yet dipping under but the promise of it is there. She can feel it. He gently runs his palm down her taut stomach, long fingers gliding effortlessly over her skin until he reaches her thighs, quickly snapping each stocking away from the garter belt, making her hips arch up off of the bed in search for more.

"Not yet" he husks from somewhere above her "I'm going to make you work harder than that, baby"

She complies, pouting just to tease him. His hands are back at her bra, softly cupping her breasts through the thin silk. Then, they are back on her sides, his own way of teasing her. His breath is deliciously warm on her neck as he kisses her there, his familiar scent curling into her nostrils. His kisses are slow, deliberately placed up and down her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone. It is exquisite. It is torture. It is Chuck.

Except.

Except it's not. Chuck's hands do not press too hard against her ribs but too gently at her waist. Chuck's fingers are not as slender as the ones pulling uselessly at her garter belt. Chuck's kisses on her neck are not sloppy or too soft. Blair opens her eyes. Reality hits her like a Nate Archibald punch to the face.

It is Dan's hands that are too hard, too gentle. It is Dan's slender fingers that are tugging pathetically at her garter belt. It is Dan's kisses on her neck that are too sloppy, too soft. Blair pulls away.

"I think it's a little late to play hard to get baby" Dan drawls, and she nearly shoves him out of her bed for daring to talk to her like that.

"I- don't call me tha- stop" she tries, too caught up in her own fantasy to remember what theirs is meant to be.

"Huh?" is Dan's eloquent reply.

She huffs, unable to prevent her eyes from rolling as she speaks "Cabbage, Dan. Cabbage"

His eyes grow wide "oh sorry, are you ok? Was that- was that too much? Do you want me to go slower?"

She wants him to go out the door, but that's not what she says, "I just need a minute" is what she decides on instead "I don't think this is working"

"Of course, I'm so sorry" he lies down next to her, "we can change position if you want. Or I can try literature? Uh, whatever souls are made of his and mine are the same and all that"

"Our souls" Blair corrects automatically "it's our souls"

"Oh yeah, sure. So, do you want to try again?"

Blair pauses. Does she? Tonight was meant to be a fantasy, but she feels closer to reality than she has for months.

"Alright" comes out of her mouth, surprising even her, "let's try it again"

Dan grins, climbing back on top of her. This time she reaches up to unbutton his shirt, her eyes closing instinctively.

The silk of Chuck's bowtie slides easily between her fingers, before she tosses it into the darkness, following quickly with his shirt. He slides her bra off in return, head dipping to kiss between her breasts. She gasps softly as he descends down her body, kissing teasingly above the band of her La Perlas. He tugs at them playfully with his teeth, hands sneaking back up her body to cup her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples.

"Chuck, oh God-" she moans, one hand twisting into the sheets, the other into his hair "don't stop-!"

"Never" he whispers hotly against her now bare, slick skin, La Perlas somewhere down her thighs.

She bucks up to meet his mouth, and this time he doesn't deny her anything. She cries out, completely uncaring of who may hear. Her hand holds his head but he doesn't need any help. He knows her. She's all his. Her palm runs down to his back, nails sinking into his skin. All that thrums through her body is Chuck, Chuck, Chuck. It is just her and him. Chuck and Blair. Blair and Chuck.

Except.

Except where she should be feeling softness there is hardness. What should be smooth under her fingertips is sharp. Where there should be warmth there is cold. Blair's eyes snap open.

Above her Dan pulls awkwardly at the bowtie, confusion evident in his face. Blair's own fingers are still on his unbuttoned shirt, just grazing his too cool skin, as she tries to make sense of what's happening. He tosses the bowtie aside, then turns his gaze down to Blair's panties. She frowns, kicking her foot out at him slightly. He still reaches his hand out towards her.

"Uh, hey-" she starts, trying to think of how to finish this.

"Oh do you want to play some more, baby?" he says in a tone Blair can only describe as the the least sexy thing she's ever heard, and she resists the urge to kick him again.

"Cabbage" she says through gritted teeth, "Cabbage"

"Oh- sorry, sorry" he puts his hand on her face, "are you ok?"

"I-" Blair sighs, shifting pointedly away from his hand, "I just think the roleplay's not working"

Dan considers her for a moment "is it the voice? Because I can work on it if, uh, that's what you want. Or I can try an accent, maybe make it more exciting"

"Do you ever stop talking?" she huffs, before returning to placating mode, "I think that we should stop for tonight, Dan. Maybe try again another time"

"Ok" he flops down next to her, the scent of Fahrenheit thankfully still in the air, "you know, I think I could get into this. I could, uh, write us scripts. How about 'Inside Her: the untold Clair Carlyle story'. That could be fun" he grins, nudging her arm.

Blair nods distractedly, not even bothering to ask who Clair Carlyle is and why she should care "I'm sure it'll be great Dan. I need to go freshen up"

"Sure. I'll be waiting right here. Oh, did you see the MET has a Rembrandt and Degas exhibit? Maybe we could go this weekend"

"Of course" Blair says simply, shutting her bathroom door on reality for as long as she can.

That night as Dan lies in her bed, the traces of Fahrenheit long gone and once again making her sheets smell like Brooklyn, Blair sits at her desk. She flicks through her diaries, memories of a different lifetime swirling like a kaleidoscope in front of her.

-I finally tried that with Chuck tonight. I know, I always said I wasn't ready but tonight I was. I wasn't scared exactly, but I didn't know what to expect. It was amazing though, and experiencing it with Chuck was so perfect-

-food tastes so much better when you eat it off of someone. Maybe we should have a bacchanal more often-

-I can't believe that Basshole actually spanked me last night as if I didn't have a whole day of classes at NYU to sit through today. I'm so going to enjoy punishing him tonight-

-handcuffing Chuck to the bed is so much easier when he's naked first. It also turns him on so much quicker-

-Chuck really thinks he's going to last longer than me in this stupid sex fast. He's actually banished me from the Empire. Luckily, Lily just so happened to invite me to brunch today. If that motherchucker wants to play dirty then let's get dirty, Bass-

-neither of us know if the elevators in Lily's building have cameras. It's not exactly something I can ask Serena. I hope they do-

Blair shuts them, pushing the pile to one side. Without thinking she opens her current one, turning to the next page. For some reason, writing her feelings in her diary gives her a sense of deniability. As though she can claim anything she writes is simply fleeting, even when it obviously isn't. Besides, it's not as if anyone else is ever going to read it and know she's lying, she thinks, as she starts to write what she can't say, letting her heart flow out.

I miss my Vronsky. My Heathcliff. My Darcy. My Rochester. My Benedick. My Gatsby. My waiter. My student. My Parisian lover. My devil redeemed. My love. My Chuck. I thought trying roleplay with Dan would help but he's awful. He can't even quote Wuthering Heights, let alone do anything else. So much for his literary genius. Clearly drunk elevator sex is his peak. You know, I've lost count of how many times I've had sex with Chuck. Hundreds? Thousands? I couldn't even guess. I can count for Dan on one hand. I feel this pressure with him. This feeling that he thinks he's... above me. Dan Humphrey will never be that. I mean, is he going to win some kind of award for his writing? I doubt it. Even after our disastrous coming out party I still don't think anyone knows who he is, outside of about five people. I don't want to be defined by that, by whoever Dan wants me to be."When you love someone, you love the whole person, just as he or she is, and not as who you would like them to be"

Blair closes her diary, tucking it away where Dan's prying eyes won't be able to see. Tonight, although being something of a disaster, is actually the closest Dan's come to satisfying her. He was vaguely hygienic for ten minutes. That's almost as mind-blowing as an orgasm from Chuck. Almost. She'd much prefer the ectasy of a Chuck Bass given orgasm than the ecstasy of Dan Humphrey going near a bar of soap of course, but it's something.

She climbs quietly into bed. As she turns away from the distinct scent of Brooklyn ruining her sheets she allows her mind to wander, hopefully landing on a movie for her dream. In a break from the complete filmography of Audrey Hepburn maybe Wuthering Heights is more suitable for tonight. After all, she loves a dark brooding anti-hero. In fantasy and reality.

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catlady-ily · 2 years

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dear diary;

school was pretty alright!! quite sunny again which was cool :3

I had my math test today, and I think I did alright!! I’m not overly confident, but it should hopefully be enough for me to pass. one of my friends who was away for a bit didn’t realise there was a test so I handed him a spare copy of my notes (we’re allowed to bring them into the test) - lucky for him though, he was allowed to go into a different room to study as he had been away.

during period 4, we had an assembly against vaping - which, I’m going to admit, didn’t really interest me much seeing as how I don’t vape, I don’t plan on ever vaping, and the people I generally surround myself with have pretty similar views on it, but I didn’t mind getting out of english since I didn’t actually do my homework- speaking of homework, my parents got a bit mad at me because I didn’t do my math homework and they found out- whoops-

anyways, I crocheted a bit further!! realised I screwed up a little on some of the squares, but it should be ok. I used some of my thinner yarn and made myself a little bookmark, might post some pics and some point, I rlly like it!!! I’m thinking maybe I can show my gf tomorrow and if he likes it I might make her one too >w<

during sport today, last period, the funniest and most embarrassing thing happened - so for context, at some point during IT class this term, we had to decode each other’s messages, the person whose I was decoding, his was “I want to have sex with (let’s call him johnny)”. the then sent me an email with another message, which ended up deciding to “what is your opinion on the legalisation of marujana?” to which I responded to him, out loud, and very loudly for that matter “at least it’s not as bad as ‘I want to have sex with johnny’!” and johnny heard this. out of context. later, johnny emails me a link to this roblox video on his youtube channel (for the record, johnny and I have never really communicated before this). I feel bad, but I didn’t know how to respond so I left him on read. anyways, today during sport class, my friends and I were spilling tea, and I told them about this. johnny happens to be in a sport class running the same time as us, that also happened to be outside on a similar area today, doing laps of the oval. now, just my damn luck, I say the bit about “I want to have sex with johnny” very. loudly. bc I have shitty volume regulation. RIGHT AS JOHNNY IS RUNNING PAST. AND HE LOOKS AT ME. HE FRICKEN LOOKED AT ME. MY FRIEND POINTED IT OUT AND I FELL OVER LAUGHING ASJSHDKSHDJSBS I WAS SO EMBARRASSED. hoping, begging and praying that nothing bad comes of this. wish me luck-

anyways, I don’t really have anything else to talk about, so I think I’ll end it there, baii!!~

love, kitty 💕

#dear diary #diary entry #personal diary #imtryingmybest #im trying to romanticise my life idk whether or not it’s going well #girlboss

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4joonkookie · 3 years

Text

27 Candles

💜 Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

💜 Words: 3.5K

💜 Summary:

A 12 hour diary of Namjoon’s 27th birthday.

💜 Tags/Warnings:

Smut, angst, breakup, DaddyJoon, Dom/sub, Daddykink, collars, Daddy/Babygirl, birthday sex, breakup sex, makeup sex, blindfolded sex, butt play, rough sex, spanking, riding, grinding, dirty talk, back scratching, fluff, Happy Birthday to the only man I’d call Daddy, not beta read, wish I had more time.

2:30 PM

After spending hours agonizing over your approach, you call Namjoon to wish him a happy birthday. It’s been a while since you’ve heard his voice. The low rumble sends vibrations through your body.

“We should celebrate,” you insist, exposing your ulterior motive.

“What do you want to do?” he muses.

You're quiet for a while, then take a deep breath.

“It's your birthday. I want you to tell me.”

The request is bold, but subtle enough. He lets out a low laugh, a knowing one, and clears his throat.

“Yeah?” his voice lowers, probably in an area with others. “You wanna be my good girl? Be good to me?”

“Yes,” you reply, just as low though, no one is around you. “I want you to have what you want for your birthday.”

Arousal pools in your belly while you fidget with your nervous hands.

“I like that idea,” he hums. “So I'll come by the apartment when I'm done?”

“No,” you assert, disrupting your compliance. “Can I see your new place?”.

He’s had his own place for over a month now but the place you shared is still “the apartment”.

“Sure, there’s not much there. It’s basically empty,” he replies.

You assure him that's just fine. Adjusting to living in “the” apartment without him has been hard enough. A new, less familiar place might make it easier. A place not-so-lived-in.

A place he can’t leave you again.

He’s quiet for a long time again before speaking.

“Is this a good idea?” he asks, in the exhale of a heavy sigh. His tone has changed, reality settling in.

“No,” you confirm, shaking your head although you’re alone.

The line is hushed, again. The silence is heavy with all of the unspoken “I miss you”, “I need you”, “something is missing without you”.

You both know where this goes, neither having the strength to step away.

3:37 PM

When the elevators open to his apartment corridor, there is a young woman kneeling at the door. Heart pounding, you walk slowly, keeping your head down and avoid eye contact altogether when she stands and begins to walk toward you. You quickly turn your head and breathe a sigh of relief to see her disappear behind the elevator doors.

A decorative basket sits at the front doorstep. You snatch it up, enter the lock code quickly and shut the door behind you.

The basket holds a bottle of champagne on dry ice. Also, a pair of lace panties. Two fixture items, surrounded by decorative flowers, candies and a notecard.

