#worst of all- this wasn't even an important scene

[saneriddlefan67]

If you struggle with productivity I recommend turning into a writer. You'll find yourself doing every single task you have ever put aside just to pretend your draft doesn't exist.

*Me kneading dough to make some brioche bread* "This is helping the writing process of my fic so much" (SPOILER: it's not)

[tobiasdrake]

*deep breath* Okay. Here we go.

I don't think the Netflix Avatar show likes women very much. It's a great show for fans of Aang, Sokka, Zuko, and Iroh specifically. All four of those characters get a ton of great material. In fact, it's super great for Sokka stans, because the show takes him ultra-seriously and can't go five minutes without one character or another (usually a woman) praising him.

But the way it handles its female cast is troublesome.

Katara

So, all three of the main trio got some changes made to their stories. They changed Aang's story so that he wasn't running away from his responsibilities; He was just clearing his head and somehow accidentallied himself into a tsunami. Whoopsy-dooodle. Aang did nothing wrong.

They changed Sokka's story so that him being a leader of his people and a great guardian warrior is treated with complete seriousness. Multiple times, characters stop to talk about how brave and noble Sokka is for taking on such an intense responsibility, and tell him to his face what a great warrior and a wonderful leader he is. Also his misogyny is erased.

And they changed Katara's story so that she directly got her mom killed because she sucks at waterbending.

Katara tries to waterbend to attack the Fire Nation soldier but couldn't manage it, provoking the soldier to start actively searching for her and forcing her mom to fake a waterbending attack and draw his fire. They changed Katara's story so that her bad decision making fucking got her mom killed.

This is treated with the same level of severity as "Sokka was bullied by mean kids and also his dad doesn't think he's good enough to be a leader."

"I hoped Sokka would do better but not everyone is meant to have people's lives in their hands," Sokka's dad says of him.

Yeah, you're right, that's totally comparable to watching your mom get barbecued because you tried to waterbend in a situation you shouldn't have and then failed.

In fact, they give Sokka's greatest trauma more weight because it gets examined again with Yue next episode, while Katara actively getting her mom killed isn't brought up again at all. We get traumatized glimpses of it throughout the season leading up to the reveal, but after this scene in episode 5, it never comes up again.

But to be fair, Katara was a child. An event this significant would surely have motivated her, driving her to become the great waterbender she is now, right?

No! Katara sucks at waterbending and needs men who aren't even waterbenders to teach her how to waterbend. She requires instruction from Aang in episode 1 to learn how to waterbend, then from Jet in episode 3 to learn how to waterbend better.

And unlike the show, her relationship with Aang isn't a give-and-take; Katara doesn't teach Aang a single goddamn thing. He never learns to waterbend. She is a strictly a pupil throughout the whole season. Though she at least gets officially labeled a master in episode 8, so there's that.

In any case, the whole traumatic memory thing isn't even the only time she's directly compared with Sokka. Episodes 3 and 4 see Katara and Sokka bicker over whose morally dubious side character is better. Sokka likes the Mechanist and Katara likes Jet.

Ultimately, Katara is forced to eat crow when Jet turns out to be the worst, while Sokka is vindicated when the Mechanist sees the error of his ways and reforms. But not before two separate arguments where Sokka calls Katara childish and accuses her of acting like a little girl.

Arguments ultimately resolved when Katara apologizes to Sokka for not adequately respecting his very serious and ultra important role as village protector and leader. Gives him a whole speech about how great and glorious he is. And Sokka... appreciates Katara learning to respect him properly, I guess, because he never offers any similar sentiments back to her.

The show just... They need you to know how important Sokka is, okay? It's very important that you respect Sokka.

Suki

Suki suffers tremendously from that whole "Sokka's misogyny was removed" thing. Y'know, because they need something else to do with that episode. The show is deeply aware that Suki is Sokka's love interest, so they just do that right off the bat. Suki falls madly in love with him from the moment they meet, and spends the entire episode making goo-goo eyes and trying to get him to Notice Me Senpai.

They still do the "Suki Trains Sokka" stuff. But Sokka is a serious, dignified manly man worthy of the deepest respect now, so of course they don't make him wear the Kyoshi uniform. Instead, the main purpose of his training is to allow them to flirt some more. It's less martial arts training and more an excuse to grope each other and near-kiss.

Suki's just a waifu now. She still fights real good, but all of the stuff that made her relationship with Sokka interesting has been erased.

Yue

Yue, similarly, leaps straight to shipping from the word go. They write out her fiance, Hahn, by having Yue briefly meet Sokka earlier in the season. She spends one minute talking to him in the Spirit World about Spirit World lore; In that time, she falls so desperately, madly, unfathomably in love with him that she breaks off her marriage to Hahn and devotes herself to waiting for him to one day come to her.

"Never have I known such joys as that time you let me explain the spirit bear Hei Bei to you. Truly, we are destined to be together for life."

Like with Suki, they go out of their way to have Yue and Sokka already be a ship from the word 'go' so they don't have to spend time developing any kind of meaningful attraction.

They just. They really want you to know that Sokka is the manliest and most desirable man ever to walk this earth. It is very important that you understand how great he is. Women hurl themselves into his arms with zero effort whatsoever, because he's just so goddamn irresistible.

Fortunately, Hahn is super okay with this turn of events. He's the most chill guy ever, he gets along perfectly well with Sokka, and he completely supports Yue's right to dump him! In the famously misogynistic Northern Water Tribe, no less! What a swell guy. Aren't men swell?

June

June gets hit with that "rewritten as hollow waifu" stick too, but her eyes are set on Iroh. They rewrote June to be super attracted and flirty towards the man who was her unwanted sexual harasser in the source material. So that's fun.

Also, she barely does anything. Zuko hires her to find Aang, she succeeds, and then she fucks right off out of the show - But she manages to find time to express how unbelievably sexy Iroh is twice during that time.

She seriously just dropped into the show to flirt with Iroh and leave. She is unbelievably inconsequential.

Kyoshi

And then there's Kyoshi. They really want you to hate Kyoshi. She's constantly shot from below, as if looking down on Aang and the audience. Her voice takes on a demonic echoing reverb at one point as she's screaming at Aang that "THE AVATAR MUST BE A MERCILESS WARRIOR!!!"

She despises Aang, calling him a coward for running away from his responsibilities - Which, I remind you, is no longer a plot point because they unwrote that flaw from his character. So she's just a complete and utter asshole, shot from the asshole angle, yelling violently at him with asshole sound effects. They want you to despise this woman.

Azula

Awkwardly, they do not seem to want you to despise Azula.

There's a lot to be said for how Ozai treats Azula in the original show. The way the favoritism he shows her is every bit as cruel and manipulative as the unfavoritism that he shows Zuko. Ozai does not love Azula. He loves the reflection of himself he sees in her eyes, and his encouragement urges her to polish herself to ensure his reflection always shines through.

This is not that. The show instead erases the favoritism entirely. Ozai doesn't really care one way or another about either of his kids. He plays them against each other, bragging openly to Azula about how great Zuko is and unpleasably writing Azula off as weak and useless.

They've rewritten the dynamic between abusive father and his two abused kids in order to take Azula's pride away. Reimagining her from a gifted prodigy who excels at imitating the toxic behaviors of a father who doesn't truly care for her, to a put-upon overachiever tearing herself in knots to live up to the standards of her unpleasable father.

This results in a truly wild portrayal of Azula as insecure and jealous of Ozai's seemingly love for Zuko. Here, she is simply a browbeaten child constantly complaining to her friends about how mean her father is and conspiring to get one up over Daddy's Golden Child Zuko.

Which she fails at, because she backs Zhao. Zuko deftly defeats her without even realizing they're in competition.

Conclusion

The season ends well for some of these women. It ends promising that maybe we'll see Katara teaching Aang some day. It ends with Zhao bragging that Ozai just used Zuko to train Azula so maybe we'll see the more confident and misguidedly proud Azula some day. Yue becomes the moon like she's supposed to. June's still out there so maybe she'll get to do something again some day.

Katara gets to fight Pakku and lose, but she looks pretty cool. She gets to fight Zuko and lose, but she looks pretty cool. Azula learns to lightningbend because she's just so mad about Ozai's contempt for her and favoritism for Zuko, which isn't how you lightningbend.

But promises of future content fall flat when the content that exists is so underwhelming. This season made its feelings on these characters pretty evident, and it's unwise to expect better material from creators who've disappointed you with the material they already made.

The women of Netflix Avatar simply do not get to shine, outside of superficial moments like the "Women of Northern Water Tribe demand the right to fight and then fuck off and don't do anything for the entire rest of the episode" bit.

"In the midst of battle, we demand that you stop being sexist and give us permission to fight! This is a way better idea than convincing you to teach us to fight before the battle begins."

The characters of this show feel as if they've been reimagined to glorify the boys at the expense of the girls. The boys are treated with a great amount of care. They're dignified and made important movers of the plot, with their rough edges sanded off. While the girls are molded around them.

[captain-joongz]

Deserve you

Pairing: brother-in-law!Seonghwa x f!reader

Genre: smut, darker themes, it's a little angsty

Summary: Marrying into the Park family was already a curse in on itself, but the cherry on top comes when on your wedding night the clock strucks midnight and there's the wrong brother knocking on your honeymoon suite door. But being a mindless pawn in his game of revenge might not be the worst when he buys it out with pleasure beyond your comprehension.

Word count: 18.5k words

Warnings: unhealthy family dynamics, arranged/forced marriage, infidelity, Hwa is mean and manipulative, themes of revenge and resentment, humiliation and praise, very rough handling and manhandling, spanking, rough sex, blink and you might miss it choking, oral (f. rec.), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, pussy drunk hwa, unprotected sex, doggy, creampie, some breeding kink (would it even be my fic if there wasn't lol), squirting, biting and marking (another one of my staples), a tiny bit of body worship

A/N: it's only going to be 13k i said *insert clown emoji here* enjoy cause good half of this is pure porn lol, i wrote the smut scenes at like 3 am while i was ovulating and therefore i legally cannot be held responsible for anything inside. please do enjoy!! if you wanna, leave comments and reblog, i always love to see what you guys have to say! i recommend listening to lurk by the neighbourhood, that's what i was listening to while writing this

Annoyed, I looked over the decorated hall to where my groom was amusing himself with a bunch of his goons. Their boorish laughs carried through the five-star hotel’s restaurant and could be heard over the hum of conversation from all four corners of the spacious room. I watched, completely unimpressed, as they took another shot together, every other one holding a half empty bottle of some kind of liquor in their hands. Rum, whiskey, vodka, all the colours of the rainbow.

My attention was pulled away by yet another very uncaring, but still unnecessarily cordial congratulatory small-talk from some relative who I’ve either never met before, or it has been so long their face blended into all the other hundreds of people who claimed blood-relation to our family.

While pretending to listen to their sugary fake speech and distractedly shaking their hands, my eyes flitted over to the close family table. I couldn’t help the trace of cold rage and hostility that crept into my gaze as it landed on my father, who leisurely sat at the table pushing around some greens on his plate while holding an amicable conversation with Mr. Park, my so very enchanting and charming father-in-law. My mother sat expressionlessly next to him, ever the picture of a perfect wife, here or there entertaining some pointless chit-chat from Mrs. Park.

With disgust I watched these four interact with each other, the realisation that this is where I was headed as well slowly sinking in and making me sick to my stomach. I excused myself from the circle of insincere inquisitors and went to sit down at the head table, pretending to eat to gather my strength.

When four months ago it was announced to me that I would be marrying into the Park family, a shocked disbelief quickly melted into an absolute rage. Even knowing that we were a very high-profile family, generations upon generations of wealth and a steady successful conglomerate of companies keeping us near the very top of the food chain of the upper class, it would have never crossed my mind my father would actually sell me off like a milk cow.

Yes, arranged marriage was still very much a thing between these families, profit and merging of riches far more important than such a silly little thing like love, but I always made it clear to my father I didn’t agree with such practice, and I would like to choose my husband myself. There was an unspoken agreement between us that he would leave me free reign and I would decide between the sons of the families that were on our level and suitable for marriage.

And Parks were nowhere near my radar. Although there were two sons in the family, only one was eligible for marriage and he would be the sole heir of most of their father’s empire. That made him a favourite in my father’s eyes, but all the women around these circles knew to give him a wide berth. Notoriously known for his unpleasant character, spoiled behaviour and stupidness, no self-respecting woman would ever touch him with a two-foot pole.

And now I was married to him.

Of course I opposed the marriage. I cried and begged and raged, I bargained and threatened, but nothing swayed my father. He had already made a good deal and now all he had to do was threaten me that if I didn’t listen, he’d make sure I was cut off not only from the family, the family wealth, but also every respectable company in the city. No matter how many times I told him ‘anyone but the Park’, he’d never listen. Papers were signed, deal was made. I was sold. All that was left was coming to terms with the situation.

The Parks, while they kept their respectable front, were a family that rose to the level of the likes of my father very rapidly and somewhat recently. It was an open secret that most of their business happened in the illegal little dark corners hidden behind a few presentable companies, but what mattered the most was their money and influence. Even though there were a few skeletons in their closet.

Like the one that suddenly made eye contact with me from the close relatives table while I was pretending to enjoy the worst day of my life.

The eldest son of the Park family, Park Seonghwa.

Mr. Park, much like his younger son Yujun, also known as my amazing husband, was known for his unlikable character and somewhat unscrupulous ways and manners. Or lack-there-of. Before even officially meeting him at some boring dinner, I had already heard the mountains upon mountains of rumours about his womanising and misogynistic ways.

Therefore it wasn’t a great surprise when just five years ago a boy showed up on his doorstep, determined to claim a corner of his ever so elusive father’s paradise. Seonghwa was older than Yujun, but due to him being a bastard of a poor maid that once upon time was harassed by the master of the house into giving into him, even though he managed to weasel his way into Mr. Park’s graces he still wasn’t considered a good face of the empire, and so Yujun remained the main heir, with his older half-brother as his glorified henchman.

Back then, even though I wasn’t 18 yet, I was also privy to all the drama that went down with Seonghwa’s sudden appearance. Perhaps eager to please his father and buy his approval, he managed to beg a broken-down old hotel out of him and set to his path of a lonely businessman always chasing some old man’s praise.

That hotel? The same one we were sitting in today. Seonghwa proved to be a formidable force in the business sphere and managed to bring this place from the bottom of the barrel and turn it into one of the best establishments in the whole country. He has since bought a several restaurants and another hotel, skyrocketing into those same circles that looked down upon him still. Including his family. Especially since everyone knew Yujun was a useless fool that would no doubt tank his father’s business the moment he got his hands on it, which made Parks the laughingstock of the rich and the bored.

During the four months I spent tagging along with our mothers and a wedding planner, trying to put together a last-minute grandiose event for half the city, I saw a lot of him. He always hung around the Park residence or the various lounges we chose to sit and chat in (which I later realised was because he owned them). When he graciously offered to host the banquet in his hotel, I was grateful to him but held no other regard to his actions.

But there seemed to be a strange connection between us. Maybe it was that I saw the same resentment reflected in his eyes when he looked at his own father, or maybe because he seemed to be the only other self-aware person here. We never spoke much, but sometimes we would catch each other’s eyes and see the same emotion in them.

In present time, I finally managed to tear my gaze away from his intense one, seemingly trying to burn through me with a single glance. In truth, I was a bit unsettled by him. Not matter how human he tried to appear, there seemed to be a dark aura around him and sometimes this strange feeling possessed me, as if I was on the cusp of getting devoured by a dangerous beast. His eyes, while part compassionate, also held this underlying viciousness, like they were trying to bait me into trusting them. And I didn’t. The more the wedding approached, the more I saw some kind of depraved excitement in them, only heightening this unsettlement that dwelled in my bones every time I came across him.

So thus I pissed away the evening. I tried to dodge as many guests as possible, keeping the conversation short and sweet, always finding an excuse why I had to move on, while giving a wide berth to the family table lest I get entangled in whatever was going on there and steadily growing more and more irritated by my new husband’s behaviour. He was nearing a dangerous level of intoxication and we still had at least two or three hours of entertaining everyone present in front of us. Well, at least I did. Yujun seemed to be quite happy wreaking havoc with his buddies and leaving me to do all the work. That is most definitely going to be a staple of our marriage.

I sighed and reached for a fresh flute of champagne. I didn’t even like champagne, but this day was driving me fucking insane.

“Darling,” my mother’s voice startled me enough to lightly choke on the drink and attempt to hide the flute like I was a naughty schoolkid sneaking snacks, “it is getting quite late. You might want to talk with your husband about retreating for your wedding night soon.” I looked at her, sizing up her perfectly schooled elegant face, her slender frame draped in expensive designer clothes and sighed again.

“It’s only half past eight,” I argued back petulantly, “we still have time till around eleven.” No matter what, I just wanted to avoid talking to Yujun, especially when he was this wasted and surrounded by similar idiots. My mother’s expression spoke of quiet reprimand. She only looked at me like that when she wanted to tell me I should know better.

“Most people are going to start leaving around ten, you know that,” she scolded me lightly and picked an invisible piece of dirt off of her sleeve, not even directing her full attention to me, “Stop stalling and go talk to your husband.” With that she was done, already turning and walking away before I could even open my mouth.