The note is a handwritten message about missing Namjoon on his birthday and a promise of wearing the panties “next time”; a drawn heart and scribbled name.

You open the champagne, chug from the bottle and toss the rest to the trash, attempting to discard the jealousy panging in your gut.

The breakup was two months ago. You hadn’t exactly agreed to “be friends”, it just happened. Though, you haven’t seen each other in person since he moved his things out.

You take in the view of the place. It’s enormously empty. The refrigerator and cabinets are empty, a layer of dust covering the bottom of the inside. A laptop and recording equipment are the only things set up in the living room alongside a couch. The Bedroom has no walls and sits on a raised platform in the living room, a total bachelor pad. Condom wrappers lay on the bedside table near the unmade bed. The bathroom counter, cluttered with his products and potions. You pick up the bottles one by one, searching for what’s new about him. Finally, the closet. You choose a shirt and to put on and discard everything else.

Your phone buzzes, Namjoon saying he’ll be there in about an hour. It’s sooner than you thought but you order groceries anyway. It always takes longer for him to get home than he says.

“Home.” You think. This isn’t home.

4:58 PM

Surprisingly on time, he arrives carrying handfuls of delivered bags.

“You bought groceries?” He uses his foot to close the door behind him.

“Yes,” you reply, removing bags from his hands. “Why don’t you have groceries? Just hire someone to do it.”

“Why hire someone when you’re willing to do it for me?”

“I didn’t,” you banter. “I hired someone to do it.” You shrug.

You close the refrigerator behind you. His phone starts to ring, he silences it.

“Where did you get champagne?” He questions.

When you casually mention the name of the woman who signed the card, he stiffens. Checks his phone, frantic.

“You talked to her?” He remains calm, but you can tell he’s uneasy.

“Yeah, I ran into her dropping this off on my way in. She’s sweet,” you string him along, feeling a little bratty “She said she wishes she could’ve seen you on your birthday.”

He gives you a long look and you hold his gaze.

“Liar!” he laughs, approaching you. His demeanor is calming, his smile relieves something in that “something is missing” category.

“How do you know her name?” He asks curiously.

You stall, not wanting to admit your resentful gesture.

“Oh there was a note, I must’ve misplaced it,” you say, appearing (hopefully-to-be) absent-minded.

He reaches a hand to peek in the trash can. Before he can, his phone rings again. He silences it immediately.

“Is that her?” You ask, casual, distracting.

He shifts uncomfortably but is honest. “We were going to meet up today. I cancelled.”

You tilt your head. “You said you didn’t have plans.”

“I didn’t,” he says plainly.

You hide a shy smile, briefly ducking your head. “And if I hadn’t invited myself over?” you tease.

“I’d be wishing you had.” He gets closer and a familiar electricity buzzes through you. He rests his hands too comfortably on your back, pulling you in, hugging you too tight, smelling your hair.

“I missed you,” He nuzzles his cheek to yours, brushing against you. The moves are slow, requainting.

His lips press against yours and you feel yourself slipping back into him. You try to shake off the feeling, remembering what you discussed on the phone.

“So, what do you want?”

He follows along, seemingly eager to take the edge off of these heavy feelings for a while too. He guides you back to the wall.

You can feel the undertones changing. His gaze darkens, your body being enclosed in his arms.

A hand moves to your bare neck, strokes the soft skin. Your heartbeat quickens. After some back and forth, you ultimately decided not to wear the collar. Not his to claim anymore, anyway. He silently acknowledges the absence of it and moves to your waist.

“It was very rude of you to throw away my things just because you’re jealous.”

“Not jealous,” you pout, and his lips drag against your neck. He bites down at your words causing you to gasp. He pins your hands above your head, against the wall while continuing work on your neck.

“Say it,” he chides. “Tell me how jealous you are that someone else can be good for me.”

Your blood boils, thinking of the woman at the door, condoms on the nightstand.

“And how many good girls do you have?” You query, calmly.

He squeezes your wrists above you. “Say it. And I'll tell you.”

You sigh heavily and give in. “Ok, I’m jealous, you admit.

He giggles between kisses on your skin. “I know.”

“So? How many?” Not giving in to his touch yet, still wanting to know.

He shrinks the grip on your wrists to one hand and uses the other to brush a finger against your lip.

“There are many girls who are good to me but I have only one good girl.”

He releases your wrists and your lips crash together, tongues passing sloppily. You drink each other in after months apart.

“Don’t move,” he instructs, and pulls away. You stand still, watching him disappear into the bedroom. He quickly reemerges with hands behind his back.

“Turn around,” he says, before he can make it all the way back to you.

Without hesitation, you turn and place both hands on the wall, bracing yourself. You feel his presence behind you and it all goes black. A silky fabric drapes over your eyes, a knot being tied just behind your head.

You reach behind yourself to grab at him. “What are you doing?!” The sudden darkness is startling, shocking.

He wraps arms tight around your body to still you.

“Shhh….,” he soothes. This is what I want.” A hand slides beneath the hem of your panties, circling fingers at your wet center, free arm holding you tight to his chest.

He raises his fingers to your lips, offering a taste of yourself.

When you release his fingers, he loosens his grasp on your body and grips a hand at the back of your neck. You straighten up on two feet.

“Walk,” he demands.

After walking a ways, your back hits the mattress.

You can’t see him but his hands are hot on your skin, traveling in unseen paths. You can hear your breath, loud. The quiet in the room is loud.

It’s dark, but the fear begins to fade. All other senses are heightened.

There is a sense of right with his hands on your skin again, lips on yours again, his scent filling your nostrils again, feeling his weight above you again.

He drags his tongue slowly down the center of your body, between your breasts, over your navel and fastens his mouth to your center making you squirm as he sucks below, arms hooked around your thighs.

He licks lovingly, skillfully, and pulls away too soon. He pulls you up by your arms and guides you to sit up.

“Show me what a good girl you are?” he whispers above you. The whisper is crystal clear, echoing in your ears.

You nod into the darkness and hear him removing clothes. Cock free, he pushes the tip to your lips and pushes in slow, to the back of your throat, holding himself there.

“No hands,” he warns. He slides out just as slowly and you do your best to control your gags.

He pushes in again, too quickly and deep. You pull away, coughing and trapping his shaft with your hand.

“No.” he pushes your hand away. He grabs your chin, prying your jaw open and pushes in again. Drool spills and tears moisten the fabric over your eyes. He grabs the back of your head and pushes it flush against his pelvis, no room for grabby hands.

You choke and back off of it, using both hands this time to remove it. You cough when he pulls out, a string of saliva still connecting you.

It’s been a while since you've done this but somehow, it’s more difficult because you can’t see.

“Bend Over,” he growls.

You turn over and feel the familiar caress over your cheek before he moves, muscle memory. He lays a hard smack and you moan, spine lighting up. You smile gleefully to yourself. A familiar warmth overtakes you.

“You’re out of practice,” he taunts, “Need to remember how to behave.”

Another hit, and you cry out again. Spanks, all the more exciting and titillating behind a blindfold.

“You want to give Daddy what he wants, you said?” you hear his voice from behind you.

You nod, zoned in on your lack of vision.

You don’t sense the next hit coming, it’s so much more intense. You’ve been punished for not using words. Without hesitation, they come spilling out.

“Yes, Daddy.”

This.

This was definitely missing. Not so much that you need to be punished but that you want to be tamed.

And no one does it like him.

He slides two fingers into you from behind. You moan and buck back, bouncing on his fingers.

He leans down to lap you, licking up from your pussy and his fingers up to your ass, prodding his tongue inside the tight muscle.

He moves away and you hear the click of a bottle. Cold lube spills over your exposed skin.

Two fingers still in your pussy, He gruffly pushes a third to your bum, pouring more lube with a free hand. He pushes to the webbing of his hand and holds it, giving you time to adjust.

“Good girl loves being filled up, huh?”

You nod before catching yourself. “Yes, Daddy.”

He adds a second finger inside, two in each opening now, scissoring and stretching you open.

You sob, everything feeling that much more intense and full in the dark.

He pulls his fingers out of your body with a lewd pop.

“Are you ready to try again?.”

“Yes.” Something clicks in your mind and has your body assuming the previous position.

The shock of the sensory change and overwhelming emotion before had you too frantic, unable to focus.

Now, bridled in just the right way, he pushes into your throat with no objections from your body, only eager acceptance.

He begins thrusting at the back of your throat. You relax your jaw and control your gags. The darkness isn’t so startling anymore. It helps you focus on controlling your muscles, a meditation almost. You grip the sheets to keep your hands away.

He pulls out and you try to even your desperate breath, swallowing pooled saliva.

He tests your compliance, pushing to the back again, using two hands to hold your head down, letting your face slide off silently.

“There she is,” he strokes your hair as you wipe your mouth. “There’s my good girl.”

The praise fuels you, feeling pleased and settled.

He turns you over again and slides inside right away, slapping hips against you. You whimper and move your body with his.

You nearly ascend when he pushes his index finger into your stretched ass while still thrusting inside.

His cock thrusts against your g spot and presses against his finger behind your walls.The repeated pressure on both sides makes your knees shake. The sound you make is almost primal, body falling limp, spiraling through an orgasm.

He frees his hands and pushes your shoulders flat to the bed to slam inside. You lay, boneless as he grunts and growls through his own orgasm.

Falling beside you, he removes the blindfold and gestures for you to lay on his chest.

He pets and strokes the places he’s left marks. He slides his thumb along your worked jaw.

You didn’t realize how badly you’ve missed this feeling of safe, being claimed again.

8:09 PM

Limbs draped together laying on the bed, Namjoon carries on about his most recent lyric-writing.

Words, spilling out a mile a minute, eyes focused outward, trying to find a lyrical solution by talking aloud.

You study him, just as you always had. The same ,familiar motions and conversation but a different background.

It’s unmistakable.

It’s not any particular location that’s “lived-in”. This place echoes with empty and still smells of fresh paint.

It’s the relationship, the vibes. You and Namjoon are lived-in.

His voice, his touch. You know it’s everything you need but know it won’t last. You broke up for a reason, a dark cloud lingering over your temporary reconnection.

You try not to think of it, letting this temporary elation carry you both to the point where you must eventually take stock of what’s happening and acknowledge that you’re worse together, no matter how good it feels right now.

Despite your silent spiral, he continues talking, unbothered. You watch him, endeared, absorbing every morsel of himself he has to offer before you part again.

Eventually, he catches himself. “Sorry, should I stop?”

You climb on top of him and snag the nearby blindfold. You playfully spread it over his mouth and a giggle erupts from underneath. You slide it up to his eyes, mimicking your position from earlier. He inhales sharply and smiles.

You take his earlobe into your mouth and suck marks to his collarbone, not caring of the consequences. He doesn’t stop you, hissing and grabbing at your hair.

You relish In taking him like this, the breakup, giving you freedom to reciprocate this notion and him, the freedom to surrender to it.

You lean down and graze your teeth over his nipples, a secret sensitive spot.

He gasps and lets out a whimper. It was beautiful. You chase it again, sucking and blowing cold air over them.

Still naked, you grasp the shaft and wrap your pussy over him, eyes rolling back at the pleasing friction.

You slide up and down, chasing the high.

He’s moaning in a way you’ve never heard, the intensity of not having vision.

Still above him, you plant a foot on the ground and slide his length inside of yourself.

Your hips move above him, slowly at first. You watch him, every pant and bead of sweat dripping. You get to see him in a way you couldn’t if he could see you back.

Soon, it feels too good, dick rocking right on your spot, fast and deep. He moves his hips faster below you, a signal to speed up.

You rock back and forth, squirming and squelching on his cock, feeling a little freer that he can’t see you, but only feel you so intensely.

He sinks and drags fingernails down your back with a hiss and a moan. He keeps his nails buried in your skin and holds your hips down.

“Fuck,” he pants as you pull the blindfold loose to see him come.

His hands grab yours and you use your laced hands to brace yourself, squeezing fingers tight when you both come.

It feels like an official reuniting, coming together again. Having more even ground this time, just experiencing this together.

Now, all is right again. Doubt, drowned just a bit longer.

11:51 PM

You’re in a marathon of a conversation, catching up on the last few months.

You laugh and talk and joke, just like old times. He grabs you by the waist.

He kisses you. Long and full of expectation.

“Just remind me why.” He exhales and pushes his forehead to yours.

“No, Joonie, we can’t do this_” You feel thorns grow on your skin and try to push away.

He doesn’t remember yet. This is a beaten path. As much as you missed the four walls you shared, by the end of it all, it was suffocating. Walls, closing in.

“Please,” he pleads. “Because i’m looking at you and we’re here talking and kissing and fucking, perfect as it always was and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why we’re not together.”

You shake your head as tears burn at your eyelids.

“No, Namjoon, we cannot have this fight again…” you try to free yourself again. There’s so much more to it all than sex and conversation.

“Who’s fighting?”

“You know why we’re not together,” you argue. It was bad for a long time. We fought and fought_…”

“Maybe we didn’t try hard enough,” he interrupts.

You look at him, shake your head.

“I did.” Tears falling freely now. “We can’t see each other anymore. It’s not fair. Not to either one of us.

You laugh to yourself. “We both knew it was a bad idea. We knew we’d end up right back here.”

“And where is that?” he asks, soft tears spilling from his sharp eyes.

You don’t answer. Just offer a weak smile as you quickly dress.

“Happy Birthday.”

And just like that, it’s all over, 2 strokes to midnight.

12:13 AM

You turn on the lights to “the” empty apartment and intentionally don’t look around. Any progress you had made at making the place feel like just yours are back at square one.

Your body is heavy with regret, can’t believe you let yourself drown in him again.

You crawl under the covers and wait for it to be just not so hard, back turned away from the side of the bed that feels so devastatingly empty.

2:30 AM

You stir awake from a noise at the door. The knock sounds again, waking you completely.

You sleepily drag yourself to the door.

There he stands, eyes swollen, looking lost and vulnerable.

You stare at each other in the doorway, unable to tell if there are a million unsaid things being spoken or just emotions spilling sloppily around with no rhyme or reason.

The same electricity fires inside. Even though you can’t remember what you said when you left.

The only thing you can remember right now is how right it is that he’s here. And how wrong it was when he was gone, and how empty his side of the bed is.

You extend your hand out, inviting him in. He looks for a long time and finally accepts. You shut the door behind him, locking you both back into those four walls.

#bts smut #namjoon x y/n #namjoon smut #namjoon thirst #bts oneshot #bts drabble #namjoon one shot #namjoon drabble #bts imagines #namjoon x reader #bts fic rec #bts fic

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c-aureus · 3 years

Text

My opinions on the relationship between Link and Zelda in BotW, and why I personally detest romantic BotW Zelink:

A strong title, I am aware. I'm aware of the risk this runs of causing a right shitstorm lol.

I'd like to preface this essay with the disclaimer that all of the following are merely my interpretations. It is completely fine if you disagree with me.

My views are not any more or less valid than anyone else's, and do not invalidate conflicting opinions.

Nevertheless, if you are an avid BotW Zelink shipper who does not wish to hear a great deal of criticism about this pairing, then I suggest you do not read this post.

If, however, you are curious to hear my opinions, then I merely request that you keep an open mind, and be respectful of everyone else's interpretation. I will admit that these interpretations are integral to my characterisations within my fanfic series.

OK, so. Firstly. I do not think that anyone can reasonably argue with the fact that Zelda treats Link AWFULLY in the earlier memories. Indeed, BotW makes a rather large point of showing just some of the ways Zelda mistreats Link.

For context, Link is appointed as Zelda's Royal Guard by her father, the King. It is, therefore, his sworn duty to protect her, and he doesn't really have any say in the matter. But I believe that he would be proud to serve his kingdom in this capacity.

Zelda, however, takes great offence to his presence. She takes out her frustration by constantly belittling and berating Link, (knowing that she will not face repercussions for her mistreatment due to their respective positions) and repeatedly trying to escape his escort, despite the fact that he is there for her safety, and despite his best efforts to be as unobtrusive as possible to her.

And then, when Link finds her, because he is devoted to his duty of protecting her, she berates him again.

For merely doing his job.

What Zelda is showing here is that she holds utter contempt for Link and his duty, and actively tries to make his job, and his life, miserable. I cannot imagine the stress Zelda's constant absconding would have on Link, given that if he fails his duty to keep her safe, it's his arse on the line. Plus the entirety of Hyrule's arse too, given Zelda's destiny that she needs to perform.

We know from Zelda's diary that Link, despite his blank facade, IS hurt by her blatantly hurtful actions, as is completely natural and normal in his circumstances.

Now, to be completely fair, I believe that Link is highly sympathetic to Zelda. He understands why she mistreats him, especially since Urbosa spells it out in her cutscene. He understands that Zelda is in an unenviable position, and that she is taking out her frustration and anger for not being able to live up to her destiny on him.

However, despite this understanding and sympathy, that does not mean that the hurt Zelda has caused him vanishes.

He has an explanation for her behaviour. But it is NOT an excuse.

So anyway. Zelda's behaviour continues until the Gerudo desert. Remember that Zelda fled from Link's protection (again) to go to the Gerudo Town, where Link is not allowed to set foot as a male. After he tracks her down to Vah Naboris (in the dead of night - dude must have been walking all day across a desert to reach her), Zelda's first reaction when she sees him is scorn. I can't imagine how hurtful that must be.

Anyway, the next morning, Zelda ditches him YET AGAIN, making her way across the desert alone.

When she is jumped by Yiga Assassins. Who come within moments of killing (or worse, capturing) her, until Link comes flying out of nowhere to save her.

(On a little side note, some people think this is where Zelda fell in love with him. And really, at this point, Zelda knows nothing about him, since she'd never before given him the time of day. She, at best, has a crush on the concept of a Saviour)

Now, fair play to Zelda in that after this pivotal moment, she changes her attitude and behaviour towards Link, even admitting to her previous faults in her diary. This shows a surprising maturity that contrasts her previous childishness.

However, again, this does not make all of the hurt she caused him just vanish.

Now, over the next months, I believe that Zelda and Link became very close friends. Especially given that Zelda was so starved for relationships. And they come to know each other very well, especially with Zelda sympathising with Link's lack of choice in his own destiny, similar to herself.

However, well... even after this point, Zelda still mistreats Link.

I'm referring primarily to the Frog Cutscene.

Now, to preface this, in this instance, I do not believe that Zelda is behaving maliciously to Link intentionally. I believe that she is trying to tease him.

However, her behaviour is not ideal.

In this cutscene, Link shows extreme discomfort with Zelda's insistence that he eat the live frog. This is especially significant, given his usual stoicness. The fact that Zelda causes this reaction means that he feels extremely strongly about this issue.

However, Zelda keeps insisting and pushing him, effectively taking her teasing too far, and causing Link more discomfort. Because who would want to eat a frog? (No offence to French people).

Now, coming from my own experience of having friends take teasing too far with me, and having unfortunately done the same with other people, I can say with absolute certainty that Zelda's behaviour here is not ok. Especially given Link's very apparent discomfort here.

However, there is also another aspect here that I've never seen anyone else mention.

Namely that, despite Zelda's wishes of friendship, she holds authority over Link, as Princess of the Kingdom.

As a Knight, he is duty bound to follow Zelda's orders and instructions. And one could argue that Zelda's insistence could be viewed in the context of her 'ordering' Link to eat the frog. Of course, I do not believe that this is her intention, but, from Link's perspective, there is definitely cause for reasonable doubt.

Which forces Link into the exceedingly awkward decision of having to refuse what MIGHT be an order from the Princess.

And, especially framed in the context of Zelda's previous immature, unfair behaviour towards him, he doesn't know if his refusal might cause Zelda to get all stroppy with him. Let alone other, more significant consequences that might arise from disobeying his superior.

And I feel sorry for Zelda here, seeing that she wants to view Link as a friend (or potentially more), however she must know that they are both bound by their respective positions at this point. Her behaviour is... inappropriate, and as sorry as I feel for her, that does not change the fact that she's dumping Link in an extraordinarily awkward position, and being very unfair to him.

Because, if Link does take issue with her behaviour, what can he do to stop it? Zelda is the princess, and he has no right to tell her what she can and cannot do.

Now, that is effectively the crux of my argument, however I will also note that I interpret Link to be extremely depressed in BotW, due to how much he has lost, and how he is grieving the deaths of well... everyone he's ever known, many of whom he cannot even remember. He's grieving the death of an entire civilisation, as well as people extremely close to him.

In such circumstances, it would be natural for him to resent the fact that Zelda did not awaken her power sooner, and resent Zelda's decision to have him resurrected, even in spite of him understanding the necessity of it.

Basically, whilst I interpret Link and Zelda to be very close, I am very strongly against the idea that Link would form romantic feelings for her, due to his formative impressions of her being filled with mistreatment and abuse. Whilst I do not doubt that he forgives her, the fact remains that first impressions are important. And Link's first, second, third... (and so on) impressions of Zelda are... unfavourable.

If this happened to me, then, perhaps with a healthy dose of sympathy and understanding, I could come to forgive the one who has mistreated me so extensively, as I believe Link does for Zelda.

However, I do not think that I could ever fall in love with them.

And, whilst this was not meant to involve my interpretations about Miphlink, I will say that during the whole time Zelda was abusing and disrespecting Link, Mipha was nothing but kind, accepting, caring and devoted towards him.

As such, if the sequel explicitly puts Link and Zelda into a romantic relationship, or even just strongly implies it, I will be...

Honestly, I'll be furious. Because this would run so completely contradictory to all of my interpretations about BotW and the characters.

I pray that they write with subtlety and leave reasonable room for interpretation.

Once again, these are only my interpretations. If you wish to add your own, then feel free. I'm all for having a reasonable, respectful and informed debate on the matter. However, please remain respectful of other opinions, whatever your interpretation is.

#botw #botw2 #loz botw #botw link #botw zelda #loz breath of the wild #zelda #link #miphlink #link x mipha #mipha #urbosa #lipha #long post

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runtedfiction · 3 years

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nicer

day 1: facade @zelinkweek2021

ao3

* * *

Years later, when Link faces the castle’s crumbling walls, he thinks about the Princess.

* * *

The day King Rhoam announces this year’s Harvest Festival is also the day his subjects know they're doomed. Officially, it’s supposed to be a normal holiday. Unofficially, the language in the announcement—“the last celebration before the fight against Calamity Ganon”, “the last time the palace will be open to Castletown until the fight is over”—convinces everyone that they’re partying in the face of the apocalypse.

“They have no faith in me,” Zelda says, putting down her pen. “Ganon is brewing deep beneath the castle. Everyone knows it. Everyone knows I can’t stop it. This is their last chance to let loose before all hell breaks loose.”

Impa frowns and hands her the final page of raw Guardian data to clean. “You're too hard on yourself. You still have time.”

“I just have Mount Lanayru next week.” She focuses on the Silent Princess above her desk. It's wilting. “Do you think I’ll be wise enough? Maybe Hylia will smite me right then and there for being an idiot.”

“Princess!”

“I know, I know.”

* * *

They wrap up that afternoon’s study, an incredibly useful session in quantifying the powers of the Guardians, to get ready for the ball.

Zelda’s dress is her signature blue, but a bit more fluid and feminine than the one she normally wears. Made for dancing and a summer night.

“Collarbones,” Impa notes, and Zelda laughs. “A little off the shoulder as well! And the subtle constellation pattern in the tulle--how stunning!”

“Don’t act as if you didn’t design it.”

“Guilty.”

Impa’s dress, an even deeper blue, is similarly gorgeous. It’s long sleeved, form fitting, and silky.

“Impa, I just want to say—” Zelda pauses, looking at their reflections in the mirror. When will they ever look this nice again? “Thank you for being my friend.”

Impa' smiles. “Of course. And Princess—if I may.”

“Yes?”

“With all your talk of the world ending, of doom coming.” Her voice gets small. “Do you think it would be worth telling him?”

Zelda stiffens. She thinks of him somewhere in the castle, dressed in his best uniform, walking to find her.

She lies. “No.”

Three quiet, efficient raps sound against her door. Zelda’s heart lurches.

* * *

In the hot, overcrowded ballroom, she can’t stop wondering if he thinks she looks pretty.

There are important people here she needs to talk to: researchers from the Royal Ancient Tech Lab, religious leaders, captains of industry, and so on. She finds her father and tries to reach some common ground on the one night they aren’t preparing for Evil Incarnate. (She fails.) She should find the court poet and give him the dance he’s been writing about for the past month.

But all she wants is for Link to look at her.

He’s indeed in his best uniform. His gloves and boots are blindingly white; his collar sits high and stiff against his neck. He’s uncommonly handsome, and the uniform emphasizes it. When someone pulls him in to dance (technically he should be keeping watch, but that someone really insists), she hates the jealousy that blooms in her chest and takes the hand of the poet. When she twirls, when she makes conversation, when she curtsies--she tries to see it all from Link’s perspective, if he can even find her in the crowd.

“Princess, are you feeling alright?”

“Oh.”

The poet looks at her in the way that a puppy looks at its master. The neediness satisfies and repulses her.

“Yes,” she says, smiling quickly. “Thank you for asking. How are you?”

“Wonderful. I was sitting in the courtyard the other day and...”

It’s easy to tune him out and appear to be interested with the right amount of “mhmm” and “oh?” and eye contact. But every time he twirls her around, she tries to spot the top of a Royal Guard cap in the crowd.

She knows she’s being stupid. Even in the incredibly unlikely scenario where Link’s interested, what could they do? Given that her powers aren’t working, there’s only a sixty percent chance they’ll get through the Calamity. She thinks back to what Impa said earlier. Something about letting him know in the face of impending doom.

(Maybe it doesn’t make sense to do something that would possibly be useless, a tiny voice in the back of her head says. But on the flip side, it’s also possible that nothing will matter soon, so why not tell him?)

She scowls and lets the poet dip her far too low for common courtesy.

* * *

Link is definitely lost in the crowd now. The next song requires that they rotate between multiple partners, and she can’t spot him anywhere. There’s no way that he’d be looking at her anyway, because why would he? He’s the chosen one, kind and strong and handsome and blessed. She’s the failed reincarnation, mean and headstrong and cursed.