I pursed my mouth to keep the expletives from falling all out loud enough to embarrass her for 10 years in advance. Just aimlessly standing around, I threw back the rest of the champagne in the flute, chugging it in two big gulps, before slamming it down on the table perhaps a little too hard and startling a poor waiter just trying to clean up the buffet table. Steeling myself, I looked determined back into the direction of the rowdy table, but my feet stayed stubbornly glued to the ground.

“I can go talk to him, if you want,” the mellow voice came from my left and this time it startled me enough to jump. His big dark eyes crinkled in amusement, lips curling gently in a pleased smile. Park Seonghwa annoyingly looked absolutely stunning in his fitted three-piece suit and long dark hair carefully swept in curls out of his face, a tiny half bun sitting at the back of his head.

I regarded him coldly, trying to keep my distance from a man that felt too dangerous to be this close to. I didn’t even realise he had moved to the table, had no idea how long he has been standing there watching me. Even now, he patiently waited for my answer with his eyes eagerly taking me in, causing goosebumps to erupt on my naked arms.

“I’m not sure how I feel about you discussing my wedding night with your brother,” I fired back when my brain finally jumped back online, and I no longer just stared at the tall slim man and his deceptive gentleness.

He smiled lightly, really it was just a quirk of one corner of his mouth, and shifted a little closer.

“I’ll just tell him fun’s over in an hour and a half,” Seonghwa assured me in a manner that was maybe supposed to be calming, but only made the dark pools of his eyes even deeper. I didn’t step back, even when my body was begging me to put more distance between us, and stood my ground.

“I’m not sure the fun will be over for him no matter what you say,” I sighed and threw one more angry stare towards the drunkards, “He’s already too drunk to even get home and we still have more than an hour to go.” Seonghwa sidestepped and turned, and we stood there side by side, just watching the madness unfold.

“There’s a honeymoon suite prepared for you in the hotel,” the tall man supplied dryly, “all you have to do is get him into the elevator.” I hummed but couldn’t tear my eyes away from the embarrassing displays of drunkenness that were beginning to scare away nearby tables, the guests side-eyeing the young men and moving to leave while throwing disgusted glances around, more often than not sending them towards me as well. As if I wanted a husband like that, old lady.

Suddenly there was an arm gently coiled around my shoulders. Before I could react, Seonghwa squeezed gently twice and then moved towards them with a cheeky wink.

“I’ll tell him, don’t worry,” he told me while walking backwards away from where we stood, “and once you get him into the honeymoon suite, you can just dump him there and go sleep next door.”

I didn’t react in any way, only sending him an unimpressed look and then watched as he walked briskly the rest of the way and slowly inserted himself into the mayhem of the groomsmen. Immediately his face completely shut off, putting on a fake pleasant expression, but none of the men seemed to notice. I watched as Yujun got up and drunkenly stumbled until he was half hugging Seonghwa, hanging off of him and laughing loudly. From Seonghwa’s expression I could only guess whatever the joke was, he must have been the butt of it, but he took it well, years of practiced patience taking over his body. He said something to Yujun and I could see his eyes darting to me before his face was split by the grossest sleaziest grin known to man. I couldn’t stop the full body shudder that went through me, and honestly, I didn’t even try. The groomsmen all started whistling and shouting obscenities, pouring more shots and patting Yujun on his back while he cackled like a madman. Seonghwa then proceeded to say something more which elicited even more hollering and back pats, now even to him to his incredible discomfort.

He then withdrew from the situation just as slowly and quietly as he entered it, quickly walking back towards me. I hated the pity in his eyes, genuine or not, so instead I just grabbed another flute of champagne and grumbled into it while I sipped.

“Sorry you had to witness that,” he whispered and I avoided his gaze as hard as I could, instead staring off into the distance. “Whatever,” I grumbled back, trying to shake off the disgust that once again started to crawl back into my bones and stomach, making me sick with the thought of sharing a bed with that man.

Just then Seonghwa was called over by one of the servers gesturing wildly to the bar. He gave me one last apologetic glance and then ran off to deal with whatever mess that needed his immediate attention, leaving me to stand alone next to the champagne tower like the drinking wreck that I was quickly becoming. From the corner of my eye I saw my mother’s disapproving face, signalling me to step away from the alcohol and mingle more, smile more and look happy to have my life ruined by father’s business, but I ostentatiously ignored her until she alerted father of my unbecoming behaviour.

That quickly shook me into action, and with his stare burning into my back, I disposed of the empty glass and threw myself back into the madness.

The rest of the evening was a frenzy of overwhelming sensations and passed in a blur. I must have spoken to every guest that was invited, held so much small-talk I was beginning to lose my voice. I still avoided the two tables that held all of the people I didn’t want to interact with and rather I listened to some old aunt’s rants about how the modern generation of women just don’t want to be perfect housewives anymore and how they bring dishonour on their husbands.

Before I knew it, two hours have passed and I found myself stationed at the main entrance, shaking hands and exchanging goodbyes with everyone who was leaving, and waving at people that were staying in Seonghwa’s hotel.

The man himself was suspiciously scarce throughout the last hour of the party, his tall lean figure nowhere in sight, which made me surprisingly jumpy. There was a mounting feeling in me that something would happen, anxiety rising with every minute ticking by, but I thought it to be just a by-product of this whole clusterfuck of an evening and disregarded it.

My husband was also missing, probably still thrashing the bar in the lounge one room over, not even bothering to see his guests out.

Soullessly I watched everything happen, empty smile plastered on my face as I was pushed from side to side, listened to the same four meaningless sentences come out of the hundred mouths on faces that all blended together in my mind.

After they were ushered out, there was suddenly a flutter of action around me, people all speaking over one another, one telling me to go there and other telling me to stay here. I stayed silent and waited like a puppet for someone to move me where I was supposed to be. My emotions were shutting down one after another, too overloaded by everything and too scared to face head on what was about to take place.

Woodenly I let my mother drag me to the elevator, mumbling something about not worrying about my husband, father would get him, he would be here any minute, there was no reason to stress out, just relax and wait for him, it was as easy as that, after all we were a man and a woman, it was all perfectly natural. I nodded when there was a lull in her chatter to keep her none the wiser, agreed when I heard her intonation climb in a question.

Finally, the elevator climbed all the way up, reaching the quiet floor with a long hall that had only four doors on it, two of which were honeymoon suites. I felt more confused than ever, as if even my brain completely stopped working, but fortunately (or not) my mother seemed to know where to go.

The room was spacious inside, with a beautiful view of the night city, a whole comfortable lounge that already held a tray with more champagne and some appetizers. To one side I could see a sleek bathroom and to the other through an arch was visible a king-sized bed that dominated the space.

Mother sat me down on one of the sofas and I just distantly took notice of how soft and comfortable it was before she again launched into some sort of a monologue I wasn’t interested in. I amused myself by looking out the window, already nursing another flute of champagne, which was promptly yanked out of my hands.

“Are you trying to catch up with your husband?” my mother’s angry voice cut through the fog in my mind, but I was beyond caring what she had to say.

“I certainly cannot go through it completely sober,” I noted dryly with a sarcastic flare, snatching the flute back. That earned me a glare that could split a mountain in half, but I stubbornly, and somewhat childishly, refused to look at her.

“You’ve done it before and you’ll do it again after,” she stated matter-of-factly, as if she didn’t understand where the problem was, “it’s just sex.” A wave of rage and hatred raised in me so strongly that I had to hold myself back from either screaming or bursting into tears.

“Just leave already,” I said coldly instead, still not looking at her, but watching her figure in the reflection of the window. She froze, her arms stuttering a little in the middle of a movement, and I could clearly feel the disappointment in my behaviour radiating off of her. Then she straightened out and without a word walked towards the door.

“Your husband will get here shortly; I advise you to prepare yourself and meet him not completely hammered.” Her cold words rang through the silent room and then she was gone.

I simmered in that silence for a long few minutes, working to get my emotions back in check. In the end I just gave up on resisting this. There was no way out of this anyway. With a bit of luck Yujun was already so drunk he’d just take his clothes off and pass out and then I can tell him the next day how he was just a wonderful lover, how I enjoyed our time together so much.

So, I had one last glass and then started preparing myself mentally, steeling myself and pacing nervously around the room waiting for my husband to burst drunkenly through the door any minute now. I flinched with every sound, strained my ears to hear anything moving outside those doors.

Only… it never came. After 40 minutes of waiting, Yujun was still nowhere to be seen.

I was beyond irritated, checking the time every two minutes and still expecting the shoe to drop. The longer he took to get here, the drunker he’d be and the drunker he was, the more volatile and unpredictable he’d get. The irritation quickly rose to anger, my mood fluctuating between rage and fear and panic.

Once it was longer than an hour, I was just tired. The clock struck 23:45 and I sighed, completely drained and resigned. It became clear that he wouldn’t get here. At least not now.

Sitting down on the sofa, I felt all the stress trickle out of me as I completely decompressed. There was a sudden numb calm washing over me and I just wanted to be done with it, so drained I became completely detached from the world. I rose to finally fucking change out of the gown and promptly found out that now I faced a different kind of problem.

My dress had a lacing I couldn’t reach on my own. I needed help to get out of my dress. There was no one else on this floor and my parents were long gone, choosing to return to our home instead of sleeping in a hotel. My husband was god knows where and most probably in a state where he wouldn’t be able to take off his own pants.

I crumpled into the sofa, half groaning half screaming into my hands, the frustration of the whole situation, the whole day, the whole four fucking months weighing down on me enough to force a sob out of me. And then another, and then another, until I was bawling my eyes out in an empty honeymoon suite. For long moments I laid half draped over the settee crying, just getting all of my jumbled emotions out in the only outlet I had. Why did everything just have to go absolutely wrong?

It felt like whole centuries had passed when I seemed to run out of tears and finally managed to calm down again; and I looked around the room, playing with the thought of just cutting myself out of the dress with a knife or scissors, but quickly giving up on the idea with a despaired laugh falling out of me.

Everything hurt and I was exhausted, and I wanted to go to sleep, alone preferably, so instead I went into the bathroom and tried to salvage my makeup as much as possible. Thankfully bridal makeup seemed to be invincible, and I just had to tap at some smudged corners to get them dry again.

With that I set out of the room, determined to find anyone that could help me out of the dress, even if it was just some poor busboy trying to make it through nightshift. But I didn’t make it far.

I had just made two steps into the hall when the elevator suddenly dinged, and the door opened. For ten absolutely terrifying seconds I expected my husband to be the one stepping off of it, but instead a tall slender figure elegantly made its way towards me, hair still effortlessly falling around his face as if it was paid to do it.

“What the hell are you doing here?” flew out of my mouth before any reason kicked in, my brain too fried to concern itself with proper manners. Seonghwa only blinked at me in amusement, lips quirking up. Something was different about him and my alarms started going off, but I’d already gone through so much that day I barely even realised.

“Is there a reason why you’re roaming the halls like the ghost of Christmas past?” he shot back, coming close enough to lean and tower over me. His eyes peered down on me over the bridge of his nose, suddenly looking a lot less amused and a lot colder and domineering. I stuttered over my words, clocking in the change in his demeanour once I noticed the darkness swimming in those usually expressionless orbs.

“I- I need help getting out of my dress,” I whispered, too shocked to comprehend what was happening, the truth suddenly slipping out unwittingly, “I was looking for someone… Yujun hasn’t-“

Seonghwa’s dark chuckle interrupted me, it rumbled through his chest close enough I could almost feel it. I looked up at him questioningly. His grin was suddenly mocking and it threw me for a loop. All my instincts screamed at me to back away from such clear savagery shining through in his expression, but I felt completely frozen, half mesmerised half terrified.

“Yujun wouldn’t be able to untie his own shoes right now,” he said meanly, the resentment towards his family he so often hid away now out in the open, raw in his voice like a bleeding wound.

“Do you know where he is?” I decided to ignore his heated stare that seemed to be penetrating deep into my being and instead focused on my goal – locating my husband so I could kick his ass and then avoid him for the rest of the honeymoon.

But Seonghwa only smirked and curled an arm around my shoulders, pulling us towards the suite doors, clearly steering me to follow him inside.

“First, let’s help you with that dress, sweetheart,” his deepened voice almost purred somewhere close to my ear and it sent shivers through me, some kind of dark anticipation setting into the pit of my stomach.

Alarm bells were blaring loudly through my mind, but I just stared him completely stunned and let him drag me. Man, maybe I did overdo it with the champagne.

I looked at his face and fully took in just how ethereally beautiful he really was, the big dark eyes and full sensual lips on a slender face framed by glossy dark hair, he was a vision that an artist would die for just to catch a glimpse of. A face that could unleash wars and bring down empires, break the honour of gods, taint them and seduce them into immorality. Such a man he was. And I saw in his eyes that he would.

Before I could stutter out some sort of answer, he was already pulling us inside the door and shutting it behind us, the lock clicking with a startling finality. Suddenly I found myself standing panicked in the middle of the lounge with Seonghwa circling me like a shark, watching my form and the dreadful dress with dark hungry eyes. Even though my mouth hung slightly open as I still processed the current situation, nothing could come out of it, as if he took my voice with just a single touch.

“How terrible, chaining you poor thing into such a dress,” he whispered sensually, his voice caressing my skin like raven black feathers, “it must have been tiring, having it on the whole day…” He trailed off, a second of silence stretching between us and putting me on edge. Then, I could feel his fingers lightly dancing down the exposed back of my neck, until they hit the edge of the lacing. My breath hitched, getting caught deep in my throat at the sudden contact, and I shivered, eyes fighting the urge to roll back into my skull.

I blushed at my body’s visceral reaction. Either I had to be even more drunk than I initially thought, or the desperation clouded my judgement enough to actually allow my brother-in-law’s advances. Both options were terrible and unacceptable. Still, I felt rooted to the spot, unable to even lift and arm to swat his hands away, not even to turn and scold him with a glare, nothing. It was as if I was deep under a spell, his aura pressing me into inaction and sluggishness, my brain muddled and confused but vaguely excited.

Just as I took in a deep breath to break the fog away and started gathering a sufficient effort to move from him, he abruptly stepped closer, pressing his front against my back with his arm coiling around my waist like a strangler snake. Now all he had to do was squeeze the life out of me. His lips touched lightly on my exposed shoulder, and I could feel his breaths hitting the crook of my neck, a wave of goosebumps breaking in its wake.

“You shouldn’t act like this towards your brother’s wife,” I managed to get out of my dry throat, the words no more than a breathless whisper. There was a mocking scoff next to my ear and his arms coiled even tighter before releasing me all at once. I heaved a sigh of relief, not realising yet this was only the beginning of his game. Oh, he wasn’t anywhere near done.

I was spun quickly, two dexterous hands moulding me to his liking until I was facing him again. There was a terrible grin on his face and an absolute terror set into the pit of my stomach.

“I’m just trying to help you out of an uncomfortable situation,” Seonghwa lied smoothly, the words slipping out of his lips easily with faux concern. We both knew it was utter bullshit, but I still floundered in his arms, not knowing what to say or do, how to combat his searing mocking gaze.

His hands started moving again slowly, sliding tenderly down my arms and back up and then making their way to my back. Seonghwa pressed himself closer again, now front to front with my face awkwardly angled around his shoulder. Before I knew it, his arms looped around me and started tugging at the ribbon tying the corset part together while his face slowly lowered until he was gently mouthing at my shoulder.

I gasped, hands on instinct shooting up to grab something to stabilise myself. It ended up being the lapels of his suit jacket that hung between us. The tall man chuckled darkly, and I was caught in the strange in-between of his gentle touch and mean demeanour.

I felt my knees shaking, the tension rising to a point that my body could barely handle it. A whole-body shiver wrecked through me, the path his mouth made on my skin burning and sending shocks of pleasure through my nervous system that had dangerous heat starting to rear its head in my tummy.

Slowly, leisurely, his hands worked on the ribbon until it was flowing freely from the top and the first few knots were loosened. My heart was beating inside my ribcage so hard it felt as if it was hitting against the bones, and my chest tightened enough to make breathing hard for me. The silence suddenly stretched between us tensely and I wondered if the man could hear the wild beating in my chest, if to him it maybe felt like a scared bird fluttering in the palms of his hands.

Seonghwa lifted his head enough to turn me again, enough to let me see the self-satisfied smirk, and I went easily wherever he wanted me to go. My brain was screaming at me to do something, say something, but I could barely think over the dull buzz of nerves and dark thrumming of my boiling blood. My body yearned and I lost all control over it, turning into a pliant little doll in the hands of a terrible master. The temptation was just too strong, what he offered too sweet.

Words were bubbling in my throat, catching on the swallowed sighs and getting stuck in the constricted little space as I fought for every breath, but I knew they needed to spill over. I couldn’t go down without at least a little fight.

“Where…,” I started but it came out all scratchy and barely audible, “Where is my husband?” Seonghwa’s hands froze where they were unhurriedly playing with the ribbons and loosening them a millimetre after a millimetre to turn this into a torturous progress, to show me that I would let him play me like this for hours if he so pleased. Then he snickered.

“You’re still looking for him?” he asked with his lips pressed into the skin beneath my ear, “Aren’t I enough for you?” It was said as a tease, but I felt the sharp daggers of bitterness in his voice, like he was daring me to insinuate he was beneath his brother. “Aren’t I the better choice?” came out with a chuckle a moment later. Now, that was a taunt.

“Any moment he can get here and then I’ll get fucking murdered for your misdeeds,” I hissed back venomously even though I still haven’t made a single move to get some space between us. Seonghwa laughed condescendingly at me, and I didn’t even have to see his face to know he was sneering madly at my insistence to discuss the other man with him.