If (when) the world ends, it’ll be on her.

Zelda admits to herself, swaying in the arms of someone else who doesn’t matter, that because the world has an uncomfortably high probability of ending, it follows that maybe, possibly, probably it makes sense for her to say something.

A sense of urgency unfurls in the pit of her stomach. Where is he?

* * *

She tries to find him. She doesn’t know what she’d do--ask for a dance? Strike up a conversation? Maybe it's the heat getting to her, but it worries her that she's lost him. She walks the length of the ballroom and comes up with nothing.

There’s no way she could summon him, but…

She grabs a glass of water and walks out the ballroom to the nearest balcony.

Except in this very specific circumstance, it’s infuriating how easy it is for him to find her. Even when she doesn't want to be found, even when she’s actively running away (and nearly dying in the process), there he is. The knowledge that he’s almost always aware of her presence burns.

“Hello,” she says after a respectable amount of time.

He steps out behind her. Unfortunately, the moonlight’s softness makes him look angelic. “Hi.”

Zelda very rarely has no plan. She’s the one always bossing him around, deciding where they’ll go next and how they’ll get there and what they’ll do. She’s at a loss for words right now.

“Ah--hm.” A cooling night breeze passes by. “Are you--are you enjoying the festival?”

“Yes?” He looks confused. And hot, her unhelpful brain adds. Very hot. “Are you?”

“Yes. It’s quite warm inside, but I enjoy the music and the dancing.”

“The band is nice.”

She agrees and scrambles to find another conversation topic. Damn it. Still no plan. Think, think.

“Uh--” he starts the same time she asks, “Are you ready for Mount Lanayru next week?”

He nods, and she hates how she made the conversation about work. But he looks more confident now--talking about work is easier than trying to have whatever kind of conversation she had in mind. “Yeah. I read about the region and it seems relatively safe. We might see Naydra too.”

“That would be incredible,” she says. “I’d love to capture it on the Slate.”

He nods again. A silence passes (a horribly awkward one that eats at her) before she asks: “What were you going to say before I interrupted you?”

“Oh yes.” Link clears his throat, and the fact that he looks a bit nervous sends her heart pounding. Can he tell what her subconscious is trying to do? “I’ve been meaning to ask (oh God, oh God, what has he been meaning to ask)--are you avoiding me?”

She blinks. “What?”

He won’t make eye contact with her. Triforce of courage, my ass. “Are you avoiding me?”

“No?” She’s stunned. Avoiding? All she’s been doing for the past week is pining!

“But, I feel like.” He pauses to look at her briefly. Again, his nerves kick off her own. “Ever since we got back from the desert, you haven’t really talked to me.”

She needs to think. A week ago, what happened?

They were at the Kara Kara Bazaar, and she nearly died because she intentionally (stupidly) lost him. She relives the feeling of it now--the panic that came with facing certain death when she realized it wasn’t Link following her, but the Yiga, then the shock when he appeared out of thin air wielding the sword. His back, so strong and sure. His concern as he helped her get up afterwards.

How once she could process what happened, something kicked in her chest, and everything was so obvious so suddenly.

Then getting back from the desert, what did she do? She wrote a diary entry, spent a sleepless night deciding she had feelings for him that she didn’t want to name, and tried as hard as possible to conceal them. The pining was unbearable, and--oh. Looking at him made her face burn, so she turned away. She never knew what to say around him, so she chose to say nothing at all.

Perhaps she approached her yearning by offsetting it with its opposite.

They really haven’t spoken. Zelda shakes her head, and mentally kicks herself. How can someone like you back if you don’t even talk to them? “I promise, I’m not trying to avoid you.”

He furrows his brow a little. Cute. Unfair. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Ok. If you do--if you ever need more space, let me know.” He smiles a little. “I do have to follow you, but I can do it farther away or something.”

She smiles back. Please always follow me. “Thanks. No need.”

“Alright,” he says. He glances at her arms.“Do you want to go back inside? It’s a bit cold. You’re getting goosebumps.”

She didn’t even notice. An idea is forming in her mind, bright and hot and something that needs to rush out right now or she’s going to overthink it to death.

“Going back inside sounds good. When we do, would you--would you like to dance with me?”

The question leaves so quickly that she’s not too sure if he understood it. She holds her breath; she might throw up.

“Sure,” he says, and the disappointment that she expected to punch her gut doesn’t come; a flood of something wonderful washes over her instead. Sure is yes, her mind sings. “How about I find you before the last song? I’ve been doing a bad job of keeping watch.”

“Sure,” she echoes. Hopefully her excitement isn’t too obvious when she turns back and nearly runs into the ballroom.

* * *

When the band announces the last song of the night, Zelda lets go of the poet and steps back immediately.

“My Princess,” he says, and the normal repulsion she would feel turns into joy when she spots a navy blue cap making its way through the crowd. “I would be honored to have your final dance, if you would have me.”

“Another time,” she says, already turning to pick up her skirt and mosey her way through the last group of people separating her from a flash of sandy blonde hair. “Thank you though!”

She doesn’t wait for the poet’s response because the crowd is gone and Link is right in front of her, handsome and smiling slightly. Her heart is at a million miles a minute when she drops her skirt and steps forward to place her hand in his.

This isn’t like her. He must think she’s acting so strange. Either that, or it’s obvious just from looking at her what she’s thinking. It’s a frenzied array of thoughts, ranging from the obvious (handsome, handsome, smells so good?, handsome, kind eyes) and the embarrassing (The smallest, least repressed part of me has dreamed about this all week.)

The music starts and swells and she’s still dreaming. His hand on her back is firm. Thanks to the design of the dress, she can feel his glove pressing into her. She wonders if he can feel the heat of her skin.

“How are you doing?” he asks when they fall into a rhythm, and she smiles too fast, idiot, calm down.

“Great, how are you?”

“Good,” he says, and they spin. He smiles back. “Good to know you’re not avoiding me.”

“Of course not.” Stupid, you avoided him!

He dips her a perfectly appropriate amount.

She feels brave. It’s the adrenaline getting to her, because the rational part of her can’t stop (giddily) telling her that she’s dumb when she asks, “Why would you think that I'd avoid you?”

“Hm.” He looks away to consider the question. The tips of his eyelashes catch the chandelier light. “I thought that maybe last week was a bit too much.”

She thinks about how warm his hand was when he helped her get up after saving her life. “It wasn’t.”

“It’s ok if it was.”

“No, no, you’re too kind.”

Link clears his throat. “So you’re not avoiding me because I kept trying to follow you through the bazaar when you clearly didn’t want me to?”

She laughs. “No, it’s also incredibly stupid that I tried to lose you. Besides, what would’ve happened if you hadn’t?”

Link clears his throat.

She chooses to change the subject by asking an easy “What did you make for dinner tonight?” in an attempt to soak up the final minutes she has in his arms. He starts talking about mushroom risotto, and she can’t stop smiling.

* * *

At the end of the night, when he escorts her to her room, it’s late enough that silence is acceptable.

She’s decided that she needs to do something, but she doesn’t know what. A hug would be different, but too strange. I like you is simple, but too plain. Thinking about you makes my heart soft is embarrassing. I know I’ve been an incorrigible bitch but now my walls are down and I like you is too honest.

She turns around when they reach her doors.

“Tonight was fun,” she says.

He smiles. Zelda knows romance books don’t lie when her heart jumps at the sight of it. “It was.”

This is the moment. She takes a deep breath as quietly as she can. She has that nauseous feeling again. If nothing matters, tell him. Everyone knows the apocalypse is coming.

“Hey, listen,” he says right when she opens her mouth. He pauses to look at her. If she thought he looked nervous earlier when he asked her if she was avoiding him, it’s nothing compared to now. He does a visible gulp, and—

“I think I have feelings for you.”

She blinks. What?

“And I understand if you don’t feel the same way,” he continues, tense and fast, looking right at her, “especially in light of everything going on right now. But I just had to put that out there.”

What?!

She closes her eyes--what is happening right now--and when she opens them he’s still there. This isn’t a dream.

Holy fuck. “Really?”

He nods. “Really.”

“Huh,” she says. He beat her to it. “Huh.”

“Huh?”

She laughs. He beat her to it, and now all she has to do is the easiest thing in the world.

“I think I have feelings for you too,” she says. It’s so dark now she can’t see the blue of his eyes, but she can imagine it easily.

He’s surprised. “Really?”

“Really. In fact, I was meaning to tell you just now.”

“Really?”

She laughs. “Really.”

She smiles and takes his hand. He stiffens at first, then relaxes as she threads her fingers through his.

“Oh, actually, here, let me—” He lets go. Disappointment hits her briefly before she sees that he’s taking off his glove. Some of his scars are alabaster in the moonlight. He has so many.

(She wants to kiss all of them.)

His hand is warm and rough and lovely when he slips it back into hers.

“This feels nicer,” he says, and his voice is almost shy.

There are a million things she wants to say--what are we going to do if I end the world, what are we going to do if you save the world, how long have you known for, Hylia is going to smite both of us for being fools--but she settles on squeezing his hand instead. He squeezes back.

“Yes,” she agrees. Very gently, she cups his cheek with her other hand and leans in. He’s closed his eyes already. “Much nicer.”

#zelink week 2021 #zelink #zelink fanfiction

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deannaroxannewrites · 3 years

Text

Tropetember Day 5 - Accidental Confession / In Vino Veritas (Drunk Confession/Drunk Dial)

Unrequited love? Bite me

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x GN!Reader

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Rating: Teen and up

TW: Drinking/alcohol, language, vampirism/blood mentions, FWB mention

AN: Day 5 of @tropetember. Not my best work but hope you enjoy. Might rework this slightly at a later point.

A visit to the Salvatores in Mystic Falls should be pretty fun, until Damon decides to drag you to a party the Originals are throwing.

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.5k

“Damon, you cannot be serious.”

Your best friend just gives you puppy dog eyes. Bright blue and sad as can be. It’s kinda pathetic.

“Pretty please.”

You huff, knowing you won’t win this argument. You’ve known him since you were both children, through him being turned by Katherine and later Stefan turning you (long story), and then on and off in the intervening century and a half. You even had a casual friends with benefits arrangement when you were both lonely/bored. Knowing him so well, you decide to save everyone the time and give in.

“You’re paying for my outfit Damon! I can not believe you’re making me go…”

He scoops you up and spins you, making you squeal as he thanks you. Stefan, who has been observing from the couch being absolutely no help, just laughs.

“You won’t regret it. It’ll be fun and we can learn some things at the same time. We’ll be the most attractive spy duo in history.”

You just roll your eyes and go to grab your keys before stealing Damon’s wallet. If you’re going to have to face the Mikaelsons again, you weren’t doing it in something you’d worn before. And you were going to buy something expensive out of spite.

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

The entrance to the Mikaelson’s house was the same as any other house in Mystic Falls: opulent, excessive and with far too much marble. You’d take a cosy cabin over this nonsense any day.

Clinging to Damon's arm, you enter the space and, thankfully, Klaus is the only one of the family greeting guests.

“Darling, it’s been a while.” You can’t help the reactionary smile as you embrace him. He could be bat shit crazy at times, but he’d always been kind to you.

“Klaus! I’ve missed you.” Out of your eye corner, you can see Damon giving you both evil eyes. Had you accidentally on purpose forgotten to mention you knew the original family? Oops, your bad.

Klaus doesn’t let you go far, holding you at arms length to admire your new outfit. You do look stunning in it, if you do say yourself.

“Beautiful.” He leans in to whisper in your ear “My brother really doesn’t realise what he’s missing.”

You laugh him off, ignoring the implication. You knew better.

“Now boys,” you say, glancing between them, “I’ll have no part in whatever this little competition or measuring contest is, and I expect you all to leave me out of it.” They both look a little guilty as they nod. “Marvellous. If you need me, I’ll be somewhere out of the way with a glass of champagne.”

And with that you head further into the party, leaving them to bicker.

-----

"Urgh, I've missed you so much! I can't believe you left us."

You and Rebekah are both waaaay too many glasses of champagne deep at this point. You’d been there a couple of hours by now and it had only taken Rebekah 30mins to realise you were there and take you hostage. You're currently sequestered on a sofa in a corner and are both a bit sloppy.

"What do you want me to say Bekah? It's your arsehole brother's fault."

"Wait, what? What did Klaus do?"

You laugh, just a tad hysterically and fortify yourself with another sip out of your glass.

"Wrong one. Go older"

A look of understanding comes across her face and she wraps an arm around you. You, sadly, don't have enough of your wits about you to realise that this isn't the best place for a drunken heart to heart.

Everything starts to spill out of you. How you and Elijah had spent so much time together. How you thought he liked you back, only for him to turn up with what's her name wrapped around him. How he'd laughed when you'd expressed your surprise that he was dating, and how it made you feel like nothing. It was too much for your heart to handle. So you’d left, had a fun rebound weekend with Damon and tried to move on.

Rebekah pulls back slightly, wiping a tear that had escaped without your permission.

"You're too good for him anyway," she says and you laugh.

"I wish that were true.” You pull yourself together a little and put on your best fake smile. “For now, I'm just going to don an air of indifference and pretend I'm not in love with your oldest brother."

Your mirth leaves you instantly as you hear a refined voice behind you ask, "now why on Earth would you do that?"

It’s amazing how panic can sober you up.

You turn slowly and meet the eyes of the oldest Original. He’s in a suit, as always, and has a confident smirk plastered across his face. That pisses you off.

“Cos he’s an asshole” you coolly reply before turning to Rebekah, pressing a kiss to her cheek and walking swiftly out of the room to find Damon to take you home. You’d embarrassed yourself quite enough for one night.

You’d never admit that you were disappointed that Elijah didn’t try to stop you.

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

One of the advantages to being a vampire was that you very rarely got a hangover. Instead, you just slept in a little, made a cup of coffee and did some yoga before heading out to treat yourself to lunch. You didn’t need to eat but you enjoyed the taste, there was much more variety in food than blood.

You'd only arrived in Mystic Falls a couple of days ago for your visit to see the Salvatore brothers and as such hadn't had a chance to try out the Mystic Grill. This seemed like a perfect fit opportunity. Something greasy would be perfect right about now.

The grill was a bit dingy but it worked for the place and you were happy to learn that they have a pretty good menu selection. Your excitement was soured though when Elijah decided to join you for lunch.

Dressed in yet another suit, no tie and the top buttons of his shirt undone, he oozes charm and money. Add in the handsome features and knockout smile and you were lost. You're sure back in the day the ladies with delicate constitutions had to keep their smelling salts close. You could easily have fainted over him.

But he wasn't interested in you, as he had made very clear, so you were just annoyed that he was existing in your space.

Elijah watched you eat for a few moments, clearly taking note of your reluctance to acknowledge him.

"For someone who's in love with me, you don't seem particularly happy to see me darling."

You groan quietly and lower your utensils. Wishing him away wasn't working.

"What do you want Elijah?" You sound bitter, even to your own ears. So much for attempting to sound neutral.

"One of my favourite people, who I haven't seen for a long time, has reappeared and I want to spend time with them. Is that too much to ask?"

You start eating again, using it to buy time. You had honestly missed his company. You just weren’t sure if you could bear him breaking your heart again, even accidentally and unintentionally. Luckily, he had more to say.

“Klaus told me off after you left, you know?”

You look at him in surprise.

“Told me that I’d wasted my best opportunity at happiness. Which is especially concerning considering who it was coming from.”

You nod your agreement. Klaus wasn’t exactly known for his sentimentality.

He continues, “would you believe that I really thought you were too good for me? That I really thought you weren’t interested?”

“Elijah, you can not be serious.” You pull a face at him. “I literally spent all of my time with you, hanging on your every word. I would have followed you to the ends of the Earth. How could you not have known?”

“I just thought you were being your usual effervescent self. I started dating again to try and let you go.”

Miscommunication. You shake your head. 30 years of heartbreak all because of miscommunication. God, you could bang the pair of your heads together. It’s basically a crappy romance novel. Ok, this is ok. You can fix this. You have pretty much forever left, after all.

Taking the initiative, you lean forward and grasp Elijah’s hand. His eyes fall to where you wrap your fingers around his. A hopeful look takes over his face as he returns to your eyes.

“Elijah?” You smile. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

He laughs. It’s a beautiful sound. You’re going to make it your personal mission to make him do it more often.

Lifting your knuckles to his lips, he places a gentle kiss on them.

“I can think of nothing else I’d rather do.”

#tropetember #fanfiction #the vampire diaries #the originals #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x you #miscommunication #tw: alcohol #unbeta'd #slightly rushed #in vino veritas

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holykillercake · 3 years

Text

Strawberry and Cigarretes

pairing: Sanji x Reader

word count: 2.6k

highlight: ¨Everything hurt, and for the first time, you wished to forget what the ocean sounded like.¨

warnings: slight angst

notes: This was a request from @vemuabhi! <3 Very special because it was my first ever request! I wanted to doge the obvious path (which I almost took) and do something that didn´t involve Whole Cake Island, so maybe it is not the biggest angst (hats off to Mr. Oda cause he is Father angst) but I did my very best! I hope you all enjoy and Happy Birthday, Sanji-kun! <3

𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤, 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤, 𝕠𝕣 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤!

Do you remember when you were a kid, and you´d find a shell laying on the sand? And you would pick it up and put it on your ear, hoping to listen to the ocean? It´d always make a smile grow on your face before you tossed it aside and jumped into the water.

That time was different. When you heard the ocean share its endless secrets and tell its adventurous stories, you just wanted to sit there all day and listen.

This specific event happened a couple of months after you joined the Strawhats. Chopper had borrowed you his stethoscope cause you thought it was cool, and in the middle of thousands of things you´ve already heard in your life, good and bad, the heartbeat was something that you were oblivious to.

Some would think that asking to hear someone else´s heartbeat was weird, but inside the Thousand Sunny... well, those guys put ¨weird¨ on another level, and you would have to work your ass off to surpass that.

Chopper got all blushed when you leaned closer to his tiny and furry torso, Usopp told you stories about a war he once won but had to have his heart replaced by a lion´s, Franky said that if you wanted to see a heart he could simply pull it out for you, Brook invested on the same ¨Oh, I don´t have a heart. Yohohoho¨ joke, Zoro let you listen to his wrist, Nami and Robin almost had you sinking into their generous breasts, and Sanji... you left him for last because you didn´t know how to ask him. So you just tiptoed quietly inside the kitchen, sneaked behind him, and tried to listen to his heart through his back. You feared that your nose would start bleeding if he faced you while you were doing it.

That was exactly what he did, by the way. He poured more water into the stew he was cooking and turned around, putting out his cigarette so ashes wouldn´t fall on you. Immediately you began to sweat, your breath quickened, and hold the stethoscope with a steady hand became a herculean task.

His lean fingers moved to the collar of his blue shirt and started to unbutton a few, enough for you to have better access. At that point, you believed that the reason why you weren´t bleeding yet was that you were slowly having a stroke, and Sanji´s action was God´s gift to you for being a good person while alive.

Then he didn´t do anything else, just put both hands in his pockets and waited while you listened to every single bubble popping inside his chest like you were afraid to miss one. In the end, he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and went back to his stew.

But that was all about it. The following months were just like any other, the crew kept acting as weird as their minds allowed, and you kept shutting whatever your stupid heart was yelling at you. Although... if you could be honest for one moment, deep down you were hurt.

Maybe you scared or crept him away with your childish curiosity. Maybe he had noticed your feelings for him and got disgusted. Well, not disgusted, he probably didn´t like you the same way and didn´t know how to tell you, so keeping words to a minimum was his way to go.

He stopped singing and twirling around you, he´d rather call your name respectfully; when you shared the night watches, he just remained quiet by your side, answering briefly to your questions or comments; he even stopped trying to sneak into your baths or make suggestive comments - which you didn´t love before, but you know, you only miss something when it's gone.

The whole crew had noticed the change in both of your behaviors, but they too were not sure how to address it. Whenever someone asked something about it you would say ¨Really? I didn´t notice anything.¨. Either too proud to confront him or too afraid of the truth.

¨Oi, you ok?¨ Zoro asked, breaking into your personal bubble of sadness.

You knew it was Zoro because you two were taking the night watch, but you didn´t expect him to show interest or concern about your upset state.

The night was chilly, so you were sitting on Sunny´s grass, arms around your knees, holding them close to your chest to keep the warmth.

¨Why do you care?¨ you answered bitterly, but he didn´t mind since he was the king of freaking Bitter Land.

¨I don´t. But I´ll go crazy if I hear you sigh one more time.¨ he sat close to you, not too close, just enough for you to listen to each other.

A chuckle left your mouth involuntarily, you never expected his grouchy temper would come in handy in times like this. Then your frowned expression came back, and you let out another sigh.

Before you realized Zoro had pushed you with his Sandai Kitetsu scabbard, making you fall to your side with a squeak.

¨I told you.¨

You sat again, taking some grass off your leg ¨Yeah. Can´t deny it.¨

¨Yeah, you´ve been doing that a lot lately.¨

He didn´t look like he was teasing you, his eyes focusing on the line where the sky met the ocean, where the stars disappeared and became blurry white brushes on the water.

¨I... I don´t-¨

¨I think you can do better than the stupid cook.¨he kept his usual tone ¨ But I guess we don´t get to choose these things.¨

You were taken aback by his words, and despite you trying to fight your lips from trembling and tears from falling, it was useless. You had been crushing these feelings inside you for too long, and it killed you the more you ignored it.

The swordsman wasn´t saying those things because he loved you or anything like that, but because the entire crew - except for Luffy - had already noticed and began acting weird about it. And despite being the captain´s duty to solve any problem or an uncomfortable situation, your captain was a bit too oblivious, so he had to step in.

Besides, his nakama was getting hurt. He didn´t care about the ero cook.

¨If you want me to beat him up... just let me know.¨

He said it to cheer you up - not that he didn´t mean, he´d do it for much less - but nothing seemed worth smiling for now. You just bit your lip in order to avoid an embarrassing whining, since you were unable to stop the painful tears from rolling down your cheeks.

Everything hurt, and for the first time, you wished to forget what the ocean sounded like.

¨W-What should I do?¨

¨That´s not my problem to solve, Y/N.¨ he stood up beside you ¨But sometimes, when I have a difficult problem that I can´t solve my way...¨ his gaze still locked with the horizon ¨... I think about what my captain would do.¨ he left without any further words, leaving you not only sad but confused as well.

You slept on it for the next couple of days, still not understanding what he meant. Maybe he just wanted to leave the conversation and said whatever came to mind. But even that didn´t fit right. If he didn´t want to be stuck in an uncomfortable conversation, he wouldn´t have started one.

So you took as a personal mission to observe your captain until you learned how to think like him, hoping that figuring that out would solve your problem.

You had joined the crew as a historian, the person responsible for writing down every adventure meticulously, every tiny detail of every battle, and every glorious victory along the Strawhats journey. So in one dusk, when you were in charge of the night watch with Robin and the moon was full and bright, you took your journals and began rolling through the pages, looking for a pattern, something that anticipated every major decision of your captain.

You even borrowed old diaries from the time you were not part of their crew. The stories lacked details, but they served to paint a picture. Basically:

Luffy insults an ugly lady, saves a kid, eats something, finds Zoro, beats the crap out of a crazy marine, saves the day, gets his first crewmate.

Luffy gets eaten by a bird, then vomited in a town, finds Nami, eats something, is put in a cage, beat the crap out of some pirates, saves the day.

Luffy wants a new ship, meets Usopp, eats something, gets thrown from a cliff, beats the crap out of some pirates, saves the day, gets Going Merry and a liar.

Luffy wants a cook, explodes a restaurant, becomes a waiter, eats something, meets Sanji, beats the crap out of some pirates, saves the day, gets a cook.

Luffy eats something, finds the fishmen, goes for a walk, is thrown in the water, beats the crap out of some pirates, saves the day, gets a navigator.

Luffy wants a doctor, eats everything, fights some crazy ass bunnies, climbs a mountain, meets Chopper, beats the crap out of some pirates, saves the day, gets a doctor.

Luffy eats something, wants to fix Going Merry, meets Franky, loses Robin, beats the crap out of some world government agents, saves the day, gets an archeologist, a shipwright, and Thousand Sunny.

Luffy hears a ghoulish singing, finds a speaking skeleton in a busted ship, has his shadow stolen, beats the crap out of some Warlord of the Sea, gets a musician.

When you finished the last journal, the weight of your body pushed you to the floor, and you laid on your back for a couple of minutes, overwhelmed by the amount of information in your head.

¨I know what to do...¨ you took a deep breath ¨... I´m gonna eat something.¨

You mumbled something to Robin, telling her that you´d be back in a few minutes, and wandered to the kitchen.

As soon as you entered the room a sweet and comforting aroma like whipped cream and strawberries invaded your senses, making your head turn to the counter immediately.

¨Y/N-chan...¨ the cook said.

You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, looked at him, and then to your feet, your fingers fidgeting as a sign of your anxious state.

¨D-Didn't know you were awake.¨ you marched to the table and helped yourself with some sugar cookies.

¨Oh... It won´t take much longer...¨ you heard his muffled voice somewhere in the back of your mind, all you could hear was the blood pumping in your ears ¨... cake because today is my birthday and I thought we...¨ your vision was focused on the cookie jar, crushing the granular biscuit with your fingertips ¨...and I...I didn´t know if-¨

¨What would Luffy do?¨ you whispered to yourself.

¨W-What?¨

¨What would Luffy do?¨

The question wasn´t for him, it was for you. You felt something growing inside your chest, like the blood that pumped in your heart was boiling and burning, giving you the strength and courage you needed.

¨I have been trying to find answers to a lot of things, you know?¨ you stood up to face the cook, palms spread on the table, ¨I ... do you hate me, Sanji?¨

He stopped what he was doing and let the knife rest on the cutting board. When his gaze found yours, there was no way back. That is what Luffy would do. He´d eat something, do whatever came to his mind, and deal with the consequences. No need to go back.