“He won’t be coming anytime soon, don’t you worry your pretty head darling,” he bit out with a mean laugh, “I know my brother and he can’t resist an open bar. It was only a matter of waiting until he drank himself into a coma. He won’t disturb us until the morning, and even if he wakes up during the night he won’t know up from down.” This time it was me who froze completely while Seonghwa’s fingers resumed their journey. Some terrible realisation dawned upon me, and I felt as if the rug was swept right from underneath my feet and I was freefalling, straight into these dangerous outstretched arms.

“You were planning this the whole time,” I whispered shakily, trembling in the man’s hands but ultimately, I was helpless to his games. I already knew I was fighting a losing bet, and in the end I would surrender to him.

This time Seonghwa outright laughed at me, making embarrassment sink into my gut and I shrunk into myself. I felt his fingers dig into the fabric of the white wedding dress. In the reflection of the window I saw him, shoulders shaking and mouth open with the laugh, eyes crinkled in a depraved kind of amusement. The sound cut through the empty silent room, strangely as melodic as much as it was savage. I watched him equal part with both horror and reverence, the dark atmosphere finally sinking through my skin and penetrating deep into my soul. In that moment I realised I had just walked into the tiger’s den and there was no way out.

Seonghwa finally calmed down and his eyes found mine in the reflection of the window almost instantly; they were full of contempt and I shuddered under his gaze, humiliation spreading through me at his sneering lips.

“Finally you’re catching up, darling,” he spit that word out like it was poison, and even though it was meant to caress it felt more like a slap, making me sharply inhale, “how could I let my spoiled little brother just walk into this without a little price.”

Suddenly his hands roughly grabbed at the ribbons and pulled hard, almost tearing the corset apart in his haste to finally rid me of it. I stumbled under the force and almost wished there was a wall or a window in front of me, so I could lean on it. My own hands were shaking, as were my pupils while I tried desperately to catch up with the situation. His beautiful face looked almost ethereal with this much wrath and hatred pulling it into a savage grimace, all burning eyes and bared teeth. In this light they almost looked sharp enough to tear flesh apart with a single bite.

“There’s a little compensation to be had, don’t you think darling?” he sneered some more, hands feverishly working to rid me of the oppressive clothing.

Then he used the ribbons tightly clutched in his hands to pull me closer again and our bodies collided harshly. This time I did gasp out loudly but before I could comprehend or react, his face was pressed to mine, our cheeks smushing together lightly while our eyes met again in the window. Pure deranged madness was swimming around his blown-out pupils and he flashed me a beastly savage grin.

“How do you think our little prince would like that I defiled his lovely wife before he even had the chance to get his hands on her?”

There was a sound of tearing fabric ringing through the room and I felt the dress give way, sliding down my arms and torso. In panic I quickly caught it to stop it from pooling around my ankles. But I might have as well let it be, because shortly Seonghwa’s arms circled around my waist and trapped both my hands and the dress under his grip.

Without wasting a single second, he pushed us together as close as we could go, moulding around my back and feverishly attacking my exposed neck and shoulders. Quick scolding hot wet kisses were laid one after another and I felt his hands squeeze at my waist as he licked and bit into my skin, rapidly moving up my neck to the edge of my jawline.

My mouth hung open a little wider with every swipe of his tongue, little breathy sighs and half moans flowing out freely. I was helpless coming face to face with such devastating passion and desperation, how could I protest anything when I heard Seonghwa’s satisfied groans muffled by my skin, when I felt his hands tearing at the dress and never letting me part even a single millimetre from him.

Desire and duty warred through my body, leaving me desperate and frustrated and unable to make a single move in whichever direction. I never wanted this marriage and I already despised Yujun. If I could, I would have since long walked away from this, from my father and his stern unloving face, from my mother and her constant reprimand and propriety, and most of all from my awful disgusting husband. Seonghwa was offering me the same thing he himself sought with this. Revenge. But I respected the vows and despised cheating, and my moral side was begging me to end this at once and remain faithful to a man I barely knew, barely even liked. The result of this was my torn silence and inaction, never taking part but never stopping it.

It was so wrong, but it felt so good I couldn’t do anything except for stand there and take it from the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

The confusing mix of emotions tore through me and left me all bloody and aching like an exposed nerve. My hands clenched and unclenched, eyes flitted around the room in panic, mouth opened and squeezed shut, the words always just at the tip of my tongue but never quite making it out while my brain quickly sunk deeper and deeper into lust.

Seonghwa’s eyes found mine in the reflection once again and slowly bled into a condescending pity. He licked a long stripe along my neck, tasting the salty sweat and purring in content, eyes just slightly rolling back. The sight made me weak, made my body thrum with feelings I haven’t felt in a long time, the excited tension manifesting in the dull throbbing in my lower tummy and the tingles running through me whole. I felt myself clenching at the display, and quickly pushed my thighs together to chase after the pleasure.

“You’re all up in your head, darling,” Seonghwa whispered, spinning sweet webs to catch me in, “Stop thinking, pretty. Just turn off your brain and let the sensations wash over you. Just go with the flow.” His dark eyes flew over my figure for one last time and then he was gripping my jaw roughly and jerking my head to the side to finally feast upon me like he wished.

He kissed like he was laying a claim on me, hard and heavy, tongue prying my mouth open immediately and swallowing the aborted little sounds I couldn’t stop from slipping out. It was filthy and wet and I felt as if he tried to devour me whole. I couldn’t even reciprocate fully, only stand there and take it, weakly moving my own tongue against his but I was quickly overpowered by him in every sense. Then it stopped just as quickly as it started.

I opened my eyes, blearily blinking and trying to get my unfocused gaze back into working order. I felt like I was underwater, like thick molasses was pulling me deeper into the sweetness. Meanwhile Seonghwa looked beyond delighted, lips permanently quirked up and showcasing his sharp canines.

Quick hands spun me around again, one arm immediately securing me against him while the other went to my face, caressing it with deceptive gentleness. Slowly he ducked his head down and kissed up and down the side of my neck and my shoulder, and this time around his lips were tender and reverent, like he didn’t turn into a beast just a few moments ago. My head was spinning from his constant flip-flopping between kind and cruel, but I submitted to him every time anyway.

“He doesn’t even deserve you, darling,” his sugary whispered words carried a little sting to them, but he still trickled them like honey straight to my awaiting throat and I happily drank it all, “He can’t value you as he should… He can’t fuck you like he should.” He growled the word into my throat, hands migrating to grab at my ass and press me up against his crotch, letting me feel the hardness of his arousal.

I gasped and grabbed onto his shoulders, not even knowing whether I’m pushing him away or pulling him closer, but the result was the same. He kissed the same the second time around, plunging his tongue into my mouth and dominating it completely, not giving me a chance to do much else than sigh and moan filthily as he pried me open in every way.

The dress was slowly pulled down and I suddenly found myself exposed to his eyes, the white lacy wedding lingerie a contrast to my heated flushed skin. My first instinct was to hide myself away from him, shyness fighting to take control over me, but I stood still. Somehow to me it would have been more embarrassing if I cowered before him, so I faced his lust head on.

Seonghwa’s eyes hungrily took in every detail, every new inch of skin revealed, from the lacy top and the frilly ribbons in the middle, to the panties that barely hid anything and the wedding garter still firmly sitting on my thigh.

“God, look at you,” the man darkly groaned, eyes glued to my crotch, “You’d be wasted on such an idiot. You deserve so much more, darling, so much more.” On a whim I decided to gather some wit and push back a little, even though it might not be a great idea to provoke him right now.

I threaded my hand through his long locks and tugged hard, making him hiss loudly while his head jerked back. There way annoyance in his eyes, but even that couldn’t mask the sheer amount of arousal and lust reflected in them.

“And you think that you’re what I deserve?” I attempted to say coldly, but I couldn’t tell how successful I was at my delivery with my whole body shivering and succumbing to his touch already. His eyes narrowed and his face turned to stone, and I immediately wanted to take my taunt back. I did not feel anywhere near ready to have that kind of confrontation with him. I felt the fight drain out of me at the dangerous glint is his eyes, head instinctively ducking in shyness and submission.

Seonghwa must have sensed my surrender too, because his lips quickly turned into a cruel smirk and he laughed at me, hand going to lightly grab my throat. I waited with bated breaths, fear and anticipation bleeding together into an ugly kind of arousal, but I didn’t have it in me to feel much shame anymore.

The world suddenly spun around me and then I was crashing into the settee behind me with enough force to knock the breath out of me. I barely just gathered my wits back and Seonghwa was already kneeling in front of the sofa spreading my legs. His hands grabbed my hips and roughly manhandled me into the position he wanted, and once my legs were thrown over his shoulders, he wasted no time descending onto me.

He bit and kissed and licked his way down my inner thighs, the sensitive skin hurting and pinching with every nip, making me jerk and gasp in his hold to which he only chuckled coldly.

“Hold steady now, doll,” he said evenly, “I’m gonna eat your pussy until you’re cumming all over my face.” With that he smirked and dove in. His warning did nothing to stop my body jerking wildly the moment he licked a long bold stripe over the seat of the panties.

Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up full of dark reprimand, sending a wave of goosebumps over me. I saw his arm rise and descend quickly, just barely managing to hold my breath as it harshly collided with the skin where my thigh met my ass. The smack carried through the room, as well as my loud whimper. Embarrassingly I felt a gush of slick hit my panties at the action, but I had no time to dwell on it when Seonghwa bit mercilessly into the inner part of my thigh before sliding back to my centre.

For a few long moments he amused himself by skirting around where I truly needed him to touch and instead paid attention to the edges of the panties or lightly licked and sucked through the drenched lacy fabric. My whole body thrummed with excitement, begging to be finally touched where it needed it the most, but I was too afraid to writhe around or push him, so I just lied there and whined loudly, not even caring anymore. There wasn’t even anyone else on this floor anyway.

I was so wet and aroused, my cunt pulsing knowing he was so close to touching where I needed him, my brain completely melted and unable to comprehend anything beyond the burning consuming need as I trembled under his teasing touches and licks.

Seonghwa’s eyes bore into me, just endless swirling pools of arousal and arrogance, watching me battle my body to listen to his instructions and slowly falling apart before he even did anything. Once he had enough of the pathetic little show I put on for him, I more felt than heard his chuckle before he suddenly dove in.

The moment I felt his lips curl around my clit through the panties and suck, it felt like I could cum just from that as the relief and pleasure rushed through my veins and my hips kicked up a little. A long moan left my lips almost unwittingly and I threw my head back into the cushions hard enough to hurt even through the softness. My hands flew to his hair practically immediately and pulled hard, trying to keep him buried between my folds until the end of time.

Seonghwa didn’t seem to mind I disregarded his rule not to move, instead moaning loudly into my cunt in response and desperately mouthing and sucking at the little nub over the fabric. I felt my thighs tense with every move and Seonghwa’s hands gripped them harder to keep them still, his fingers sinking deep into the flesh until it was borderline painful, but the sensation only fuelled the madness of ecstasy that was warring through me and made everything just a tad bit sharper.

The man could only bear it for few more moments, before a frustrated noise sounded from between my legs and he was suddenly flying off of me. I instinctively pulled his hair to keep him where I wanted him and was greeted with the sight of his eyes rolling back into his skull and mouth opening on a silent moan. The display was enough to make me forget about the annoying lack of stimulation for just a few seconds, and I whined, high and long, as if trying to lure him closer.

Finally he looked at me, debauched pleasure written all over his face as his red swollen lips curled into a sensual grin, and then he quickly ripped my panties off and flung them somewhere across the room, only giving me the warning of hearing the fabric tear before the tatters curved through the air. I had barely two seconds to react and gasp before he was diving back straight for my pussy, his mouth and tongue finding my entrance almost immediately and licking and sucking all around it, spreading my wetness all over the lower part of his face.

An electric current went through me, my back arching on its own as I tensed and moaned at the sudden contact. And this time Seonghwa delivered, with all his might.

Only loud slurping sounds could be heard throughout the room as he wildly swirled his tongue around my folds, quickly gulping down everything he could gather and sucking intensely at my clit, making me jolt in his arms every time. Every once in a while he would move down for a moment, immediately sticking his tongue as deep into me as he could and fucking me with it with harsh fluid movements while his nose bumped against my most sensitive part and the loud chuffs of air, pants and moans vibrated through me and sent me higher; and then he’d rise back up only to abuse the swollen nub with rough flicks and well timed hard sucks.

I was falling apart under his ministrations quickly, almost embarrassingly so, my whole body jerking and quivering as my back curved up under the powerful euphoric bursts ravaging me inside out and the feeling of his warmth enveloping my folds made me almost crazy. The feeling only intensified when I looked down breathlessly and saw Seonghwa’s eyes, completely gone and glazed over, making him look like a helpless slave to the pleasure. I would have even felt some sense of power from it if he didn’t completely overwhelm me with the sensations, dutifully stimulating me in every way his clever mouth could think of.

He ate pussy wildly and messily, spreading my juices everywhere and nigh drowning in them, leaving me slack jawed under the onslaught of his tongue until I couldn’t even moan anymore, only tremble and gush even more right into his welcoming lips.

I felt myself clenching on him, the powerful feeling growing in intensity, building up from deep inside my core and my thighs shook over his shoulders. I knew I was a goner; I knew I was going to cum soon, and there was nothing I could do to fight it. So, I let go.

Seonghwa kept working my cunt tirelessly, swirling his tongue around my clit, licking through my folds, thrusting his tongue inside of me in slow and rough motions. And as he felt me getting closer, his own moans rose in pitch as if he was the one about to cum, mouth latched onto my entrance hungrily awaiting my release.

It only took a few more pumps and his nose pressing down hard on my clit, and the tension was snapping and suddenly I found myself cumming loudly, moan ripping out of my throat in shock at the strength of the orgasm, my whole body spasmed attempting to curl and arch with the euphoria, hands tightening impossibly in Seonghwa’s hair.

I blanked, everything turning to white and I could swear I could almost see stars as my ears rang. The whole feeling kept intensifying with Seonghwa still going, groaning into my pussy like it was the most delicious food he’s ever had.

When the high started coming off, I whined in overstimulation at his lazy strokes, for the first time trying to push him away instead of pull him closer, until he finally stopped and rested his head on one of my thighs. We both were breathing heavily and my whole body thrummed with the sweet release, while I could already see the darkness swirling back into his black irises. He smirked at me, half of his face completely smeared in my slick and glistening under the golden light of the room.

“See, wasn’t that refreshing?” he asked suddenly with voice raw and hoarse, a lot more joy seeping into it as he took in my boneless form and my unfocused eyes. I blinked through the tears and through the haze, rendered useless by the force of pleasure and yet still strangely unsatisfied. There were already swirls of new lust building up in my belly at his calculating hungry stare, and I was completely ready to give myself over to him in any way he requested, if only just to have him rain euphoria on me.

As if hearing my thoughts, the man rose suddenly, towering over me and once again looking down on me condescendingly over the top of his nose, but this time around I was considerably more distracted by the enormous tent attempting to push through his pants. He scoffed at me, watching me lust over his cock like I was nothing more but a bitch in heat, and then two of his fingers curled in a beckoning motion, luring me to him with a single gesture. And we both knew I would go.

I eagerly forced myself to sit up, taking a few seconds to try out my limbs again and see if I could even hold my weight now, but after some uncoordinated slips and bumbling around like a newborn fawn, I was able to push myself into a kneeling position on the sofa, my face exactly at the height of his crotch.

I looked up at him expectantly, already licking my lips at imagining having his length stuffed all the way down my throat. I knew he would do it to me, I knew he would push his way in harshly and fuck my throat until it was unusable, until I was crying and struggling to breathe. He would hold my head and force himself as deep as possible, disregarding me completely. It had me slicking up again, breathing quickening, the arousal building up steadily and quickly, the idea of it making my cunt clench in a silent plea to be filled up and absolutely ravaged. And by the look in Seonghwa’s eyes, I could tell that wish would soon become reality.

There was so much mockery and condescension etched into his features I would absolutely feel shame at myself the moment this ended, but while kneeling there I barely minded him clearly looking down on me, both literally and metaphorically. And he played with me a little, hand tangling itself into my hair and messing up the bun I had done for the wedding even more, pushing my head against his bulge, but not letting me mouth over it or touch it, always pulling away as soon as I moved closer. His cruel smirk reflected clearly how much fun teasing me he had, knowing he had me in this state after one orgasm without even fucking me. How truly pathetic I was.

His hard cock pushed at my cheek, and he pressed himself closer and firmer against me, slowly rocking his hips until he was dry humping my face, peering down at me filthily. I stayed docile in his hold, letting him rub himself over me, eyes trained on the way pleasure slowly broke through his mask, colouring his eyes with different kind of darkness. But he soon grew bored of this and pushed me away.

I held in the embarrassing whine at that, biting my tongue to keep myself together while he gazed at me looking like he was trying to figure how to destroy me. Which, to be honest, he absolutely was.

His thumb swiped over my lower lip quickly and then his hand migrated to my neck again, this time manhandling me a lot gentler as he pushed me around to turn and bend over to all fours, still perched on top of that sofa.

The furnishing moved and dented behind me, throwing me off balance a little, but then there was a body pressing into me, hips firmly digging into mine and a hot hard cock pushing against my weeping red cunt.

I gasped lightly and moved backwards, grinding onto the man to feel him sliding through my folds even with his pants still on, but he stopped me with a hiss, one hand going to push at my lower back and the other grabbing onto my hip.

“Stop being so impatient, doll,” Seonghwa taunted darkly, voice heavy and low with the accumulated lust, “You’ll take what I give you or I’ll have you watch as I cum all on my own.” Though even this threat sounded a little tempting, I immediately froze, only feeling my walls clenching in anticipation. I dug my fingers into the furnishing, almost even holding my breath to settle the wild desire running through me and begging me to just spear myself on his cock rules or no rules. But I held steadfast and was rewarded with his amused chuckle.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you doll?” he whispered, hands grabbing onto the meat of my hips and pulling me back against him while at the same time thrusting forward. I was so wet I slid along his pants seamlessly, leaving behind a trail of my arousal, and he parked himself home perfectly, cock pressing into my folds just flawless enough to make my brain absolutely melt.

I could feel the trembling in my hips start up again and fought against the urge to cant my hips in an attempt to finally have him fuck me. I didn’t feel strong enough to hold myself up on my arms anymore, so I slowly lowered myself until I was lying on and grabbing onto the arm of the sofa, looking straight into my own eyes in the reflection in the windows.

Seonghwa behind me was fascinatedly watching where we were pressed together while his hips resumed the gentle rocking against mine, just enough to make me feel him but not enough to give me any relief. I couldn’t hold back the whine and his eyes snapped to mine in the window, face instantly crumpling into a mean smirk.

“Such a good girl,” he repeated more teasingly this time, “only want someone to push you around a little and stuff you full, huh? Need someone to throw you down and show you your place, don’t you darling? No thoughts, just a cock drilling into you and filling you with cum, that’s what you need, huh?”

His words triggered a visceral reaction out of me; shuddering I whined loudly and finally pushed my hips against his, working them in little circles right on his erection, hoping to entice him into doing something. But I clearly underestimated just how much of a menace he could be when he wanted to.

Upon his entertained laugh I searched the window for his form again, finding him amusedly watching me pitifully attempting to get myself off on his pants, and frustration rushed through me. A growl ripped itself out of my throat and before I knew it, my mouth was running off.

“God, Seonghwa, just shut the fuck up and fuck me finally.”

Suddenly we were plunged into silence as I saw his eyes narrow at me, boring right into my soul even through the medium of the window. One of his hands pushed at the small of my back forcefully, steadying my hips and pinning them away from his, while his other finally moved to his belt and zipper. But there was a dark expression on his face, all amusement draining out of him in a second, instead now giving him a colder and domineering aura again.

“Guess I spoke too soon, huh?” he said with faux anger, hand aggressively tearing his belt off of his pants, “Did you already forget what I said about taking what I give you? Well… don’t tell me I didn’t warn you…” The last sentence had me breaking into cold sweat, both a warning and a promise sounding through his voice, throwing me into panic while my cunt slicked up even more in anticipation.

Seonghwa tore his pants open, pushing them around just enough to pull his cock out and without even giving me a chance to look, he shoved himself balls-deep inside of me knocking the wind out of me. I gasped out loudly, whole body jerking forward, and my hands grabbed onto the sofa as hard as I could to battle with the dual sensation of pleasure and fulfilment with burning pain. Tears sprung into my eyes, one sliding down my cheek and falling right into my mouth open wide on silent moan, making me taste salt.

Turns out, the dark-haired man wasn’t willing to wait on that either, as he immediately started pumping his hips into me full force, using his cock to mould my walls to fit him without giving me time to adjust. But it’s not like I complained about anything, when ecstasy I haven’t known before wracked through me and I moaned out desperately with every rough thrust, quickly feeling the pain melt into mind-numbing pleasure that had fire spreading through my every nerve.

I could already feel my body responding and we were barely a couple of thrusts in, but if the rapid throbbing of my walls and my shaking trembling hips were anything to go by, I was ready to cum within few moments. And Seonghwa felt it.

His hands readjusted their grip on my body and then he upped the pace, snapping his hips into me wildly and forcefully, almost knocking to wind out of me on every uptake and sending me crashing into the armrest. He slid in so deep and so perfectly, pressing up against my sweet spot with every move and sending me into overdrive. Every few thrusts I felt like I blacked out for a few seconds as my mind and body started shutting down to only receive the pleasure and nothing more. My face was wet, and I wasn’t sure if it was from sweat, drool or tears, but still I felt like I was sitting on the edge of some terrible breathtaking revelation, like a messiah witnessing a godly act for the first time in their miserable life.

I was literally gasping for breath and on the cusp of cumming again after barely two minutes of his rough pace, cunt so wet I made a mess everywhere and every time he pulled out my juices splattered on our bodies. I was hungrily sucking him in, clenching around the intrusion in hopes of keeping him lodged so deep inside of me it scratched something wild and primal in my brain.

There was babbling and nonsense spilling out of my lips, begging the man to never stop and whining out how good he felt stretching me out like that; cock hammering into my walls with brutish force and I knew I’d never forget the feeling of getting fucked by him, of his thickness spearing me open and the spongy tip overstimulating me from the inside.

The man behind me snickered and I peeked through my half-lidden eyes to the reflection, seeing the vision of Seonghwa ravaging me with all of his clothes still on and perfectly intact, only his pants pushed slightly down, sweat running down his forehead and his cheeks, eyes crazed and trained on the way my whole body bounced with his thrusts. His eyes screamed absolute power and rendered me defenceless against him.

He kept steadily upping the tempo until he was jackhammering into me so quickly my body was crashing down under the tidal wave of pleasure, my g-spot so fucking battered I was crying and drooling into the pillows. I was so sensitive and high-strung, experiencing a wave after a wave of nearly there orgasms, always strong enough to have me breathless but never enough to quite push me over the edge.

I wanted to plead and beg for him to make me cum, but I couldn’t even speak properly through the loud whines and moans spilling freely out of my throat, tongue completely useless and wooden, and any attempt to speak got drown out by Seonghwa’s grunts and groans anyway. So I put the matter into my own hands, quite literally.

I quickly stuck my hand down between my legs and went straight for my clit, pressing on it desperately, half expecting Seonghwa to push it away and punish me, but the man only laughed, head thrown back beautifully to showcase his neck shining with perspiration. When his head lolled back, he was grinning brilliantly, eyes half-lidded and yet so alert it was scary. He was drinking it all up, taking in the spectacle and enjoying the show.

“Look at you, making yourself cum on my cock,” he teased breathily, trying to keep the same tempo but I could feel he was slipping too, “If I knew you’d be cumming your brain out within a few thrusts like this, I’d have treated you like that from the beginning, darling.” I barely registered it, instead everything inside of me screaming from teetering on the edge for too long.

And then suddenly I stuttered and gasped, everything crashing onto me in a burst of fire, and I was cumming so fiercely I screamed, cunt clenching strongly enough to restrict his movement, but he continued slamming into me forcefully as if nothing happened, as if it was nothing while I shook and jerked and cried, the feeling overtaking me with such intensity I blacked out for a moment, eyes rolling back into the back of my skull and my tongue lolling out of my mouth and dripping drool everywhere. Everything was just white noise, and all I could register were my curling toes, my fingers digging into the fabric hard enough to hurt, the feeling of my juices streaming down my thighs as I came and my cunt pumping the most delicious euphoria I’ve ever felt through my body, like sweet ambrosia running through my veins.

I heaved a deep breath suddenly, like coming up through the surface after almost drowning, my body snapping back into itself as the climax turned into a continuous shivering electric hum under my skin. I felt even barely conscious, eyes slipping closed after the intensity of the orgasm plundering through me at the hands of the beautiful man.

But Seonghwa was still thrusting into me, plunging deep and keeping practically the same tempo, and I cried out in overstimulation, instinctively trying to pull away from him, but he kept me in place with his grip, never faltering and taking what he wanted. He was grunting and loudly gasping for air behind me, clearly also on the edge of finding his release, while I was fucked into complete oversensitivity, every new thrust sending scalding hot fireworks through my tired body.

His pace changed, his strokes getting more heavy-handed as he focused more on delivering deep hard thrusts instead of keeping up his pace, the impact of our bodies strong enough to make loud slapping noises that flew through the room, and in any normal kind of headspace it would make me embarrassed, but now I could barely think about anything else other than the hard hot cock making me go crazy and slowly pushing me towards a third high.

Seonghwa curled around me slightly, crumpling with the force of his oncoming orgasm, eyes blown wide and mouth hanging open, his hands digging into me with such force I was afraid they were drawing blood.

This was pure animalistic fucking, the kind that I’ve never experienced before, and wasn’t fully prepared for what was in store for me, turning me into a lifeless ragdoll in his hands, just taking it, body jolting around on the soft settee along with his movements.

“I’m going to ruin you for him,” gasped out Seonghwa abruptly after such a long period of silence. His mind seemed to be completely gone, eyes glazed over with something insane and dangerous. His hips pumped desperately, and I felt his cock twitching wildly inside of me just begging to burst.

“I’m going to ruin you for him and for everyone else,” he continued hurriedly, the words falling out of him quickly and with force, “every time he even tries, you’ll only be thinking about how I gave it to you better than any man ever could. My sweet little sister-in-law thinking about my cock while fucking her husband.” A long groan left him, the image he was painting getting to him and pushing him towards the edge hard, his eyes squeezing shut tightly.

I moaned out weakly at that, heat clamping down on him once again in response to his filthy words, and there was an absolutely debauched high-pitched moan from behind me before I felt Seonghwa explode, cumming in strong thick spurts that filled me up quickly as his hips jerked forward with the momentum, trying to press himself as deep as possible to deposit his load.

Another wave similar to a weak orgasm rolled through me and I shivered under him, body protesting and begging me for a reprieve.

We stilled, both trying to catch our breath and recover from the highs we went through, and Seonghwa leaned down, plastering himself to my back. The heat rose at the contact of our two bodies and it was nearly unbearable, but then suddenly the man was giggling darkly into my ear and dread rolled through me at the sound. His lips attached themselves lightly to the lobe, playing with it a little before getting to the point.

“Gave you my load nice and deep darling,” he whispered conspiratorially, another breathless chuckle escaping him, “just like your pussy wanted.” There was a terrible beat of silence, the calm before storm, the dark awful moment before a disaster strikes. I felt his lips pressing closer to the shell of my ear, almost feeling the shape of his smirk.

“Wouldn’t it be ironic…” he started playfully, intentionally avoiding what he wanted to say, until he finally whispered: “How fun would it be if his first son was my bastard, huh? If I got you nice and pregnant tonight and sent you back with a little gift? Wouldn’t you agree, darling?”

A sense of dread and panic started setting into my stomach, but I was too tired, too drained, and I couldn’t do anything except lie there under him and slowly come to terms with my fate. My eyes were even barely open, but I saw enough of him to know that he had more than just a little sick satisfaction from that. The only thing I could do was turn my gaze away and quietly stew in the possible consequences      of my lapse of judgement.

“He took everything of mine,” Seonghwa said with dark finality, “It’s only fair I take something of his.” I didn’t react to that, letting him ride the high all on his own while I just wanted to lie down and sleep. But he seemed to have a different idea of how this evening would continue.

With a deep rumbling laugh he gently gathered me in his arms, dislodging himself from me in the process. I blushed lightly at the feeling of his thick cum trickling down my thighs immediately, but I bet it could be barely seen on my sweaty red face. I dreaded to see the state of my makeup after all of this, or the state of the sofa where my face got smushed into the light brown fabric. Or where I, you know, got fucked into oblivion.

Seonghwa happily heaved me up and started walking towards the king bed in the other room, softly laying me down on the bedding. In my half delirious state my tired brain tried catch up with him now that he flipped again and started being all kind, but I just watched him warily as he moved about the room elegantly.

His clothes were somehow still perfectly in place, except for his pants that were open and hanging onto his hips by sheer willpower. I could see the dark stains of my slick on them alongside some colourful smudges of my makeup and I blushed again, the shame catching up on me now that my brain wasn’t as heated anymore, and I could think at least a little clearly.

I was gathering up my strength to sit up and remove the rest of the tattered lingerie (and my shoes, somehow I managed to forget my heels were still firmly strapped on my feet), when I felt a shadow fall over me. My eyes blinked open slowly, taking in Seonghwa who suddenly appeared at the foot of the bed, looking down on me amusedly.

I watched on as he slowly started loosening his tie and undoing the buttons on his black vest and white shirt. He undressed unhurriedly, the whole time hypnotising me with dark eyes and the bad premonition rose in me once more, the pit in my stomach opening. But if it was with dread or hunger, I couldn’t tell.

Once he got rid of everything except for his pants and underwear, which was on again even though there was a dark wet stain on it, I was already inched up all the way in the middle of the bed as if instinctively trying to put some distance between us. The predatory glint in his eyes told me he was very aware of that; it was trained on me like a wolf’s gaze on a helpless rabbit.

He leisurely climbed onto the bed, one leg after another, beautiful muscled torso on display, just miles of flawless honey-toned skin rippling with every fluid movement of his lithe body. Suddenly he leaned forward and his hands clasped around my ankles like shackles, but his touch remained delicate, a complete one eighty from the ruthless man before.

While keeping his eyes trained on mine, he languidly bent down and placed a barely there kiss on the skin right above my ankle, and I shivered at the caress, my legs tensing and trembling under his care. Seonghwa smirked lightly, snickered quietly and put his lips back to work.

As he unhurriedly climbed up my legs, crawling over me with his hands and lips reverently tracing my heated skin, here or there swiping his tongue over it and tasting the salt of our combined sweat, I laid there and observed him with bated breath, tentative excitement beginning to swirl in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t sure whether I could go on, but it was hard to remain cold under his lustful stare and gentle hands.

When he reached my crotch I gasped and he laughed at me, nosing a little around the sensitive area and staring like a hawk at my reaction. Trying hard not to break I pursed my lips together hard, but I couldn’t conceal whatever it was that swam in my eyes to which he seemed to be drawn the most. I cursed at my weak mind and flesh and threw my head back in surrender, thighs automatically falling more apart to give him space to operate.

My heart gave a few painful pumps, and I tried not to think about what was happening here, tried to not think about what night this was and who I was with, but the man seemed determined not to let me forget what sin we were committing here.

An amused chuckle flew out his mouth at me, I felt the puff of air hit my sensitive slit and jolted a little with a quiet gasp, but he only kissed the top of my mound and then moved on to kiss at my hip and further up.

“I’d love to clean up your naughty little pussy, darling,” he whispered into my navel stuttering and trembling with my uneven breaths, “but I want my cum stay right where it is for just a moment longer.” I shuddered at that, a pulse of heat running through me. My hands, all sweaty and clammy, desperately grabbed onto the sheet and dug deep into the mattress in a miserable attempt to not grasp onto him.

Seonghwa slowly kissed his way all the way up to my breasts and suddenly his way was obstructed by the remnants of my night-dress, the white lacy bra barely holding on after he ripped off the lower half of the set. After one cheeky glance my way he sat up and tapped my side gently.

“Arch that back for me for a moment doll, let me take it off for you,” trickled out of his mouth in a sensual drawl, hands already sliding to my back. I listened, of course I did, even though I still stubbornly refused to meet his eyes and turned my head to the side, instead looking out the window at the night Seoul. The man’s reflection was embedded there, obstructing my view and forcing me to perceive him until the bitter end. I watched as he moved fluidly, hands caressing their way up my back and searching for the clasp, undoing it with a single blind flick of his fingers.

I felt the fabric give and slide off of me slightly, before Seonghwa dutifully moved to collect it and move it away, quickly taking it off and throwing it to the side towards the closet. I kept my eyes trained on the vision he was, a dark silhouette backlit with golden light, almost shining skin like a halo, on the backdrop of the beautiful nightline. It was ethereal, he looked ethereal.

The figure moved again, smoothing himself out over the bed, anchoring himself between my thighs. I witnessed him languidly bend down, like he had all the time in the world, a soft smirk on his face that spoke of victory. The same moment his head ducked down lazily, I felt the man’s hot breath hit my skin and then he was licking a bold stripe up the strip between my breasts. In the reflection, the two forms moulded together, and I felt myself arch up into him and gasp, breaking the eye contact with the window.

I lost the battle to my hands and finally reached for him, needed to feel him and grab on to him so viscerally I almost couldn’t breathe with the desire. I ran up the smooth planes of his back until I finally tangled them into his long black messed up hair, for the second time that night.

Contrary to what I expected, Seonghwa kept himself calm and only migrated to softly play with my tit, pulling the nipple into his mouth and lightly sucking, sending tingling down my spine. He wasn’t hurried at all, the lazy strokes of his tongue around the little nub and the sucks pleasantly sending bursts of warmth through me.

His hands held my tits from the sides, pushing them together as he trailed his mouth all over them, laying down searing branding kisses, alternating between the two nipples and biting lightly. I surrendered to the feeling, letting the beautiful man play me as he pleased, curling into him and hands pulling him closer, massaging the skin of his back and his shoulders.

I was obsessed with the feeling of him under my hands, the heat radiating off of him, the softness of his skin compared to the firmness of the muscle bellow, feeling it ripple as he moved himself closer and plunged his head between my tits, feeling it vibrate with his light moans and sighs of pleasure. It felt like I was losing my mind, body melting into him and eternally begging for more.