¨Y/N-chan... why do you...¨

¨I mean, I ask this because...¨ you clenched your hands, cursing yourself for feeling the need to cry ¨I can´t take this anymore, Sanji! If I did something to offend you or if I said something...¨ your voice was broken and weak, and you were a mess of tears and sobs ¨You don´t have to love me back, that´s not what I am saying, but... I can´t stand-¨

¨Y/N-chan... why do you think I hate you?¨ he wiped his hands with a towel and made his way towards you, slowly.

¨Oh, come on, Sanji... You treat me differently, you´re cold and distant, you don´t say a word to me even when we share night shifts! If you don´t hate me, then this must be a sick game you´re playing.¨ your legs felt wobbly, and you sat back in the chair, not being able to face him anymore. The courage and strenght you had minutes ago was gone.

You just watched him get closer and kneel in front of you, his cold fingers gently brushing away the hot tears on your cheeks.

¨I could never hate you, Y/N.¨ he said softly ¨I am sorry I made you feel like this, I am sorry I made you cry...¨ his fingers touched your trembling lips.

¨Then why...¨

¨I didn´t want to scare you away like I always do, Y/N... I know I can be too much sometimes, with the nose bleeding and everything. But that´s how I am, and I didn´t want you to think of me as an idiot... so I prefer being silent, then say something stupid and... ¨

¨You don´t have to say this. I don´t need pity talk...¨you spoke as more tears fell, giving him a chance to take his statement back.

¨I have to, Y/N. But not because of pity talk.¨ he gently pressed his forehead against yours, like bunnies do when they apologize.

¨Then why?¨

¨Because I love you, Y/N.¨ the blonde closed the space left between the two of you, kissing you passionately.

He helped you get up without breaking the kiss and leaned you against the kitchen table, his hands holding your body close while yours ran through his golden hair. His mouth tasted like strawberries and cigarettes, a flavor to which you could easily get addicted.

You parted the kiss just enough to get some oxygen, your noses were touching, and you could feel his heavy breathing against your skin.

¨I didn´t know today is your birthday...¨ you whispered, afraid that this was a dream and you´d wake up alone again.

¨Yeah, I was hoping to get a Happy Birthday from you, you know.¨ he chuckled.

¨I think you´ll be getting more than that.¨

You stared into each other´s eyes for a moment before he pulled you to a hug. When you leaned against his warm chest you heard it again, the same babble of the ocean, only this time you smiled, knowing that it wanted to listen to your stories and secrets as well.

¨Sanji?¨

¨Hm?¨

¨Happy Birthday... I love you.¨

¨I love you too, Y/N.¨ he kissed you again.

¨Please, don´t have sex on the dinner table.¨ you jumped when Robin spoke.

When you turned, you saw all your crewmates dressed in pajamas and messy hair staring back at you with sparkly sleepy eyes. You spot Zoro back in the crowd, you smiled and gave him a silent ¨Thank you.¨. You couldn´t help but wonder how the guy who manages to gets lost walking down a straight path was able to guide some sense into you.

In any way, you´ve found it. Inside of his chest, inside of his heart was the All Blue you heard so much of. Maybe that was the thing with it, and why only a few people found it. Everyone assumes that it is a place, where the four Blues meet, but it´s easy to forget that when you´re a pirate the ocean becomes the essence of who you are.

Little did you know that Sanji had found his All Blue too.

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

Note

Hiiii! I absolutely love your writing. Could you do an imagine based off of your pregnancy one shot? Since H is incredibly private, would the couple be able to hide her pregnancy from the public and then announce it similar to like Kylie Jenner’s video diary of the whole experience? Thanks!!

A/N: Ok I was OBSESSED with this request, but for some reason I found it very difficult to write, so I’m so sorry if it’s shit. Hope you like it <3

Word Count: 2,698

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

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CLICK HERE TO READ OTHER COMPLETED STORIES

Friendly reminder to please like and/or reblog. It helps more than you think :)

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

Is Forever Enough?

From the moment Harry found out he and Y/N were expecting their first child, he knew he wanted to document everything. He had been in the habit of capturing moments throughout their relationship, mainly of big events, but from this moment on, he wanted to capture it all. Little clips of every doctor’s appointment, every craving his wife had, every heartbeat, and every little kick. He wanted video documentation of the life growing inside his wife’s belly and everything that happened during that time. They had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was finally here, he wanted to make sure they would never forget a single second of it. From telling their closest friends and family members, designing the nursery, their tiny baby shower, attended by the select few that were lucky enough to know their secret.

At first, keeping silent was a way to protect themselves in case Y/N’s pregnancy didn’t stick like their fertility doctor had warned them was a possibility. It took them nearly two years to conceive, and the thought of going through a miscarriage in front of millions of watchful eyes was terrifying. But by the time they became aware that they weren’t going to miscarry, they had gone so long without announcing it that there wasn’t a point to do it. Why ruin something that was so well hidden?

The decision not to announce their pregnancy to the public wasn’t a hard decision to make. Harry was private, anyway, and everyone knew that. He was rarely on social media and didn’t talk about his private life to many people, and those who he did talk to were very loyal and trusting. They just wanted to enjoy being pregnant without the prying eyes of strangers and it was fairly easy keeping it under wraps considering how private they were, to begin with.

The timing of Y/N’s pregnancy helped, too. The early part of her pregnancy was during the summer, so they could enjoy tropical holidays together without worrying about being seen because she simply wasn’t showing yet. But, towards the end, it got harder to conceal, like during award season in the fall when an oversized shirt or puffy dress couldn’t conceal the roundness of her bump and plumpness of her cheeks and lips. It was the first award season she hadn’t accompanied Harry to in years and people began to get suspicious.

That’s when the rumors of her possible pregnancy started. Of course, no one could prove anything. But that, along with the lack of sightings of Y/N was enough proof for some. Luckily, nothing more came of it other than whispers. Harry had stopped doing interviews when he first got wind of the rumors, so no one could catch him off guard in uncomfortable positions or having to lie to protect his wife, and he began to focus his attention back on his music, halting his pursuance of on-screen work for the time being until after their baby boy’s arrival. Instead, he was the man behind the camera.

For the most part.

There were times when certain family members or friends would pick up their camera and film some things for them, capturing little intimate moments of the parents-to-be. They even enlisted the help of Harry’s on-tour photographer, Helene Pambrun, to help film the birth of their baby. Though she focused mainly on photography, her knowledge of videography and style of filming fit exactly with what the couple wanted, and Helene was all too honored to be a part of the day.

And although the birth of their child was, albeit, a bit traumatic, they couldn’t have asked for a sweeter baby boy. Born on a frigid Friday evening on March eighteenth after twenty hours of active labor and an onslaught of chaos, Paxton Robin Styles was born, tiny, healthy, and beautiful, surrounded by family that already loved him so dearly.

The hospital staff was wonderful in keeping their attendance private, no one having a clue that they were even there. No news articles or whispers were heard of their newest addition to which they were grateful to be allowed to enjoy their first week home, getting acclimated to being new parents. They had fallen in love with him.

“Y/N!” Harry exclaimed, bouncing into the nursery on a Monday afternoon as his wife fed their son, his phone in hand, and a bright smile on his face.

Y/N looked up, surprised and slightly offended, “Don’t ever call me by my name again,” she joked, stroking their son’s cheek.

Harry laughed, “Sorry, love. But, look! It’s here!”

He held his phone in front of her face, playing the edited version of their pregnancy and birth journey in video form one of Harry’s editor friends kindly put together for them after the birth of their son. The five minute and fifty-one-second video filled with shortened clips of the last nearly ten months of their lives in becoming first-time parents. They watched it together, occasionally glancing down at their baby that had fallen asleep while eating in Y/N’s arms, in awe that this was their life.

Tears were streaming down both of their faces, and Y/N giggled, wiping her husband’s cheek with her free hand. He was an emotional being, she knew that, but she had no idea what the effect of fatherhood would be on her Harry. She couldn’t have picked a better partner to raise a child with.

“I think we should post it,” Harry said, causing Y/N’s eyes to go wide.

“Post it? Like...social media?”

Harry nodded, “Well, we can’t keep him a secret forever. People are already starting to talk. I’d rather announce it on our own terms than on someone else’s. We can still stay as private as possible, I’ve already talked to Jeffrey and my publicist about it. I just...he makes me so proud and I feel like I need to show people that.”

Y/N smiles sweetly at her husband, taking his hand that rested on the arm to the nursing chair and pulling it up to her lips, kissing it gently. “Okay. We can post it.”

Later that evening, the internet was in an uproar and their phones were blowing up like crazy, for on both of their Instagrams they posted a grey-scale picture of a name tag sticker that read “Hello, I’m: P”, captioned ‘link in bio’, where they were directed to a youtube link posted under Harry’s account.

As soon as the video began, Harry’s soft voice was heard, singing his version of ‘Lullaby’ by the Dixie Chicks in the background as unseen footage of their wedding a few years prior had fizzled into view, video of their first dance as husband and wife played while the tail end of a speech made by Harry’s mom, Anne, was heard over everything else.

“We are so incredibly grateful to have Y/N now an official part of our family and I wish you both years of love, health, and happiness….and giving me tons and tons of grandchildren,” earning laughter from the attendees, “I love you both to pieces. Congratulations.”

The video slowly changed to little snippets. Y/N running towards the beach, holding her hat tight on her head with one hand while the other was holding onto Harry’s hand that was at the bottom of the screen as the breeze whipped at Y/N’s hair and sarong, cut to a clip of the camera propped on the beach overlooking the two of them sitting in the sand, looking out into the ocean, Y/N’s head falling on Harry’s shoulder and him kissing the top of her head as the sun set.

Next was a scene during one of Harry’s tour where someone filmed Y/N at the front of the stage in a VIP area beside a few of their friends, dancing and singing along with Harry who stood in front of her, smiling and singing at her.

The next images were upsetting. When they first started trying, they recorded videos of themselves awaiting the results of their tests, hoping to capture the moment they found out on film. One after another, the video showed negative test upon negative test, wanting to document the struggle they faced in fertility, one of the main reasons they decided to post this video. If it helped just one person who struggled with infertility and gave them a bit of hope, they needed to show it.

They showed clips of Harry holding an emotional Y/N in his arms, her eyes filled with tears and a quivering lip as he kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. Until the next clip showed. A shaky still of a screen that read ‘Pregnant’ that panned up to show a reflection of Harry and his wife in the mirror, Y/N pulling the test up to her face with a smile while Harry looked down at his wife in pride, softly touching her flat belly.

Clips of an ultrasound showed, Y/N stomach looking more bloated than anything as the doctor slid the wand around on her belly, Harry filming while squeezing his wife’s hand. His voice could barely be heard over the music of the video as he cooed, “Is that it, right there? So little…”

They included a few announcements they made to family members. How they told Anne while on an end of summer family vacation with a little jewelry box that opened up to two little birds and an egg in a birds nest with a note that said ‘A little birdy told me you are going to be a Nana.’ making Anne burst into tears, hugging them. And when they told Y/N’s best friend by giving her an orange and saying, “That’s how big our baby is right now,” which caused confusion before the screaming.

Y/N had filmed mirror clips of her growing belly in the floor-length mirror that stood in the corner of their room and had gotten clips of Harry laying beside her bump, his hands rubbing her stomach, clasped on either side as he sang, or talked, or read stories.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he could be heard saying before kissing the top of her bump, looking up and past the camera to his wife, smiling lovingly.

There were images of Christmas, Gemma having caught an intimate moment between the two of them, Y/N sat in between Harry’s legs on the floor, mugs of hot chocolate in her hands and still in their Christmas Pajamas, Harry’s cheek pressed against hers as he held up a blue Gucci baby suit in front of them, smiling and gushing about how small it was.

The couple’s silhouette could be seen in the dark light sky as they stood in the middle of the field, illuminated by the New Years’ fireworks that went off in the distance, Y/N’s belly pressed against Harry’s stomach as they kissed intimately amongst their friends.

A small baby shower inside one of their London country homes was next, littered with a few familiar faces along with some that were likely family members. Harry still sang in the background as the two of them opened gifts, smiling and laughing with each other, genuine happiness and love could be seen on everyone’s faces and a few people popped onto the screen to say a few words for the unborn baby.

“You have wonderful parents,” Y/N’s parents grinned, her mom getting teary-eyed. “I can’t wait to see the person you become.”

Anne’s bright, shining smile was next, “You’re going to do amazing things. You are so loved.”

“Hi, my sweet nephew! It’s Auntie Gemma,” she grinned, waving at the camera, “I can’t wait to meet you and snuggle you! I hope you grow up to be just as kind and loving as your parents. We are so lucky to have you in our lives.”

Harry and Y/N were seen in the background, Y/N eating a slice of cake while Harry casually kissed her cheek before stealing a bite of her food, earning a smile from his pregnant wife

Video panned over their newly renovated nursery, mostly designed to be gender-neutral with little hints of outer space; moon lights, a solar system mobile hanging above the cot, with a star blanket draped over the nursing chair. Harry moved the camera to Y/N who was hanging some onesies in the nursery closet, smiling and waving at the camera.