I had my eyes closed firmly shut, head thrown back and all thoughts banished except for the sensation of his wet tongue exploring every inch of me and leaving a trail of shivers behind. Without me realising it my thighs rose to cage his waist and hips, hitching up to the back of his thighs and latching onto him so he could never leave and deprive me of this feeling.

Seonghwa was full of happy chuffs and amused chuckles, just entertaining himself by watching me struggle to contain the lust, and I could feel his eyes on me, the dark orbs taking me in as I laid there under him and pleaded for his attention without even having to say a single word.

After what felt like hours of just worshipping my tits, until not even a single millimetre of my skin wasn’t kissed or licked or sucked by his naughty mouth, he finally moved higher and settled into the crook of my neck and latching onto the soft spot right under my ear, making me keen and sigh and whimper. He paid the same attention to my neck, marking it all up with searing kisses and bites that left a gentle sting mixing into the pleasure and I felt my cunt gushing once more, getting ready to take him again.

This new position had our hips perfectly aligned and there was an unmistakable bulge pressing into my centre, and before I could stop myself or think about it, I started gyrating my hips and rubbing myself all over him.

“Being so naughty again, princess,” Seonghwa murmured into my skin with a snicker, “Need another good fucking? Want another load from your brother-in-law, is that it?” I whined, turning my head away from him in embarrassment, but he didn’t seem bothered and only pressed himself closer. I hated when he was using that name for himself, but I couldn’t deny it was the truth. I’ve done such a good job of ignoring that blaring fact, but he never failed to bring me back firmly onto Earth.

Then his hand slowly sneaked from my breasts down my stomach between my legs and he immediately pressed two fingers onto my clit, forcing a stuttered moan out of my throat.

My pussy was so raw and tender after the fucking it received, just wet and swollen and burning, burning for more and begging to be filled and ravaged again, and I knew the moment I’d get his cock inside me again it would feel like getting branded with a fired seal, but I craved nothing more than to have the tip battering my sweet spot until I couldn’t speak.

His fingers didn’t waste time and after some playing around with the sensitive aching nub, he plunged them as deep inside as they could go, giving me a nice substitute but knowing they wouldn’t fill me up enough, not in the way I craved as I began to lose my mind to the lust once more.

The residues of his last release squelched and spurted around his fingers as he began slowly but forcefully fucking me with them, turning it into even a bigger mess, but I barely cared when I had something to clench onto and ride the feeling.

I absolutely felt like I was going through a heat, like I wasn’t capable of single thought beyond getting absolutely railed by this stunning cruel man. At the back of my head countless alarms blared through the night, but I ignored all of them. So what if he did it for revenge? So what if he didn’t care one bit? So what if this had potentially devastating consequences? Nothing mattered as long as he kept fucking me and making me cum.

“How’s that, darling?” he asked on a mean turn of his fingers, forcing them deeper into me and curling them into the most sensitive patch, “Enjoying your brother-in-law’s fingers? You’re such a dirty little whore, letting me have my way with you on your wedding night.” The equally fascinated and mocking tone of his voice was back, hypnotising me with its sweetness and luring me in just to hammer my shame home even further.

I ignored the way I clenched around him at those words, though Seonghwa no doubt noticed judging by the snickers and giggles that kept escaping him as he watched me flail about on the bed under his ministrations. The whine that did claw its way out of me was completely involuntary though and I tried to cover it up with a loud exclamation of “Seonghwa!”. I truly meant it as a reprimand, but it came out as a helpless moan as I felt a shockwave of pleasure rushing through me.

And had I been watching the man, I’d see the way his already blown out pupils dilated with lust even more, as the familiar glint of aroused craze settled back into them.

“Fuck, darling, I really do like hearing you say my name like that,” he whispered breathlessly, fingers picking up the pace, “And you’re absolutely right. You should be screaming my name, you should scream yourself hoarse on my cock so you’d never forget..”

I panted heavily and my legs kept tensing with the rising feeling of another orgasm coming, this time the tidal wave rising higher and higher, the tension getting more strung up and tightening around my core like a string about to snap. But I needed more. I wanted more.

Letting go of all the inhibitions I had left, I grabbed onto the man, desperately pulling at him as I arched more, thighs falling open and hips canting up to feel his thin frame lodge into mine even more. My eyes blinked open after what felt like a whole eternity in a blissful darkness and sought out his immediately, looking into those all-consuming orbs watching my every move.

“Please, Seonghwa…” came out as a hoarse whisper, more a desperate whine than anything, “fuck, please! Please, give me something!” A wicked fucking grin split his face and I realised that it was what he was waiting for this whole time. To break me enough to beg for it all on my own. A dark anticipation ran through me, knowing I’d finally get what he’d been teasing me with.

And I couldn’t even feel bad about it when the man finally extricated himself from me, settled on his knees and pushed his trousers and underwear off, baring himself to me for the first time that night. Or early morning, I had no idea how much time has actually passed.

I was taking his lean figure in hungrily, eyes scaling up and down the elegant planes and curves that hid so much muscle and strength under deceptive beauty, and of course, his beautiful cock standing tall, thin, long and angry red at the weeping tip, all but begging to get back inside of my warmth. And who was I to take that away from him?

Clocking in how starvingly I was eyeing his length, the man smirked at me, hand going to grip my jaw and force my eyes back to his face. There was an arrogant self-satisfied grimace, knowing he’d captivated me like no other before.

“Now now, be a good girl,” Seonghwa taunted darkly, “and maybe I’ll let you suck it some other time.” The promise in that sentence sent shivers and goosebumps down the line of my body, but I couldn’t decide whether it was dread or pure ecstasy at knowing I’d get him like this again, already completely hooked on what he was offering. I licked my lips and his eyes jumped briefly down, lips absentmindedly turning into a smile and then he released me.

Now fully naked, he teasingly slowly settled over me, hips anchoring themselves between my thighs like before, but this time he went for my mouth in another claiming kiss, grabbing onto the side of my head as he pushed his tongue in immediately and eagerly drank up all my little noises of surprise and joy.

This kiss was different though, languid and deliberate and deep, the slow strokes almost lazy in nature, and I keened into him, eyes rolling back with the sensations that washed over me both suddenly and gradually at the same time.

And then, without any warning, he started pushing in, much like he was kissing me – languidly and deliberately driving into me in a slow motion, until our hips were moulded together. And this time it felt like he was even deeper, just sitting there inside of me, pushing into me in a way that was making me crazy without even moving, the weight of having him pressed there enough to choke me up on a sob.

My mouth opened on a moan and Seonghwa hungrily ate it up, mouth continuing to work me and kiss me even though I grew unresponsive in his arms, eyes glazed and unseeing.

And just like before, contrary to my expectations, he didn’t start wildly thrusting into me. Instead he just as slowly pulled out and pushed back in, hips fluidly moving in broad slow strokes and I felt like he was pumping hot molten iron into my circulation.

Our mouths disconnected with a lewd gasp, a few strings of saliva connecting us together until his dark grin broke them. We were so close to each other, our skin melded together by sweat, bodies sliding against each other with every leisured thrust. He stayed hovering right above me, our noses brushing together and breaths mingling. Seonghwa drank up every little twitch of my face with his dark blown out eyes and I couldn’t help but keep my wide open, staring right back.

The eye contact was intense, and I felt sparks jumping between us, but neither of us broke. We just breathed into each other’s lips, brushing but not initiating another kiss. It was so intimate it almost fooled me into believing we cared about each other; with one of his hands reverently caressing my side and the gentle steady pace of his hips, it would have been easy to believe that.

Seonghwa shifted slightly, so that he was leaning on his elbow placed by my shoulder, while the free hand travelled down again to grasp at my hip. Pinning me down to the bed, he roughed up the pace a little, snapping his hips to me a little harder. That finally got me breaking out of the spell and the moment he hammered into my sweet spot, my eyes rolled back into my head and I moaned whinily.

I grabbed onto him, at first onto the shoulders and then I migrated to his waist. Seonghwa chuckled and swerved to get back to my neck, giggling lightly straight into my ear.

“That’s it, darling,” he whispered devotedly, voice honeyed and curling around my senses like a snake, “Fuck, yeah, that’s it…” I took in a shaky breath and immediately tensed at another perfectly aimed pump.

“Seonghwa..” I whimpered out, arching under him even more if that even was possible, legs curling around his hips, and he suddenly pulled back his arm to grab onto my right knee and force it all the way until it hit the mattress, opening me up to him and sliding in even deeper on the next stroke. I choked on a whine, the gradual build up of another orgasm turning my tongue into lead and whiting out my mind.

Seonghwa stubbornly refused to speed up, even though I was hopelessly writhing underneath him on the king bed in the honeymoon suite, husband of barely few hours drunken halfway to death somewhere in this 60-storey building, and here I was. Falling apart another man’s cock, begging for more.

“S-Seonghwa!” I choked out again, “Please, please, fuck I need something!” My cunt felt so raw and sensitive from all the fucking and orgasms before and every time he plunged back inside, slowly to make me feel every inch, every ridge, until his tip nudged as deep as it could go, it ignited me in a way that seemed to touch deep enough to burn my soul.

I felt the sweat trickling down my body, from the creases on the inside of my knees, from beneath my breasts, down my neck and hairline, we both felt so sweaty we stuck together, every movement made smooth by it. It made the slapping noise of our bodies meeting each other wetter, along with my juices that must have by now covered absolutely everything. The heat was nigh unbearable, but it was consuming me from the inside out just like all the other sensations, making my brain even more muddled.

I fought to focus my eyes again, pull them towards Seonghwa, to see the man that was ruining me like this, to see what kind of expression was on his face. The moment I rolled my head back, he was there. The man must have gone back to watching me at some point without me realising it, because there he was, with his face wet with perspiration and hair sticking to his forehead, eyes almost black and lips curled loosely into a smug grin.

“There you are, darling,” fell out of his lips easily, in the otherwise pretty silent room it was almost too loud. I gasped and hiccupped, still hanging onto him like a lifeline.

“After this, what I wouldn’t give to have you ride me, pretty girl,” the man continued now that he had my attention again, “To see your tits bounce as you ride my cock, to fill you up with another load… I know you deserve another one, don’t you pretty girl?” He grew breathless with every word, hips losing rhythm and snapping a little faster, not much but a smidge. I appreciated it all the same, chanting a row of “yes, yes, yes!” while he laughed at me like I was pathetic.

“I’ll have you do it some other time, darling,” Seonghwa just kept going, my reactions fuel to his fire, hips now swirling with every thrust, working in little circles like he was just amusing himself, “after all, I’ll probably need to pump you full a couple times before it takes, huh? And we have all the time in the universe… now that we’re family.”

I whined, but it was drowned out by the noise inside of my head. Sparks were erupting all over my body, the steady pace he set putting just enough pressure on my g-spot to have me stiffening and growing taunt, getting pushed closer and closer to an edge that was already so familiar to me by now.

“Like that!” I couldn’t hold back the scream, head thrown back into the pillows, “Hwa! Hwa, please don’t stop!” The man in question didn’t laugh at me like I anticipated, instead he bent down until our foreheads were almost touching, hand clenching on my knee and keeping it pushed into the bedding, hips enthusiastically pumping into me in a deep circular motion. There were some soft creaks of the bed that got lost to my relieved moans, drowned in the cacophony that was us.

The shaking started up again, the feeling close to overcoming me so intense my whole body shook and trembled as I gasped and moaned, my throat hoarse and lips bitten raw (whether it be from Seonghwa or my own self).

Seemed that the man for once decided to listen to me, cause he kept his pace and aimed at that one spot until I felt the wave rising, rising, pussy clenching and squeezing. It was mounting way more intensely than before and I found myself thrashing, feeling like I was about to explode.

My fingers dug into Seonghwa’s skin, enough to leave him some nasty marks and scratches, and I heard the man hiss in pleasure, hips kicking forward a little rougher and all it took was two, three, four more pumps and then everything burst out in blinding deafening blast, body contorting as much as it could twist under Seonghwa, toes curling and the ecstasy shot through me, shot out of me in strong currents of relief and it felt so fucking good, so good I could cry (and I probably did).

Once the first wave fell off a little, I registered Seonghwa’s stuttered moans and curses, hips jerking wildly, drawing out the euphoria endlessly until I thought I might die between the never-ending pulses of pleasure. The feeling of wetness rose tenfold between us, but my brain couldn’t comprehend anything.

I kept moaning as Seonghwa kept thrusting, going with the feeling and riding the high, listening to his desperate groans and murmurs. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, not fully, everything still fuzzy on the edges and my bones molten gold, even the air I was breathing was full of ecstasy and everything swam in front of my eyes.

“Look at me darling, fuck, look at me,” his desperate moan pulled my attention, and I did my best to focus on him. Eyes blown wide and hair messy, golden skin dewy with drops of perspiration; I felt one hit my skin and splatter and it was almost burning.

“Fuck, I wanna see you when I fill you up one last time, pretty girl,” Seonghwa gasped out, hold tightening on my thigh and mouth open wide gasping into mine as our noses slid against each other with sweat.

When he came, I felt it viscerally through my whole body.

At first, he trembled under my hands, muscles growing taunt. Then his hips kicked forward forcefully and suddenly an overflow of scalding hot seed spilt into me in thick long spurts. Seonghwa’s face fell to my neck and his high-pitched moans reverberated through my chest and I lied there gasping, walls contracting, trying to keep everything inside. It was a primitive instinct, but I knew no better than to get absolutely bred and fucked after all.

There were little tremors running through me, aftershocks of the orgasm, aftershocks of feeling Seonghwa’s orgasm so close, of the raw pleasure it brought me to feel him release inside of me. But as the adrenaline started wearing off, I suddenly felt dizzy and boneless.

Seonghwa was like the devil, lips pressed to the shell of my ear and whispering, tattering off with hushed praises, hands caressing me and his weight comfortably pressing me down into the bed. I felt the warmth of his cum trickling down the cleft of my ass, escaping around his softening cock still lodged inside of me.

“You’re amazing darling, I had no idea you’d squirt for me like that,” I caught one of the things he muttered into my neck sweetly, kissing along the column of it in gently, “such a good girl for me…” Everything wavered, growing dark.

My eyes were closing by themselves, and I could barely keep myself awake enough to hear what he said next, the gravity making itself known once more and pulling my heavy body into the bedding. I slowly drifted off to his soft whispers and tender touches.

Waking up the next morning, if someone told me I got runover by a truck in my sleep, I’d have believed them. I’d fucking swear my body creaked when I tried to move, the muscles protesting and bones cracking into place one by one.

Upon stretching I realised that I was laid in clean sheets. I distinctly remembered falling asleep in a bed that was soaked through with release and sweat, the feeling of the cold wet bedding on my rapidly cooling skin was uncomfortable enough to burn into my memory. I was still naked though.

The next thing I noticed had mortification mixed with shame spreading through me rapidly and I didn’t know whether to blush or just burst out crying. I could feel the dried up cum coating my heat and thighs, meaning he didn’t clean me up afterwards.

I wanted to hate him and paint him in my mind as an asshole that didn’t give two shits about aftercare, since it wouldn’t be that big of a leap honestly, but if I got to know one thing about him yesterday, it’s that he most definitely left it on purpose.

Just as I was cursing him in my mind and figuring out how to take a shower while my entire body refused to work, there was a groan and a ruffle of sheets from behind me. I froze immediately and panic gripped me.

If the bastard didn’t even leave… Anyone could come in at any moment, there’s no explaining the fate that would befall me if I was caught here like this.

But when I finally willed myself through the panic to turn around and face it head on, there was my husband, sleeping like a baby. He was undressed and smelled absolutely horrendously, but it was him unmistakably. Unfortunately. A vague shape of a memory fought its way to the surface in my mind – blearing through sleepy eyes glued together at the shadow of Seonghwa pulling someone into the room, the rustling of sheets and nondescript cursing and thuds – before I got pulled back under.

Great. Just awesome

After few moments of struggling to stand up and balance my weight on my shaky unsteady knees, I finally managed to set out on my way to the bathroom. It was all across the suite and in the process, I got to witness the doom of our night together.

The poor sofa had a stain and a few splatters on it, and I didn’t wish to investigate their origin any further, so I moved through the tattered remains of my wedding dress that was split in the middle almost cleanly. At some point one of us had to knock over a champagne glass, because I almost stepped on it while looking over the dress, instead landing my foot in still a vaguely damp sticky pool of drying alcohol seeping into the carpet and lower tiers of the dress. I ignored the mortification and embarrassment at the clear display of complete mess and soldiered on shakily.

Getting to the bathroom was a whole ordeal, but when I made it, I had no idea the true show was yet to begin. There in mirror was my reflection, it was much clearer than the ones I had burned into my memory of yesterday, there were no blinding lights behind it, no dark sky to distract, only me covered in marks from head to toe, hair a fucked-out nest and eyes red-rimmed.

I breathed out a sigh, resignation setting in as I looked at the state of me. There was nothing I could do. I didn’t even have my makeup here, it was a hot summer outside. I would have to walk out of here eventually and I couldn’t hide even an inch of the reddish and purplish spots and bitemarks that littered the skin of my neck and the swell of my breasts. The bites tapered out a little there and I looked down, seeing the carnage that was my hips with vivid marks of fingers and hands printed on my skin.

For a moment I stood there, eyes squeezed shut and face pulled into a frustrated grimace, but then I just sighed deeply again, the tension quickly bleeding out of me. What was done, was done.

With slumped shoulders I dragged my feet to the shower, trying to make myself forget as much as possible and wash away all the evidence that could be taken off with the soft floral soap.

I hid away in the bathroom for as long as was humanly possible, going through all the extra steps of trying out the several samples of moisturizes and drying my hair until it was almost fried, even cleaning up after myself. If I had the solution, I’d even polish the fucking mirror, but eventually there came a knock on my door and a timid maid informed me I was eagerly awaited at the brunch. I waited to hear her leave, and then with shaky hands pushed the door open.

The room was already empty when I stepped out, but it was clean – the carpet with the dress were gone and the offending sofa stain was covered up with a throw blanket, I supposed until they could get to cleaning it. A single pile of folded clothes sat on the table.

I didn’t even question it until I had it in my hands and realised both the top and the skirt covered just enough to be decent, but most of the marks would be pretty much visible, the spaghetti straps barely covering anything and the slit between my top and bottom showing off the fingerprints on my waist. Rolling my eyes annoyedly I fucking immediately knew this was Seonghwa’s pick.

I was going to murder the man once I got my damn hands on him.

With no other choice left in the empty room, I put it on and made my way downstairs. It was a real walk of shame, all the eyes turning my way and examining my colourful state. Even knowing the staff were all aware it was my wedding night didn’t make it any easier, and at some point, I found the idea of them thinking this was Yujun’s job actually worse than knowing it was his brother. I shimmied quickly down the halls until I reached the little private salon where we were apparently being hosted.

Without realising how bad my day was about to get, I hurriedly rounded the partition and promptly froze in my tracks. This wasn’t a private breakfast. As soon as I stepped into the space, there was several sets of eyes trained on me, more sets than I was comfortable with.

At the head of the table sat my mother and Mrs. Park, both alternating between casting judging glances towards Yujun and towards me, on one side of the table sat three of Yujun’s obnoxious buddies and on the other I found myself once again face to face with Seonghwa.

He was eyeing me with undeniable interest, pupils dark and hungry. Proud. He liked the clothes. Liked showing me off. I flushed but thankfully the embarrassment was easily explainable by the sudden attention from everyone else, especially since Yujun’s bodies started murmuring something no doubt very inappropriate, judging by their lewd expressions.

It was awful and I wanted to fucking melt into the floor, so I stood there for few long moments battling myself to stay put and not turn on my heels and walk straight out of the hotel and into the sea.

Yujun was puffing up his chest, much to the distaste of our mothers sitting right by his side, but he was ignoring them and already sending looks to his friends and looking like a right idiot. I fought to keep the scowl off of my face, and when I finally forced myself to move to sit down in the only spot left at the table, I kicked Seonghwa who was grinning in a very much “cat who ate the canary” way.

The man barely reacted to me and continued leisurely eating his waffles, so self-satisfied it rolled off of him in fucking waves. And what was even worse, of course I had to sit in between him and Yujun. The gods couldn’t be more against me, but I soldiered on. I really had no other option.

I tried not to insert myself into the conversation too much. After the initial shock of my entrance wore off, the hum of amicable chat resumed. I ignored some very uncouth comments and soon they lost interest in teasing me when I stubbornly stared into my cup or food and didn’t react at all. The brunch dragged on with the air of awkwardness hanging over everybody, our mothers attempting to pull the table back to polite conversation while Yujun continued making an idiot out of himself by behaving like a fucking caveman.

Or maybe it was just me, my husband and his buddies certainly seemed in great spirits. I almost scoffed, managing to put my hand in front of my face last minute and cough. I heard Seonghwa’s quiet snickers to my right and registered my mother’s warning glance, and after that I didn’t speak another word.

And just when I thought I had escaped, with the empty plates signalling the end of the brunch was in sight, I felt a hand on my thigh. My right thigh. Seonghwa looked at me from the corner of his eye, lips dangerously curved into a playful smirk. I tensed, body slowly turning to stone.

Everybody else carried on.

My heart was pumping painfully, hands shaking. An awful feeling of despair set into me, my chest cavity filling with black tar while my head spun. What had I gotten myself into?

“Seonghwa, thank you for letting us use the hotel,” my mother said, completely clueless, “it was so very helpful.”

He laughed gently, hand squeezing my thigh possessively.

“Trust me, it was my pleasure.”

thank you for reading!

the divider taken from the amazingly talented @saradika-graphics

[opbackgrounds]

This scene with Sanji is one of his most important moments in the series, and in my opinion also one of the most difficult passages in the manga to interpret, because to completely understand it you have to look at the manga holistically rather than this scene by itself.

The big question that needs answered is why does Oda let Zoro "win" here by having him be the sacrifice instead of Sanji. Both are equally willing and both are identified much later on as the Wings of the Pirate King, implying that they have similar importance (although vastly different roles) within the Straw Hat crew.

If we go back to Sanji's introduction on the Baratie, his big flaw was that he lacked the "spear of spirit" to pursue his dream. Since he's been a boy he's wanted to find the All Blue, but even when he had the opportunity to go after that dream he chose to stay on the Baratie out of a feeling of obligation to Zeff. Sanji put the continued existence of the restaurant over his own life, something Luffy rightfully called him out for at the time, and even at the end of the arc had to be pushed away by Zeff and the other chefs before he finally set sail for good.

On Drum, Sanji once again almost died protecting Nami and Luffy during the avalanche, resulting in a broken back that required surgury from Dr. Kureha. Luffy again calls him out (note the English translation here isn't entirely accurate, see here for a breakdown), and with his power there's a good chance Luffy could have gotten them all out of trouble without all the dramatics by Sanji.

Something similar happens on Skypiea, when Sanji puts himself in the way of Enel so that Usopp and Nami can be saved. This case is perhaps more justifiable given the extreme situation they were in, but nonetheless he was still quick to throw his life away.

Then on Enies Lobby Nami--while not criticizing his chivalry--calls out Sanji for simply not running away from Kalifa, instead just accepting that he's going to get the shit beat out of him, and possibly die.

So there's a pattern of self-destructive behavior. Sanji repeatedly puts his life on the line when he doesn't need to in order to preserve the lives and dreams of the people he loves. Even him constantly simping over Nami and Robin falls a little into this category, because if either of them told him to take a long walk off a short pier I have no doubt he'd comply. It's that same extreme willingness to sacrifice anything and everything for the people he cares for that we see in Baby 5, except Sanji was fortunate enough to not be surrounded by people that encourage these worst impulses of self-destructive behavior. As he says here in Thriller Bark, he's just the cook. Luffy can always just find someone else.

(The glory of Whole Cake Island being Sanji realizing, no, Luffy can't, and he won't).

And it is finally on WCI that get to the heart of why Sanji is like this with yet another episode of putting his own dreams and happiness aside for the sake of others, and not until Wano that we finally see him take the first steps toward asking others for help instead of passionately throwing his life away when he doesn’t need to.

When Zoro first offered his head to Kuma, the prominence of his dream was first and foremost. Notice that Sanji never mentions the All Blue. One Piece is a series that places the pursuit of one's own ambition above all else, even if that ambition is selfish. Sanji hasn't yet learned to be selfish, so Zoro knocks him out and ends up being the one to accept Luffy's pain. Sacrifice isn't sacrifice if the person doesn't value what they're giving up, and right now Sanji clearly doesn't value his own life compared to the rest of the crew.

Next chapter Oda will speak through Brook to confirm that Sanji's willingness to give himself up wasn't foolish or stupid. It's just that he's missing a piece of the puzzle, and that's not something he'll have for a long time yet.

[mrpenguinpants]

Look, but don't touch. [ Harbinger Edition ]

— You're the only one who's allowed to touch him. Likewise, he's the only one that's allowed to touch you.

— Childe, Pantalone, Scaramouche, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

Love Language Series | Touch [ Here ] | Actions | Time | Words | Gifts

This is written before the Sumeru quest. Harbingers are their own warning.

This was a fever dream, incredibly self-indulgent, don't talk to me about this ok. Honestly don't even wanna tag people in this (´。＿。｀)

Tartaglia

Childe is friendly but he always keeps himself at arm's distance from anyone who isn't his family. The kind of guy that acts like he loves everyone but he truly doesn't like anyone. Always polite but never kind. He won't be outwardly hostile if one of the cicin mages decides she wants to try her luck and cuddle up to him, he sort of admires her bravery, but the hardened stare and indifferent response are awkward enough for anyone to bail halfway.

So what a surprise to everyone when it's Childe himself that pulls you into him. It's not a friendly hug either, he quite literally drags you into his embrace as soon as he sees you, locks his arms around your waist, and spins you around. Before he catches himself and gently settles you down and pretends as if he didn't boldly announce to everyone that you're special.

He is a harbinger at the end of the day so any intimate relationships he has need to be hidden lest he puts you in danger. That said, he doesn't do a very good job. He gets agitated and fidgety if he can't hold you, longing gazes in your direction even if someone else is speaking to him about something important. Whether it's shooing specks of dust off your shoulder, a tap on the arm, or the brief brush of your fingers against his whenever he hands something to you. He always finds some way to touch you.

It's always the worst and best time to speak with Childe if you happen to be there. On the upside, Childe is more likely to give his approval to whatever his subordinates ask just so they go away and leave you both alone. On the downside, because physical touch somehow makes Childe drowsy and almost drunk, he's useless.

It wasn't always like this. During your first months as something more than friends, not quite lovers, he kept you at an arm's distance just like everyone else. Only the occasional arm over your shoulder or a hand on the small of your back, just enough to show you that you meant something to him. But over time, those touches began to linger until the dynamic shifted and he began to rely on your touches to keep him sated. On particularly stressful days, he'll pull you aside into his office with a rushed excuse to just hold you in his lap. He's recharging, don't make tease him.

But he's not a selfish lover. If you need comfort or just want to be held, he'll gladly throw his plans out the window just to spend time with you. What's wrong? Did someone upset you? Want me to take care of them? He'll offer anything to make you feel better while you're cuddled up to him and it makes his heart flutter when you say you just want to stay beside him. He has a bad habit of resting his entire weight on top of you if you're both ever lying down. All that muscle is heavy but sometimes it's comfortable until his elbow accidentally digs into your side.

Childe can be polite if someone else wants to touch him but he's baring his teeth at anyone that has the audacity to place their hands on you. If someone bumps into you? He's fine, accidents happen. Someone moves you to the side? Whatever he won't throw a fit over that. He believes in the below-the-shoulder, above-the-waist, hands not included, rule. If anyone touches you, it's the only time when Childe will throw his reputation out the window.

Scaramouche likes to compare him to a dog and he'll gladly growl and bark if that's what it takes for people to get the hint and leave you alone. He'll slide his arms around your waist, tilt your chin up, and without any concern about the scene that this will cause, kisses you deeply. All the while sending the nastiest glare to the person that touched you. Look, don't touch. You're his.

Childe likes to believe that he has self-restraint. He's a soldier first and foremost so he has discipline beaten into his bones. But right now he's close to snapping the pen in his hands and hurling it into that bastard's forehead. He can feel Ekaterina's concerned gaze on him, shifting on her feet nervously, as she struggles to push through her explanation of his assignment quickly. Unfortunately, it's all white noise to Childe as all of his attention is on the cicin mage whose being a bit too friendly for his liking.

"Lord Tartaglia?"

Of course, you don't blink twice at it. He's seen how that loud electro pirate dotes on you and is overly physically affectionate herself. Maybe he should also fight her as well after he's done dealing with this cicin mage.

"Childe?" Ekaterina tries one last time, using a more familiar name to see if that would catch her superior's attention but alas, he was too busy glaring daggers into her college. Ekaterina raises a hand to lightly tap on her superior's shoulder to get his attention but just as her fingertips brush against the fabric of his uniform, Childe's death glare is directed at her. She flinches away from the otherwise easy-going Childe, her mask doing little to hide her startled expression.

"Sorry, sorry, not meant for you," Childe blinks away the hate from his ocean eyes, coming to his senses as he runs a hand through his hair, "What were you saying?"

"There is no need to apologize, Lord Tartaglia, I overstepped," Ekaterina, bless her heart, waves off the sudden aggression but takes a step back. Before she can continue, she overhears you saying goodbye to the mage and your footsteps coming closer. A small surprised noise escapes your chest as Childe pulls you into his arms immediately. If she didn't know Childe, she could almost say his expression was a bit cute with how pouty he was being. Although the look in his eyes says otherwise now that she was just on the receiving end. This seems to be a common occurrence because you just giggle and hug him back just as tightly.

"Please don't harm her. She was just being nice," you mumble into his chest.

"I'll think about it," he says, his eyes never leaving the mage.

Pantalone

On the one hand, the banker always carries this prestige that makes most people stay away in awe. No one wants to get on the wrong side of the man who basically funds the country of Snezhnaya. On the other hand, Pantalone has an ethereal beauty that compels people to come closer and touch. To see if the porcelain skin is real, feel if he's muscular or lean under the heavy fabric, or sneak a peek at what colour the banker's eyes are. It makes you kind of giddy knowing that this man belongs to you. That you know the answer to all these speculations.

You aren't sure when it started happening but at some point, he always ends up sort of mindlessly touching him. Placing a hand on his arm or knee, running your fingers through his hair, or gently rubbing away the stress from his shoulders. There wasn't an ulterior motive, Pantalone was just too handsome that you can't help but touch him just to make sure he's real. He thought you were overexaggerating a bit but he seemed deeply pleased at your confession since it was coming from you personally. That egotistical bastard.

But he always reciprocated your touch. Offering an arm for you to hold onto, brushing the hair out of your face, or rubbing small circles into your hand. Small gestures of affection would occasionally lead to more. The fact that Pantalone of all people let you be this close was something you secretly prided in yourself. You couldn't help but rub his newfound privilege in front of anyone that got too close that this elegant man was yours to hold. Look all you want but you're the only one that gets to touch.

You weren't aware of Pantalone's level of aversion to touch until he almost caused a scene at a gathering. It was meant more for looks and reputation, the occasional business talk, but overall a lax evening. One of the ladies thought it would be a good gesture to place her hand against Pantalone's arm. A bit flirty but innocent enough that the sheer disdain that swirled in Pantalone's eyes made her flinch away surprised. He struck her hand away, the sound carrying through the now-silent ballroom as everyone turned to the sound. You were surprised as well that Pantalone of all people, the image of control and ever-smiling, lips turned down into a repulsed scowl. Your feet quickly moved over to him, quietly excusing the woman for her careless act, and ushering her away before anything escalated. No one spoke of that night.

Ever since then you've always kept your hands firmly glued to your sides lest you feel his anger. If you happened to brush against his finger you would splutter out apologies and scamper away. If you felt his hand hover near you, you always assumed you were in the way and quickly moved aside for him. Overall, you acted as if it was you that was uncomfortable with touch. With each passing day that you fled from his hand, the crease in Pantalone's frown grew deeper.

It comes to a head one night when you get to see how Pantalone's aversion to touch applies to you as well. Occasionally some wealthy noble will host a gala and as one of the Tsaritsa Harbingers, Pantalone will be required to be present for at least one of them. Given his status, most of the attendees flock over to him which leaves poor you to meander about and find something to do with the time. Despite being his lover, you're not privy to what goes on with his work and frankly, the business talk and parties bore you. At least these places have food.

He sees you conversing with a man he knows is from Liyue, hoping to find more investors and trade partners here in Snezhnaya. He's already spoken to the man and rejected his offer so that's most likely why he's speaking to you, the banker's partner to garner sympathy. Although from the looks of things, you don't seem that impressed either. You notice his stare, perhaps his expression betrays him because your eyes grow concerned before giving a polite bow and turning to walk away and to him. If that was all then perhaps tonight wouldn't have ended so badly.

The man grabs your arm painfully enough for you to whimper and that's all Pantalone needs. He doesn't even try to hide his expression behind a smile, his lips set into a straight line. He grabs the man's arm tightly, the leather of his gloves crinkling from the force, and he nearly breaks the man's arm. How dare this inferior social climber put his filthy hands on you. You have to plead with him to let the man go, desperately trying to pry his grip away as the businessman begs the Harbinger on his knees that he didn't know.

Pantalone-

Pantalone is pissed.

You've never seen him this angry before. The lady all those nights ago doesn't even compare close to the anger radiating off him. His fingers flex still as he leads you away into an isolated hallway. You're not even sure if he knows where he's going, completely blindsided by rage. So you quickly step closer and throw your arms around him, stopping him in his tracks as you bury your face into the soft fabric of his suit.

"It's okay. I'm okay," you whisper softly into his back. You're not afraid, he won't get angry, not with you. Never with you. But it still pains you to see him this way. You feel more than you hear his deep sigh before slowly turning around and taking you into his arms. "Thank you. I didn't mean to start anything, you just looked displeased and I got worried. Oh, I'm sorry-"

You quickly move to shuffle out of Pantalone's hold but you can barely get two steps back before his touch grows firm and you're trapped. Despite how strong his hold is, he gently tilts your chin up so you can look into his pretty eyes. He really does have a nice eye colour you think in the back of your mind.

"You've been avoiding me. Care to enlighten me as to why that's the case? Did someone feed your mind with little lies?" Pantalone sounds coy but you can hear the undertone of worry. As if he's done something wrong which you quickly shake your head to.