Next, they were laying in bed. It was dark and, but a glow from a nightstand shone and Y/N’s belly was visible, round and very pregnant, a few freckles near her navel, and the faintest linea nigra could be seen running from her belly button down towards the bottom of her belly. Their voices were barely audible over the music still sung by Harry. A little ripple on her belly cast from left to right and then her belly distorted a little as their baby boy kicked and pressed against the center of her bump, making the couple laugh and Harry’s hand appeared, softly rubbing where his son’s foot would be.

It changed. They were in a hospital now, Y/N in a grey and white spotted hospital gown. The camera was propped on a table filming Y/N who sat on the edge of her bed, moving her hips from side to side as she breathed heavily, moaning, while Harry kneeled on the floor in front of her, his hands on her hips and squeezing to relieve some pressure. They were talking to each other, concern, and empathy clear on Harry’s face.

In the next clip, Y/N was laying back in her hospital bed, sucking on gas and air. Harry was filming this time, and his Anne could be seen this time, sitting on Y/N’s other side holding her daughter-in-law’s free hand. Y/N put the gas and air down, gave a thumbs-up, and smiled, “We’re having a baby today!” as her mother-in-law smiled brightly.

The footage faded to black before it flashed to Y/N looking at someone just out of view as the disembodied voice said, “Whenever you feel the urge to push, let us know. You’ll be meeting your son soon.”

It faded to black again, Harry��s singing more evident in these moments, louder, as the footage flashed back into focus. The camera was, once again, being propped up on a table. At Y/N’s head on either side stood Anne who was still holding her daughter-in-law’s hand, while Harry stood, back to the camera, mostly blocking the view of his wife as one hand stroked her hair and the other held her hand. The doctors could be heard saying, “Deep breath” before Y/N took a deep breath in, bringing her legs to her chest with the help of a few nurses that could hardly be seen, bearing down and pushing as the nurses counted and Harry said, “Great job, love. Keep going. You’re so strong.”

The screen went black. A doctor’s voice was heard saying, “One more big push.” Y/N could be heard taking a deep breath, and a little exasperated yelp before gasping from both Harry and Anne followed by the beautiful, gurgling cry of their baby. Harry’s sweet singing voice in the background of the video got louder and finally, the video came back into view of a little name card on the bassinet that read:

Name: P, Styles.

DOB: March 18th

Weight: 6 lbs 12 oz

Height: 20 inches

Time: 8:39 PM

The camera panned down to the top of a blue baby cap with a white embroidered ‘P’ in the center, moving as their son wiggled in his bassinet, the hushed reassuring whispers of his parents heard just behind the camera as little lip-smacking and coos could be heard from the baby.

The screen went blank as the song started to end and white words appeared on the screen.

“Welcome to the world, Baby P. We love you to the ends of the earth.

Love,

Mummy and Daddy”

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

Taglist:

@odetostep , @thurhomish

#Harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles blurb #harry styles dad #dad!harry #pregnant #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles smut #harry #one direction #1d

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arabian-bloodstream · 3 years

Text

Why in Angela Kang I Trust

Maybe because I've been bruised and battered by showrunners and exec producers when it comes to couples and have also been rewarded (very, very, VERY rarely -- OK, like once), that is why I'm feeling positive about Caryl with regards to the spoilers.

Lemme give a bit of my history. I've had sooooo many couples, it's not even funny. I'm beyond a couple-girl. I've been involved in Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, The Vampire Diaries, Veronica Mars, The 100, Star Wars, Buffy the Vampire Slayer fandoms (and many more). Yeah, so I've been through some ups and downs in the fandoms themselves and with the end result of the product/my couple preference.

Two of the things that these fandoms taught me were (a) critical analysis of the product taking *everything* into account and not just my couple, and (b) how to deal with spoilers to keep myself sane.

NOTE: This is how I deal. I'm not telling anyone else how to feel or deal. This is my bag and what works for me and why I'm personally totally, 100% positive about Caryl despite the recent spoilers.

In one of my fandoms, I was heartbroken by how an episode played out. It made no sense to me. I had analyzed everything, paid attention to all the road signs... how could I have been so wrong? How could she choose the other guy??! It took a few weeks, but I re-thought everything and realized that I had been so focused on analyzing MY couple that I had ignored the OTHER couple. I had ignored the other aspects of the show and that other aspect mattered. It was like a bomb went off in my head. Suddenly something so obvious was now so clear to me.

From that moment on when I analyzed the show, I analyzed every character, every aspect of it and I gotta tell you all I just about nailed every character plot point. Not the twists/turns, but the emotional, character beats? I was right as rain on those. Because here's the obvious thing, no showrunner/headwriter is ever going to write for ONE character, ONE couple. They are going to write for every single character, every single couple. And if they are good writers they aren't going to take fanfic-like shortcuts to get them where we would like them to be, they are going to dig deep and explore who they are as characters to bring them organically to where they belong.

So... The Walking Dead. Angela Kang. Daryl Dixon. Carol Peletier. Caryl. (FINALLY! Ya'll say.) Angela Kang is a GOOD showrunner/headwriter. She brought TWD back from the disaster that Scott Gimple had made of the show. Seriously, I think 3-4 seasons went by and only 2 months had passed in that time. It was mostly a slow-moving morass of nothing happening with most characters doing nothing, barely connecting. Blech! It was mostly just not good. She whipped this show into shape.

Kang also took a long look at Carol, Daryl and Caryl and realized that in order to get them where they needed to be... which was TOGETHER ROMANTICALLY, they needed a helluva lot of work because Gimple had done ABSOLUTE SHIT with them for about 4 years. They had barely a handful of scenes over that time period, had been mostly separated and both characters had been decimated in completely different ways.

Carol's grief, guilt and horrendous actions had been completely and utterly sublimated. She told no one (including Daryl) about what happened with all of the children she had lost by her hand or through she felt because of her. So what did Kang do? She used the relationship that Gimple had begun with Ezekiel to create this fairytale fantasy that Carol could escape to since she couldn't be with her Alexandria family anymore because of that grief and guilt. She gave her that respite and escape until she was ready to live with the reality of all she'd done.

And then she opened the door to that grief and guilt with Henry's death, destroying that fairytale/fantasy so that she could finally begin to heal. And that is what we are finally getting now, a healing Carol. She's not whole yet, but she's stronger and she is healing. She's no longer hiding in some fantasy, she's no longer drowning in grief. And she's with her family again. She's come home.

I'm sure just as Kang looked at Carol, she also looked at Daryl and saw how Gimple had turned him into a monosyllablic follower. So, through the last two seasons, she's been building him up as the leader who's stepping up and also... HE SPEAKS! That's really the big thing, but it's such, such a big thing.

Finally, Caryl. To begin with, Kang's first episode made it perfectly obvious that it was a Zeke/Carol/Daryl triangle. However, because it's been sooooooooooooo long and the Caryl crowd has been battered for so long and the ABC crowd is so loud and even the media doesn't immediately jump to it despite the popularity of Caryl the obviousness of it just wasn't obvious. But the way Zeke proposed to Carol to which she did not say yes, his undying declaration of love to which she did not respond in kind to the way she curled up (yes, curled up!) against Daryl to tell him about said proposal and his response, clearly not happy about it, but willing to give her the go-ahead if she was happy was so obvious. I mean, DUDE! Yeah, that was textbook triangle material with the guy proposing being the clear loser in the equation in the long run. And that was Angela Kang's first episode as showrunner!

Everything that followed--the secret visits to him, her cutting his hair, her trust in him and vice-versa--to her leaving Zeke behind in Hilltop and going with Daryl to Alexandria, yeah, all of that was clearly going to be how that "triangle" ended based on that first episode. But so many Caryl fans were heartbroken, upset, furious about the Carol/Zeke spoilers. Of course, they were. We had no idea what Kang had in store. We'd been burned and battered and used and ignored by TWD, AMC, Gimple, et al. How could we possibly know that Kang had a plan all along and that the Carol/Zeke relationship was about paying time and attention to Carol's character and establishing a subtle triangle with Daryl in which he would emerge the victor?

But that's exactly what Angela Kang did. And then in season 10 she made it clear numerous times that it--only her second as showrunner--would feature the relationship of Carol and Daryl at the heart of it. So I have a few points I want to make regarding the upcoming spoilers taking ALL of the above that I've written into account:

1. Spoilers are tricky things. You simply can not know what is what until you actually watch the episode and even see the full arc play out. When you have a good showrunner/headwriter who has a plan and knows the path planned for the characters--one who has proven they know what they're doing--wait until you see what they are actually doing before assuming the roof is falling in. At least that's my philosophy.

2. I mentioned how the obviousness of the triangle aspect set-up in Kang's first episode as showrunner was so missed and a part of that is because of the fact that there is too much ambiguity in how Caryl and Daryl see one another. Is it friendship? Is it a mother/son (pfft! So fucking ridiculous!) relationship? Is it a sibling-like relationship? Or is it romantic/sexual? (YES, IT IS!) This very well may be what answers that question. (It’s the last one. It’s definitely the last one.)

3. 10x18 is STILL a part of season 10. According to Angela Kang, the heart of season 10 is the relationship of Carol and Daryl.

Finally, there are two characters left from the first season of this ten (of eleven) season show. Carol and Daryl. There is going to be a spin-off featuring Carol and Daryl. A character that Daryl has some sort of history with when he thought he lost Carol when she was married to someone else (after he had lost Rick) is NOT going to suddenly, randomly become the ONE to come between Carol and Daryl.

It doesn’t matter that this character is coming back in the final season. Sorry, not sorry, but it just does not. Carol and Daryl are the ONE for each other. This character is just another Ezekiel, a part of their story. Angela Kang has been organically, effortlessly rebuilding Carol and Daryl, and Caryl back up from the neglect and abuse that they suffered (especially Carol and Caryl) under Scott Gimple.

This is why I trust in Angela Kang.

#twd spoilers #caryl #caryl positivity #carol x daryl #daryl x carol #carol peletier #daryl dixon #the walking dead #in angela kang I trust #angela kang

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rubyleo-vibes · 3 years

Text

✨ Evans and his morning sweets nothings ✨

- RUBY’S DIARY-

Ruby’s note:

A couple weeks ago this situation came out of my mind while I was watching some Chris interviews and something else about him which a can’t remember the half of the things I saw,hear blah, blah. about him but suddenly my head was rolling with the idea and I couldn’t get over it for a couple weeks. Warnings: +18, smut, age gap, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, mention of oral (female receiving), dirty talk, dady kink, body fluids, cum kink , and maybe fluff?

-•-•-

Since the time we met ten months ago, both going back and forth taking the first flight we find and only to expend time with each other, being nothing more than exclusives cause we’re not exactly looking for a serious relationship due our busy and demanding jobs and of course don’t forget the 16 years age gap between us (not really bothering us since the first flirt ), but acting like a real couple and not really being a real one, the way we being working on our “relationship” has been way much better than we expected.

Here I am, Wednesday early morning and getting ready for going to work and the thing is that I promised Chris that I would be doing home office during his time visiting me in the city where I currently live due my job, but a last minute call changed our plans for the day and thanks god he understood the situation.

Just like everyday since he arrived we woke up to make our morning routine but this time earlier than usual, going first to the gym at the same time that i usually go , letting Chris surprised how i was able to be an early bird when he perfectly knew that i'm not morning a person. I mentioned the night before that he didn’t need to start his day the same time as me and if he wanted to stay in bed more time I totally ge it, but like always he was the one of us in waking up first even that early morning.

At 4:45 am we arrived to the gym, pretending we came alone minding our business doing our workout and acting like if we didn't know each other when someone got closer as part of our plan in case someone would recognised him even with his face mask on and a cap, because our way to “spend time in public” was Chris checking me out every time he could and me being a shameless teaser.

Once back at my place, he stepped in the shower first while i was getting all my things ready for the day, changing the dirty sheets from the night before, now as part of the morning routine every time Chris is here, not because i like putting new and fresh sheets every morning but the messy activities we make every night along with our tiredness lazy assess and sometimes our body asking for a little more attention during the middle our sleep or in the morning before starting our day, so yes! It was necessary to replace the new ones, but don’t get me wrong i’m not complaining at all, I mean this became a reminder of the fun stuff we do and learn about from the other.

Once done with the bedding changing i let the outfit that a picked the night before in my bed and just in time when I was done with everything needed, a fresh and clean Chris walked out my bathroom greeting me with a cheeky smirk on his face while i was trying not get distracted by him walking in my room with a towel wrapped around his hip, his glorious tattooed hard chest with a few water drops rolling through his toned muscles, feeling his hand touched softly one of my arms getting my attention , his body close to mine and with a low and deep voice saying -“your turn doll”- and with that i found myself already clenching my needy walls with nothing around but with the sound of his voice.

By the time i was almost done with the final touches of my makeup, Chris whose presence was absent in my room since i finished showering, walked back to my room with two mugs on each hand and right in the moment he stepped in i saw through my vanity mirror how he closed his eyes taking a deep breath from the mix of the aroma of his perfume with my mine, his chest slightly grown before opened his blue eyes and one more time just like in the gym checked me out, losing his gaze in some specifics curves of my body, with a smirk on his face he was getting closer to me

-”here’s your tea doll”- hand me one the mugs, and while I was taking it from his hand I thanked him after I winked. He just nodded without leaving the smile on his lips and I didn’t notice but his eyes getting a bit darken when he felt my fingers brushed accidentally his hand.I took a sipt from the tea that he made for me, Chris knows that I prefer taking tea every morning instead of the common cup of coffee, so every time we are around from the other, at my place or his, never letring me down without morning favorite tea, and that kind of details was one of reasons i can’t help myself but just melting and get even more attached to him.