"W-Well, that incident with the lady from a few weeks ago, the one in the red and black dress, you looked really angry when she touched you so..." you trailed off as your eyes look at anywhere that isn't the man in front of you, nervously twisting the cuff of your sleeve. When you actually hear it back it does sound a bit ridiculous to believe that but you just didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Or make him act a certain way just because you liked physical touch or to uphold appearances.

"And you thought you were comparable to people like that? That I would allow special treatment just because you were mine? That I would reciprocate to anyone but you?"

You fumble a bit at how honest his words are, searching for some way to justify yourself but at the end of the day, you'll knock your head against the wall for how stupid your logic is. So you stand on your tip toes and reach hesitantly up towards his face. Pantalone's face reminds neutral but he slowly leans into his touch, his muscles finally relaxing just by your touch.

Scaramouche

How the hell he tolerates you is anyone's guess. How the hell you tolerate him is Celestia's guess. He has the worst attitude, is quick to anger, flaunts his authority wherever he goes, and is overall a terrible person to be around. Yet every time he looks over his shoulder, you're always one step away from kicking at his heels. Which you have accidentally done before and somehow survived so he must like you a smidge. You tell him it's because it's out of spite that you're still here and spite is a powerful feeling. He of all people should know.

Scaramouche despises anyone being within his personal space, which is already a pretty big range, so the idea of someone touching him is repulsive to him. If he somehow was in danger and someone touched him in order to save his life, he would probably throw a fit and shock them. Their only reward is that he doesn't kill them. It's not like he has to worry too much, no one really wants to be in his presence longer than they have to and any admirers are quickly turned off within the first couple of seconds. Which makes it all the more baffling that you still hang around him and test just how far you can poke his limits.

The first time you touched him was by accident. Someone had bumped into you causing you to fall into Scaramouche. Luckily for you, you managed to put your hands out first and brace yourself against the wall but you had successfully caged the Balladeer between your arms. If you weren't currently fearing for your life you might have laughed at the horrified expression on the Harbinger's face. The only reason you survived that day was that Tartaglia chose that exact moment to waltz in and frankly, he was a far bigger headache than you were.

He's not sure how you managed to worm your warm into his cold non-existent heart but at some point, he got used to your presence in his life. A few words to take care of himself, extra paperwork being filled, or shooing away other soldiers so he could have space. All of these acts of kindness were met with half-baked insults and suspicious looks. Every time he asked you why the hell you were acting like he was some helpless doll you always answered the same, you just felt like it and he looked like he kinda needed it. Which was so baffling to him that you managed to walk away with your head intact.

It started off with small things. Like you're both feral cats that are trying to co-exist in the same alleyway. You always announce your presence, give him enough time to leave, and your touch is barely there. You never do anything close to intimate, never hold his hand or hold his face, and he never reciprocates ever. Although it speaks volumes when he doesn't push you away ever. You're always nearby, sitting close, and you both exist contently.

But just like a feral cat, with enough time and love, even they will begin to grow comfortable and domesticated. The look on his subordinate's face was hilarious when little old you waltzed over to the sixth harbinger, plopped down into his personal space, and literally sprawled yourself over his lap to see what he was looking at. Just to one-up the absurdness, Scaramouche didn't seem bothered in the slightest, only calling you an idiot for not being able to read the document that was right in his hands.

Although there are some downsides to being so close to Scaramouche. He's possessive with the power the enforce his pride. You have to constantly scold him that he can't go frying anyone that comes within two feet of you. It's hardly efficient and it's annoying having to scream just to know what time it is.

The you from years ago would have balked at how casual you were speaking with the infamous Balladeer.

"All I'm saying is you sound like a possessive maniac," you huff, your arms crossing over your chest as you frown down at the sitting man. You doubt he's even paying attention to you because if he isn't throwing spite around then he's filtering you out of his mind. Scaramouche barely acknowledges your words, still fiddling around with the Electro Archon's gnosis. It gives off faint sparks of electro every time he rolls it over his fingers but he doesn't give any signs of pain. Maybe because he's an electro-user? Either way, he's obviously not listening to you. You let out a loud sigh before shrugging and turning on your heel to walk back into the camp. Suddenly, his hand shoots out and latches onto your wrist and he's yanking you down. The you from years ago would have fainted seeing you sprawled over your superior's lap. As your vision tilts to the sky you can't help but think that for such a small body, he sure has a lot of strength. He wears a bored expression, his other hand is cradling his head while his elbow is on his knee, before a nasty smirk makes its way over his face.

"Yeah? So what?" Scaramouch says, his hand stopping to firmly hold the gnosis, though now one of his hands is now settled on your hip. You blink. Huh, you...weren't exactly expecting the ever-prideful Balladeer to blatantly admit that.

"Well, the "what" is that it makes it incredibly inconvenient to talk to anyone. Everyone avoids me like the plague because their scared you're doing to kick down their door and attack them," you pout, grumpily adjusting your head to lay on his knee, "Also you need to eat more. You make a horrible headrest."

"That's fine. You won't need anyone else," he says dismissively.

You open your mouth to say something but the look in his eyes makes you falter. He's serious. A mixture of a past memory, the present moment of you both together, and a far-off dream all dance in his eyes. It's a look you've never seen before on Scaramouche's face despite how long you've worked under him and you can't help but be mesmerized by it. It's likely the first and last time you'll ever see him be honest. But it's quickly over as his eyes morph into snarky glee, his lips pulling into a mean grin.

"You look stupid."

Il Dottore

People are downright terrified to even be in the same room as the infamous doctor. There's never a safe moment and anyone could be the next test subject depending on his mood. It doesn't matter who it is, even his own segments, if someone touches him that means they've just volunteered to be his next experiment. It's suffocating when Dottore is out and not locked in his lab because everyone need's to be hyperaware of where the doctor is located in the room. So to say that Dottore tolerates you is a massive understatement.

He actually quite likes to parade you around, almost like you're his newest addition to his collection. Touch isn't a problem for him if he's the one initiating it given how often he's dragging you around like you're some pet. He's not gentle in the slightest, nearly pulling your arm out in his crazed rush to show you his newest creation. You would joke and say that in moments like these, he's the one that acts like the pet. Too excited to show its owner its newest achievements. But you have a sliver of sanity in your mind so you keep your mouth shut.

Every moment with Dottore is a warped sense of time. You've been with the Doctor for a long time, before he became a Harbinger, and you don't know how your relationship progressed to this stage. You're walking on a tightrope of old colleges that are too intertwined with history to be separated or co-dependent individuals that need death to finally leave each other. So when he touches you softly, affectionally, you stumble and fall off your rope. The mad doctor laughing from above, arms still outstretched from where he's pushed you.

Half of it is madness, and half of it is out of genuine love. Although, to Dottore, madness and love are the same things. His acts of affection are spontaneous and equally as fleeting. One second he's rattling off medical terms and theories, pauses in his rant just to give you a deep kiss no matter who's around you to witness the act, and proceeds as if nothing happens. That's not to say you don't enjoy it when he decides to reward you, you just wished it wasn't in front of so many people. You suspect he does it on purpose.

There's no softness or quiet time aside from the very very few and far between moments Dottore decides to indulge you. He's a busy man, his mind only built for progress, and he has better things to do than to play pretend. But for you, the one who forcibly carved space into his heart, he can make arrangements. Only for a short while. Some days he may hold you as if you'll shatter if he squeezes any harder, other days he'll push your hair away from your eyes quietly, and one day he kisses you as if you're something more.

Unlike Dottore, you don't have an intimidating reputation. People can touch you if they want to. It makes you a bit happy when Childe will pat you on the back or ruffle your hair cheekily. He's also one of the few who can get away with it as well since Dottore can't physically harm him for touching you since he's a fellow Harbinger. Besides, people speak with their eyes more. Since that doesn't qualify as anyone touching you, Dottore won't do anything. So they stare.

They stare at how the Harbinger holds you in a special place. You aren't remarkable, you're the same as the rest of them. Yet you're untouchable and invincible from the man who can change their entire lives. Mistakes occur frequently when Dottore is in the room, the slip of a finger because everyone is too focused on staying out of the Doctor's way. You get to stand beside someone like that.

It's been a hard day. A very hard day. You're absolutely exhausted and ready to curl up into a ball as soon as you get to your room. You aren't even sure what exactly happened. One second you were doing your job and the next your head was on the ground with a pulsing pain on your right cheek. It's not unusual for patients to lash out but under those circumstances, they don't have anything to do with you intimately. You know what people think about your relationship with Dottore. What people who only glimpse into the relationship you have with him think. Usually, they stay silent, only judging you with their eyes but always silent. That is until nearly 10 minutes ago.

"You're late."

You barely react when you hear his voice. Of course, it's him. God, what bad timing. He's the last person you want to see right now, especially in this state. You only give him a nod and mumbled out apologies, stumbling over your feet like a newborn lamb when his hand latches onto your wrist to drag you off again. You think you might have his fingerprints as bruises now. Another thing people can mistakenly think about your relationship. You only know you're crying when you hear the splatter of your tears against the tiled floors and Dottore's footsteps come to a halt. His grip on you has gotten tighter.

You're startled out of your wallowing when warm hands cup your face, brushing your tears away. His gloves are off. When did he take them off? Dottore simply looks at you as you silently cry. You're too tired to apologize, too tired to break down in sobs. Your arms hang uselessly at your sides but you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

"Give me their name."

He whispers it softly. You think back at the girl that struck you. You think she's new, she has to be. You know that if you say her name, you won't see her tomorrow. But you're too tired right now. So with no hesitation, you volunteer her to become the next test subject.

[bluebugjay]

I think that Edwin and Charles can be 'better friends' after Edwin's confession partly due to the fact it was something playing on Edwin's mind and creating distance between them but also it's possibly Edwin's first moment of true vulnerability in front of Charles that he is putting himself in. (so hell doesn't count)

He still snaps at him a bit that he's being serious but everything in this scene is made to make him look vulnerable and powerless. The staging puts him below Charles as he's behind him on the stairs so Charles is looking down at him. He's wearing thin pale clothes, just one layer compared to Charles with his jacket and backpack there's a clear contrast. And Edwin's chosen to confess on the stairs to hell, it would be worst case scenario but if Charles had rejected him harshly he easily could have turned and left Edwin there. (obviously he would never but it's about the fact that he could of, Edwin gave him that power)

That whole scene is so contrasting to the rest of the show. Edwin is bossy and likes to take control on cases and as much as Charles isn't a push over, he seems happy to follow Edwin's lead half the time. So here where Charles has all the power, he's the one making the decision, it's a huge moment. We know Edwin is so put together and in control as a coping mechanism after having no control for decades so him giving all of that up in this moment, his voice breaking, blood stained and baring his heart, it's another layer to how vulnerable he's willing to get, just how much he wants Charles to know he loves him and how important and true it is.

And now they're 'better friends' because they're more equal again. Charles has many vulnerable moments throughout this season, some Edwin was there for and some not. They both had huge journeys to go on but Edwin was hiding everything happening to him away whereas Charles wasn't able to. Edwin in this moment knocking down all of those walls and showing Charles he wasn't untouchable, he was just like him is huge in getting their relationship back on track if not leaving them even closer than before.

[whxtedreams]

Forgetful Love

A Joel x reader birthday oneshot

Summary: she wasn't surprised that he forgot her birthday. Considering the weight he carried on his shoulders, it was a given that it would slip his mind. But she knew that Joel would make it up to her, as he always did.

Word Count: 3.1k

Tags: Birthdays, forgotten birthday, joel just trying to do his best, sad!joel, sarah and tommy mentioned, fluff, hiking trip, reader has she/her pronouns, third person POV

Main masterlist

Joel Miller has a very bad habit of forgetfulness.  

It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he could not quite shake the inclination to forget important details. Whether it was a scheduled appointment, Sarah’s sleepover parties at his house, or even where he last left his keys, the man’s memory often failed him in the most inconvenient of moments.

His mind was constantly overloaded, buzzing with endless to-do lists and responsibilities. It was a never-ending whirlwind of tasks, each demanding his attention and care. No wonder he often forgot things—there was simply too much information swirling around in his head. She could see it in his eyes, could almost hear the gears in his mind grinding as he tried to juggle everything.

So really, she wasn't surprised that he forgot her birthday. Considering the weight he carried on his shoulders, it was a given that it would slip his mind. She understood that his forgetfulness wasn't done out of ignorance or indifference, but merely a result of being so caught up in the chaos and commotion of life.

The day was spent in the quiet haven of her kitchen, where music played softly in the background, filling the air with a soothing, familiar melody. The rich, sweet aroma of chocolate cake hung in the air and the taste of a cool, sweet, iced coffee on her tongue.

When the cake had cooled and iced, the turntable played static at the end of the record and the ice coffee turned warm, Joel texted.

A lot.

Joel: i am the worst person on earth Joel: sarah waited until NOW to remind me Joel: not that its her fault. thats all on me Joel: i fired her as my mini assistant BTW Joel: happy birthday Joel: im sorry Joel: i love you Joel: im coming over now

The texts from Joel, no matter when they arrived, brought a soft smile to her face. Whether it was at 12am this morning or as the clock ticked over to tomorrow, she couldn’t bring herself to feel upset.

She could picture the scene that more than likely unfolded in her mind. She imagined Sarah casually mentioning the forgotten day as Joel strolled through the door, his keys slipping from his fingers as he panicked. Then, a stream of swears escaping him as he frantically searched for his phone, only to realize it was still in his truck, where he had left it after a long day’s work. And to top it all off, his phone was, predictably, dead because he had forgotten to charge it… again.

She couldn’t help but chuckle as she thought about how the scenario was bound to play out. Deep down, she knew that forgetfulness and chaos were just a couple more quirks in the man she loved. That’s why she had already taken the initiative to order takeout, ensuring that even if the day didn’t start perfectly, it would at least end the way it should.

As she stood in front of the table, the evidence of her efforts laid out before her—the homemade cake and the take-out food neatly arranged and plated—she couldn't help but feel a mix of affection and amusement.

She took a quick photo and sent it to him in response to his texts.

*photo attached* Don’t stress!

Ten minutes after she had sent the picture, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the apartment. Joel had finally arrived and she could hear the soft shuffle of his feet as he made his way inside. She waited expectantly at the dining table and watched as he strode around the corner, flowers in hand.

Flowers from his garden.

He trudged towards the table, his shoulders drooped in a mix of defeat and disappointment. The bouquet of flowers in his hand sagged slightly as he approached, and he stopped just short of the table. His eyes met the food laid out before him. "I should have been the one to do all this for you," he mumbled, his frown deepened with guilt.

She attempted to ease his guilt; her voice soft as she spoke. "It's okay," she assured him, watching as he sank into the chair at the table. But she could see from the guilt-ridden expression on his face that he wasn’t convinced, his eyes downcast as he settled into his seat.

She gently took the bouquet from his hand and brought it to her face, inhaling deeply. The sweet, familiar scent filled her senses—a fragrance that reminded her of both him and his daughter. It was a warm, comforting smell, like a snapshot of their lives together. Smiling into the petals, she held the flowers close.

“These are really pretty.” She said.

“Sarah picked them, wrapped them up for you,” Joel's voice was soft as he spoke and just as her fingers traced the delicate petal of a flower, he reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small box and placed it on the table, “even made you this.”

Her smile widened as she carefully opened the box, revealing the origami animals inside. One by one, she took them out. Her laughter filled the room as she admired each one. The origami creatures were a little wonky and uneven, but they were endearing in their imperfection.

“Can see she’s really taking those books I got her seriously.”

"Got a real talent for it. Everything she picks up, she does it perfectly.” As Joel spoke, his fingers fidgeted with the strap of his watch. A frown etched deep on his face.

Her intuition picked up on the nuance behind his words, and she couldn’t help but notice the undercurrent of comparison and self-criticism in his tone. It was clear to her that Joel struggled with feelings of inadequacy.

She placed the origami down beside the flowers and reached gently across the table, her hands enclosing his fidgeting ones. Her voice was soft and reassuring as she spoke, offering comfort and support. "She gets it from you," she said. "Her determination, her talents—they come from you. You've given her the building blocks to excel. You're not the failure you think you are, Joel."

“I forgot your birthday.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“I should have taken you out for dinner, bought you gifts and made you feel special. Instead you bought your own dinner and cooked your own damn birthday cake.” Joel let out a deep sigh, his eyes met hers as he pressed her hand to his lips and placed a gentle, tender kiss on her knuckles.

Her words were soft and sincere as she spoke, her eyes meeting his. "You always make me feel special. Just being here is enough." she confessed. A smile tugged at her lips as she added, "And let's be honest, I make a damn good cake. I would have done that anyway." The lightheartedness in her tone elicits a laugh from Joel, his head shook in amusement as he dropped her hand.

A soft sigh escaped his lips. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards; a tender smile formed as he looked at her.

He nodded, conceding to her words with a mock reluctance. "Yeah, alright," he huffed as his gaze shifted down to the spread of food laid out before him on the table.

As she stood to take the flowers into the kitchen, Joel continued, "I've cleared my plans for next weekend," he said, a note of excitement in his voice. "We're going to hit that hiking trail I've been talking about. It's got a real nice river and views."

She chuckled to herself as she filled a vase with water and placed the flowers inside, their vibrant colors adding warmth to the room. Hearing his mention of the weekend plans, she decided to tease him a little. "I actually already have plans," she called out from the kitchen.

As she returned to the dining table, carrying the vase of flowers in her hands, she noticed the disappointment etched onto Joel's face. His expression mirrored a mixture of surprise and a touch of hurt, realizing that she had other plans for the weekend.