Instated of leaving my room he prefer to stayed right next to me, drinking his coffee quietly, facing me and leaning in the vanity table, feeling his eyes glutted on me, following every of my moves and after a couple minutes of comfortable silence he finally says- “you look beautiful today doll, you always do”- he said running his gaze over my outfit taking mental pictures of how good looks his favorite curves covered on my cream cropped cable knit sweater and the green pencil under knee skirt, my high heels allowing me almost been at the the same height than him, i smiled wide never leaving my eyes off from my reflect in the mirror fixing my low ponytail i said

-"thank you baby, you don't look bad yourself too"- and while i took my earrings to putting on, this time i turn my eyes to Chris and this time me doing the same thing he did with me before, I also took mental pictures of how hot this (my) man looks on formal clothes , with an air of Andy Barber in his outfit choice for the interview recording he was going to have later that morning.- “you really know how to wear this kind of outfits, i like what you did with the sleeves, told you it’d look great and way more relax but not too much for today’s interview, they gonna love it”- playing all the time with his shirt buttons, but he only let out a groan from his chest and closing the small gap between us that he left after brought me the tea, with one hand taking me by the small of my back pulling closer-

- doll, please… stop- he said, sounded desperate and squeezed my hip.

-what? what am I doing this time? literally nothing guapo!- I giggle for the tone he complained, trying to find his baby blue eyes with mine while I rest one of my hands resting on his chest . A deeper groan came out this time, and now both hands were placed almost under my cropped sweater, touching the edge of my skirt and little bit of my warm skin , he playfully squeezed my waist a little bit harder than before.

-Don’t play now like the innocent one here young lady. You know exactly what i’m talking about - he said finally looking in my eyes and this time i’m trying to read his gaze-

-“the second you woke up you’ve been non stop teasing me , you wore the pink tights that i love how your bum looks and you wore it on your leg day! Well played by the way , then after i showered you were looking at me with pleading eyes and just before you stepped into the shower you and your smart ass came out only wearing a pretty thong and your sweatie white top with nothing unederneath and you fucking adorable nipples casually greeting me , i bet you weren’t looking for anything isn’t? .- taking a deep breath before continuing his official greedy frustrated statement, feeling his hands pushing me even more to his body like if he was trying to make me feel him-.

-you always look amazing- he continued a little bit more relaxed but with darkened eyes- “but today… damn baby girl! you're stunning and this outfit is doing something more. And I see no panties lines or what are you wearing, missy ? oh oh plus! your sweet fragrance is driving me crazy , and all of that right in the day you need to attend an urge in your office and just leaving me here without our morning sweets nothings , waiting here long hours without even trying before at least a bit of you doll”- his hands now in my ass, squishing them harder.

I just stayed there with my heart racing , blood running faster through my entire body, feeling new beats in some places that I didn't know existed. Bitten my lip and a grin on my face, my hand placed on his chest slowly goes to his muscular shoulders and the free hand gives slight caresses to his beard, loving the feeling in my hand- “really?, I’m sorry babe, I was just doing my daily routine, I didn’t mean to get you in this state, but i’ll make it up for you once I come back from work, ok? ”- I said softly, calm and with my best innoce tone, my hand caressing his beard , brushing my fingertips every now and then through his lips while I slowly adjusted my hips feeling a pretty hard situation screaming for attention. I let out audible gasp and eyes and ears never losing a detail, pressing harder on our hips together , and shamefulness grinding his hardness covered in my needy core.

-”mmmmmhh of course you’ll have to make it up to me after work... “- i whimper when i feel he stopped moving his hips and his hands holding tight my hips to keep me steady, he chuckle at the when i was trying to get some friction- “...cause right now we have much time to worship you the way i want it doll- my skirt rolled up around my waist, his fingertips touching my burning skin,me breathing heavily waiting for more. His eyes widened and chuckled when he felt my undergarth - “oh oh oh! this is what you call panties doll?” - he said, grabbing the strips resting on my hips - “ well is a thong thou, and i don’t need an awful pantie line showing off”- i said with obvious tone - “oh sorry, a tiny thong that i can’t remember you wearing it or at least showing me before… ”- feeling his playful finger roaming my bum and hips, he leaned into my ear and feeling his hot breath in there- “also you’re lucky this is such a small peach doll and perfectly fits on this pathetic tiny piece of fabric that you were hiding away from me”- a sweet released moan came out of my mouth at the moment he cupped my cunt into his warm hand, rubbing his palm and squeezing tight.

sliding the thong to side his middle finger, he ran his finger between my lips without going further than that, my pussy began to feel slippery with the juices that could no longer resist being inside for any longer.- mmmmhh baby girl, all this for me huh?, you might be the brightest ruby, but I did not know that a gemstone could be juicy, oh it is true, I forgot that only I have the honor of making this gem in a sweet and soft little peach, so juicy and exquisite-

a small scream from my mouth came out in protest of more, his forehead was against mine - please! - I begged between gasps- “please what? Do you want me to put my fingers in and touch you? that you want? - He growled excited to see that he only nodded, giving me a short kiss full of lust - "mmm if you want, I can do that- sliding two fingers inside, he began to touching me desperately, pressing lightly on my little button making circles sore He, placing my weak legs with his caresses- "Damn, you're fucking wet ... I wish I could eat you whole, but we don't have time for that, you know I like to take my time when I taste you- without warning I take out his two shiny fingers for my sweets juices, without taking his eyes off me, he introduced his two fingers covered with my flavor to his mouth, sucking rigorously, he let out a loud moan, a loud pop when he finished tasting the nectar of a gem, a quick and agile movement, he changed places, He is facing the mirror and Chris was behind me, he pressed his hardness against my butt, I let out a moan of despair, I need him inside me stretching my warm walls.

Without removing his gaze from mine reflected in the mirror, and with his eyes full of lust, the sound of his belt rumbled in my ears and my centers got even more wet, under his closure, I bend over leaving my butt exposed for him, he grunted as he stroked my butt and squeezed it, I moaned when he spanked me a couple of times with his big hands- “I'm going to take what's mine and I want to hear those beautiful sounds you make when I'm deep inside you, did you hear me baby do? - I nodded. He felt his big and hard cock hitting when I took it out of his boxers, I felt desperate, everything was spinning and my pussy was a mess and it didn't even enter me.

I moaned loudly - "Yes baby, you feel incredibly tight, I love your little pussy, so perfect and good for me" - Chris entered me without warning, let out a pornographic moan, his cock was deep in me, he stayed still for a couple second, and then start moving uncontrollably, making us moan and beg for more.

-”oh daddy!, please make me cum, your cock feel so good”-i cried and moved my hips looking for more, Chris slapped my bum-” my baby girl so desperate for his daddy cock, so pretty and good for daddy… come on doll squeeze my cock with my sweet little pussy- his dominance turned me on even more and doing what he said- “aaaagggh, ye..yess doll, keep going, i’m gonna make us cum so hard, make a mess on daddy’s cock, give to me be a good girl a give me that slutty cum- Chris grabs my hips harder and pounded so hard and good that i was losing my battle and the dirty talk almost making come to the sweet release, i loud moan came out of me and, making a whole mess on Chris dick.

-”shit baby girl, that was so hot, i’m so close and this time you are going to carry me on that piece of fabric the entire day ok?- i without a warming i felt his cock twitching and milking him so hard, he groaned loudly and emptied himself inside me.

As a gentleman that he is, he helped me fix my clothes, my hair, makeup, but less to clean up his mess, he made me go to the office like that, I thought he would help me clean up, but no, besides being slightly late to the office He made sure I carried it in my panties .. I was so lost after that little show he wanted, Chris ended up taking me to the office, and the rest is another story.

---

Ruby’s note

sorry gems! but i need a moment, i know i could end better than that but uuuummmm i just couldn’t.

i feel fucking tingles.

Let me know what you think and show me your love.

say yes to reblog

#Chris Evans #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #cevans

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lightacademic · 4 years

Text

Study tips for people who’ve never had to study before

It recently came to my attention that there are a whole load of ~highly achieving~ students out there who’ve never had to learn to study, but suddenly being naturally gifted just doesn't work anymore. I’ve been in this exact position & came out of it ok, so here are some important things I picked up along the way/wish I knew back then.

Habits. If you build good study habits early, before things start getting intense, you’ll be well set for when the stress comes. Maybe always finish your homework before tea, or come home and study for an hour before you change into sweats. Association is helpful - if you have an established routine for something else, like getting a coffee or sports training or practicing an instrument, say you’ll always study directly before or after that. Make it work for you.

Little and often. People say this about languages but it’s the same for anything. Half an hour every day is so much more effective than 3 hours in a day, once a week, and you won't feel wiped out afterwards either. This works for long term projects as well - breaking things down into manageable chunks and doing one little bit per day is much less overwhelming than sitting down and telling yourself you’re writing your whole essay today.

Time management. Parkinson’s law is real. Set yourself a limit, say you’re going to write this essay before tea, or you’re going to do this maths for no more than 2 hours. Things will drag on and fill as much time as you allow them to, especially bigger projects, so stick to a schedule. If at all possible, aim to have bigger assignments complete at least a week before they’re due, so you have time for printer problems, formatting disasters, etc etc. This ties in with organisation, which is equally important. I don’t mean perfectly drawn schedules and bullet journals (even if thats what studyblr wants us to believe) but get a diary, I use a page per day diary but you can use a notebook, wall planner, whatever. Put deadlines and classes and exams and everything in there asap, and then day to day you can make a to-do list of smaller tasks. These should be flexible, so if something comes up or a task is unexpectedly complicated, you can adapt and just add it to the next day. Don’t set your expectations too high - its better to set out to work for 4 hours and achieve that than to say you’ll do 8, only manage 4 and feel like a failure.

Your environment is important! Your desk does not have to be all white minimalism and pastel highlighters to be a good study space, but try make it as clear as possible, well lit, and free from distractions. The bigger the better. Make sure you have everything you need within reach, including a plug for a charger, if you use a laptop. Quiet is ideal but not always possible, so make yourself a playlist of background music (or try one of mine, here.) Libraries are great, because they’re literally designed for reading in and having people working around you can be really motivating. Avoid procrastination at all costs. Leave your phone somewhere far away, turn it off, or use the forest app. And try not to work where you sleep, because that won't help with your work or your sleep (bedroom is fine, in bed is not.)

Test yourself. Repeated retrieval is the best form of learning, so if you have past papers or quizzes thats great, use them! If not, writing your own questions or getting some study buddies and writing questions for each other is a good way of studying, because it forces you to think about the material in a different way.

Teach others. It’s great if you have a friend or two to revise with, but if not, try writing presentations, talking to yourself, a pet, a plant... anyone who’ll listen. Break down concepts into simpler language, as if you were explaining it to someone younger. Use flow charts and clear diagrams, and be concise. This will not only consolidate your understanding, but you'll get some great notes out of it (and presentation practice.)

Your notes do not have to be beautiful! I love looking at these aesthetic studyblr notes as much as the next person but realistically that takes hours and calligraphy is not an efficient use of your precious time. Try to keep them as concise as possible - bullet points are good - and use no more than 3 colours per page or they’ll lose meaning. Don’t go too hard with the highlighters. Arrows and annotations and post it note additions are all excellent - don’t rewrite what you’ve already got! That is not good revision. I’m sorry. Try using a whiteboard. For short answer questions, calculations, quick diagrams - anything you’d use scrap paper for - a mini white board is great. I mean something like this which is cheap and also better for the rainforests than using a whole bunch of paper that you’re just going to throw out. I *borrowed* mine from school which I do not condone but may be an option.

Take regular breaks. A good rule of thumb is that your break should be around 25% of your study time, so if you study for an hour - 15 minutes off. Study for 8 hours - 2 hours off. And take your breaks properly - get up, leave the room if you can. Get some fresh air, even if thats just opening a window, drink some coffee water, have a snack if you need it. Try not to fuel yourself on junk food - biscuits are essential but have some fruit or nuts or something as well - they actually help your brain work and you’ll feel better for it.

Don’t compare. I know this is easier said than done, but study for yourself. Find your own method, whether that’s what everyone around you does or not. Try not to compare grades, either. A little bit of competition can be healthy, but (especially around exams) don’t listen to the people who “only did 12 hours last night.” Equally, ignore the people who say they haven't studied at all and don’t let either of them get to you. You know how hard you’re working, and who know how efficient they are?

It’s never too late. This is maybe the most important thing to take away from this. You may have weeks, even days until your final/assessment/essay, but it is not too late to start studying. I’ll make a post about how to cram later, but even though its not ideal, it can definitely be the difference between a pass and a fail or an A and an A*. So if you think you’ve left it too late - you haven’t.

Good luck, and feel free to message me if you want more tips/details/a sympathetic shoulder to cry on about how hard all this is <3

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