Without him.

She set the vase of flowers down in the center of the table. Then, she took her seat across from him. Her movements were slow and deliberate, prolonging the anticipation. A playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she met his gaze.

She began to dish their dinners and she smiled to herself as she spoke. "You see," she began, her tone lighthearted, "there's this guy who forgets everything under the sun." She paused, letting the words sink in as she met his gaze, a playful sparkle in her eyes. "I had a feeling he would forget today. That he'd be all mopey about it and try to make things up by taking me away for the weekend. So, I already planned to spend my weekend with him."

Joel's eyes settled on her and his smile radiated with adoration. The look on his face was almost reverent, his gaze softened with love and appreciation. The corners of his lips tugged upward and his heart felt fuller than ever before, grateful for her understanding and patience with him.

“I love you, you know that right?” He asked.

 Without hesitation, she responded, her voice filled with unwavering certainty.

"I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life."

Hand in hand, Joel led the way as he guided her along the path. Her gaze, however, was fixed on the ground at her feet. He had teased her multiple times, telling her that she was missing out on the scenic views by looking down all the time. However, she couldn’t help it—the fear of tripping over a rock or root made her keep her focus on the ground.

He had helped her regain her balance each time, his hand steadied her as she stumbled. But by the fifth time, the teasing ceased. Replaced with a more protective, watchful gaze.

The afternoon sun was high, casting a warm glow over the landscape as they reached the river. The grass beneath their feet was soft and lush, and the tall trees provided a shady canopy overhead. The air was filled with the melodic tunes of birds, singing their hearts out, while playful rabbits darted amongst the colorful flowers.

She was at a loss for words, her eyes widened as she absorbed the breathtaking view around them. As he released her hand and continued walking, she stayed still for a moment, mesmerized by the natural beauty of their surroundings. It was only when he placed a blanket on the grass and began unloading food from his bag that she snapped out of her reverie, drawn to join him.

The sunlight glinted on his skin, and his eyes sparkled with mirth as he looked up at her, a wide smile stretched across his face. "I had to fight off Tommy this morning," he chuckled, a hint of playful exaggeration in his voice. "He came over hungover and drooled at the sight of all the food.”

She laughed and took her seat beside him. The contagious nature of his smile spread to her own lips.

They sat beside each other; their shoulders gently pressed together. Their conversations flowed easily against the backdrop of the rushing water and the gentle breeze. Their gazes danced back and forth between the flowing river and each other's eyes. An intimate atmosphere filled with stolen glances and warm smiles.

Joel's voice broke the comfortable silence as they strolled along the riverbank, stomachs full. "I really am sorry," he said, his eyes fixed on the water's edge as they walked together.

She moved closer to him, their fingers laced together as she gently nudged his shoulder with hers. A soft smile graced her lips as she hugged his arm. “I know." she said, her voice gentle and understanding. "But I was never upset with you."

“You should have been.”

“Would you have been upset if I forgot your birthday?” She asked.

“Well, no-”

Her voice was soft and comforting as she spoke, her cheek pressed against his arm, her gaze fixed on his face. "Then don’t stress yourself over it," she said, a gentle understanding smile played on her lips. "The only person who’s upset about you forgetting, is you."

His smile was subtle, barely visible on his lips as he nodded in acknowledgment of her words. There was a hint of relief in his eyes, as if a small burden had been lifted.

“I just want to do better by you.” He sighed, a shrug of his shoulders.

A buzz in her pocket grabbed her attention, pulling her gaze away from Joel and onto her phone. She pulled it out and stared down at the screen, her focus shifted from the man beside her to the message on her phone.

Sarah: Tried calling dad. Phone’s dead AGAIN. Got me thinking the two of you have fallen down a cliff or drowned or something. Sarah: also can you ask him to get juice on his way home PLEASE? Tommy drank it all

 She shook her head; a small huff of laughter escaped her lips as she glanced up at Joel.

Of course his phone was dead, she thought.

“How about we take small steps to being better, and I know just how to start you off.” She said as she poked his arm.

He hummed.

“And what would that be babe?”

“Charge your phone, Sarah thinks you’re dead.”

Joel cursed under his breath. His expression turned into a frown as he patted his pockets. He muttered that he must have left his phone back at the car.

Her lips curled into a smile as she stealthily lifted her phone and snapped a picture of Joel, capturing his grumpy expression as he searched for his missing phone.

She sent the photo to Sarah.

Here’s a photo of your very much alive dad realizing that not only is his phone dead, but back in the car. Sarah: He’ll never change Sarah: I love him.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she read Sarah's message. A pang of affection and adoration filled her chest as she gazed back at Joel, still on the quest to find his misplaced phone.

She slipped her phone back into her pocket and reached out, taking hold of his hands. His grumbling continued like a low murmur in the background, the annoyance at having forgotten his phone still fresh in his mind. In response to his frustration, she gently but firmly gripped his hands, bringing his attention back to her.

Her voice was soft but firm as she told him, "I love you so much." She meant it with every fiber of her being. She loved his flaws, quirks, and imperfections with unwavering affection. She loved him completely, without reservation and with every ounce of her heart.

His response was sincere, his voice filled with warmth and affection as he replied, "I love you too." There was a visible shift in his demeanor as his shoulders relaxed, a weight lifted from the weight of his disappointment. He held her gaze, his own eyes met hers, and in that moment, she knew he saw the depth of her love reflected at him.

Despite his repeated forgetful blunders, no matter how many birthdays he managed to forget, she knew that as long as he loved her, she wouldn't hold it against him. She understood that his forgetfulness didn't diminish his feelings for her. In fact, his efforts to make it up to her only strengthened her belief in the depth of his love. It was a testament to their connection, a reminder that even if he weren't the perfect planner, his love was unshakable and unwavering.

She was sympathetic to his guilt and the weight of disappointment when he let others down. She knew how much he prioritized making the people in his life happy. That's why it was impossible for her to be upset with him. He was trying his best, and that counted for everything in her eyes. She understood his innate need to please others, and she would rather support and reassure him than hold his forgetfulness against him.

Because she loved him with everything.

And he, loved her more.

EXTRA

SARAH POV

Sarah had written the date on various notes and stuck them around the house where she knew he would see them. He didn’t see them, oblivious to them, actually. She thought sticking one on the coffee machine was the perfect place, but she should have known that her dad would miss his alarm again and end up getting a coffee on the way to work instead.

She had set an alarm to remind him in his phone too, only for his phone to be dead before he even left for work. 

She instead spent her Saturday picking flowers from their yard and bundled them into a bouquet for when her dad got home and began to freak out. She made little origami animals and left the box next to the flowers on the dining table and waited for her dad to get home.

He had come home that night, a deep sigh as he walked through the door. She didn’t need to see him to know what his face looked like when she called out it was his girlfriend’s birthday today. She heard him swear, heard his keys drop to the floor and the telltale sound of him patting his pockets to find his phone. She heard him swear again and then the front door opened and closed. She smiled to herself when he ran into the kitchen, mumbling that his phone is flat and asking her where a charger was as he digs through a bits and pieces bowl on the kitchen counter. Sarah casually held the charger in her hand and he thanked her five times. She pushed the present she made and the flowers and she could see the guilt in his face as he took them. He promised he would take her out for dinner and that movie she’s been nagging him to go see with her. 

She texted Tommy if he was free to hang out with her next weekend because she knew that her dad would take his girlfriend out for a weekend away– she had been purposefully talking about that hiking trail after all. 

And when her dad’s phone went straight to voicemail while he was away, she knew she should have found his phone and put it on charge for him. 

She didn’t mind doing any of this, they were a team after all.

Notes:

hehe it's my birthday, big old 24!

[tomatopers]

❝ I'm. . . late?! ❞

in honor of me also forgetting vday :,) here is my first post for this acc !! I also need to remember to make an intro post n stuff, and hopefully i'll make some friends on here eventually </3 i see ppl interacting with their anons/followers and it's sooo cute when will that be me !!!!

They forgot Valentine's Day... surely the nineteenth is just as special? Diluc, Zhongli x GN!Reader (separate)

Diluc watched you silently from a window, the sunny scene outside feeling worlds away from his own dim office. You were sitting on the stone wall surrounding the Dawn Winery, pretending to read one of his boring novels while pointedly ignoring him. He was very often unaware of his stumbles, this being his first relationship, but wouldn't he would catch on soon enough?

Sure it was immature to still act huffy at this age, but Valentine's day was 5 days ago! Not one! FIVE! You had to witness Lisa flirting with the Acting Grand Master for hours, which wasn't uncommon in the slightest, but the librarian seemed to make use of all her cheesy lines on the holiday.

The stone was frigid beneath your bare legs, and you were reminded that the sun hadn't yet begun to do its job this early in the month as your legs grew numb. Perhaps on this fifth day of snubbing your lover, you'd spend the night at a bar- maybe even in Venti's company, or Kaeya's. That last ditch effort to get him to notice your huffy behavior never failed.

The worst part of this whole affair was that you couldn't even be disappointed or properly upset in peace. How could you, when this was clearly not an intentional mishap? Diluc worked diligently, and was far more dependable than most; Though, this trait of his only served to deepen your guilt. Perhaps you should apologize for this childish behavior... Maybe talk it out like proper adults...

6 o'clock found you on a barstool at Angels' share, a little early for drinking but the glass in your hand was clearly not your first. Kaeya sat to your right, an arm resting on the counter as he lent an ear to your woes. Venti stood to your left, strumming his lyre quietly and pitching in jests during the quieter moments.

The door opened at 7 on the dot, and you turned around despite knowing who stood behind you. The backlighting of the evening sun made his hair glow like fire, exaggerating the irritation on Diluc's face to resemble anger. You stood up, slightly tipsy but no less aware, and grasped Kaeya's shoulder to steady yourself before walking forward.

"Good evening, Master Diluc. What brings you here so early?" He seemed to glare at you before casting a glance at Charles. The bartender visibly jumped, quickly bowing a greeting before averting his eyes as Diluc grabbed your wrist and tugged you out of the bar. His grip, though firm, wasn't the slightest bit painful- even now, in whatever bitter mood he was in, Diluc always treated you with the utmost care.

You felt even more guilty for acting the way you did.

He released his hold on you in a more private space, tucked behind a couple trees, and waited. Just as you knew he would seek you out immediately after work, he knew you'd soon crumble under his stare and explain what you wanted. Those red eyes, sometimes blazing with anger or warm with love, were now passive and unreadable.

"Well?"

You felt heat behind your eyes, feeling the tears before they could escape down your cheeks. How stupid. It was hard to form a sentence between sniffles, so you stood and cried as he enveloped you in a hug. Maybe you had more than a few drinks back at the bar...

When your tears were all but spent, you gripped his hand in embarrassment, unable to meet his gaze. "...I'm sorry."

"What for?"

You sighed, "I've been such a child about this, it honestly wasn't even that important yet I-"

"If it bothered you, then it's important. To me."

There it was again, the ever chivalrous Diluc and his overflowing compassion when it came to you. Despite the temptation to lie and play it off, you sheepishly admitted, "It's just that, uh- a few days ago, it was Valentine's day... and we didn't really um- celebrate together... But! It's okay! You do so much already and I honestly don't need to do anything for some silly holiday when we can do stuff like that any day and.."

Looking up, you trailed off into a confused silence. Diluc's face was red, and he was the one now avoiding your eyes. "I'm- My apologies. I admit, it did slip my mind, but that is no excuse. It's more than a silly holiday, and as such, I would be honored if you would allow me an attempt to make it up to you." You burst out laughing, and he looked relieved. You really had no reason to be upset, not with this cute of a lover.

"I would allow you all the attempts possible, Mr. Ragnvindr. All the attempts and more." He smiled and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as you followed him out of the alley. "Shall we visit that famous traveling chef then, darling? I heard he's in town. Or the Good Hunter, for something casual? Or perhaps we could buy you one of those gorgeous necklaces they have at the-"

You pulled him in by his collar, feeling him stiffen at the kiss before relaxing. "Diluc, sweetheart, I was thinking something closer to home? I can make dinner, and," you gestured at the setting sun, "the night is still young, I'm sure we can have some... fun, in that great big house of yours."

He turned an even brighter red, trying to cover his blush with the hand you weren't holding. "...That would be perfect."

It was rarer for Zhongli to go a day without speaking to you than it was for him to remember his wallet. That's why it was evident to even those around you that there was something amiss. You worked at a teahouse, and that just happened to be where Zhongli's favorite tea was sold. When you weren't working, you'd help out at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, or stroll with him along the boardwalk. Plenty of time together, to say the least.

When the regulars witnessed you not serving the consultant's tea, as you always did, it immediately became a source of chatter- Some of the older women were having quite a laugh about young lovers' quarrels, though your relationship with Zhongli was far past the "young love" stage. As you walked from table to table, it was hard to ignore his stare practically burning holes through you.

The first whole hour of his visit must've passed this way; your every movement under the scrutiny of the ex-archon, your coworkers, and half the guests in the teahouse. Your work wasn't any different than usual, no. In fact, you might even be more productive now that you weren't stopping to chat with Zhongli whenever your hands were free. The owner of the place would never admit it, but he too was curious of the predicament under his roof.

Your scheduled break was minutes away, the one you would typically spend at Zhongli's table, but you clearly didn't intend to do so today. For a being such as him, it was inevitable that certain things would slip his mind, but Valentine's Day? You had planned out the entire day as a surprise, the holiday had even fallen on one of Zhongli's leisure days, but he called in the morning to tell you he'd be assisting the Traveler and would not come by. It wasn't even a brief task! He was gone for five days!

It wasn't like you hadn't told him anything, either. "Oh illustrious Rex Lapis, God among men, I beseech your presence in my humble abode on the final day of this week." He had chuckled at your attempt of mimicking the speech of those who cowered before him in his days of glory, taking your hand with a smile and a kiss. It was going to be perfect! But the plans were discarded, and the cake you made still sat untouched in the fridge...

Xingqiu walked in with his usual cheerful wave, heading to the back corner where he'd spend a couple hours reading; As though he noticed your restlessness, he smiled and offered you a seat to join him, "I'll take you up on your offer to regale me with the stories from your trip overseas, if I may?" You smiled back, "Of course! I'll bring the tea and join you."

You spent your break with the young man, and the following remainder of the shift passed with ease. At some point, Zhongli had disappeared- had he gotten upset? Most likely not, such a small matter was far from enough to garner his irritation. It was more likely that work had called for his presence. Maybe he'd notice shop owners taking down their holiday wares on his walk and remember his oversight.

You hung up your apron, bidding the staff goodnight before descending the stairs to head home. Someone was standing at the entrance to a darker alley, one tucked away from the streetlights and the watchful eyes of the Millelith. Quickening your pace, you were about to pass by when a voice, his voice, stopped you in your tracks.

"My dear, won't you tell me what has drawn your ire?" Zhongli stepped forward, his confused expression revealing his failure to decipher the issue alone. "I am unaware of any shortcoming, but I assure you it was far from intentional-"

"..."

He walked closer, "Pardon?" You looked up at him, hoping you didn't look pathetically sad. "It was Valentine's Day, the day you left for that trip with the Traveler. That's why I had invited you over." His face fell, his immediate regret making it nigh impossible to retain your frustration. "I will not make any excuses, beloved, it was entirely my fault that we could not celebrate such a wonderful day together-"

"It was, yes."

"-and I believe I grasp the value of celebrating love with a romantic partner, so while it won't compare, please join me for dinner tomorrow, where I can properly demonstrate my affections. I recall you liking when I cook, and surely such a thing is enjoyable together."

You pretended to consider the matter, before laughing and accepting his outstretched hand. "I would love to join you, and I hope I may occupy your time through the night as well." You saw his gaze sharpen for a moment before he swept you off your feet and into his arms.

"If I didn't know any better, my love, I'd think you were trying to tempt me."

"Whatever gave you that idea, darling?"

Without setting you down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I believe you wouldn't protest to spending tonight together, as well?" You could feel the laughter rumbling through his chest, could see the smile splitting his face even with your face hidden behind your hands from the embarrassment. "My most adorable lover, I shall never again miss an opportunity to exhibit the extent of my affection for you."

[cloudysonder]

In Response to Criticism of Loser, Baby

According to the yt comments under prime's upload of Loser, Baby, apparently some folks are taking offense to Husker comforting Angel by telling him he's a loser and to get over it and somehow framing this lovely lovely song as victim blaming??

the media literacy bar really is in hell

I do think the song plays out far better in the context of the show, and isn't really made to be a standalone piece of consumable media, though I will be treating it as such in the coming days by endlessly looping the video

anyway, this is a song that brings comfort and hope to both characters thanks to who each character is and what situation each is in. These are vital pieces of context that are important to understanding the message of the song. It's important to realize one method of comfort is not going to work for every situation-- the particular method in Loser, Baby works because of what the characters are looking for in the moment.

Husk confronts Angel on his self-destructive tendencies, to which Angel responds that drugs, sex, and immediate dopamine hits are his escape, and that, even in the worst case, even if he destroys himself, it'd be better than the situation he's currently in (a suicidal, scary thing to say)

In the previous scenes in the show, we've seen that Angel takes an almost comedic level of pride in his work, eager to drag the gang off to sex dungeons and show them his porn tapes. He delights in how uncomfortable his world makes them and constantly does bits, putting on a character that's hypersexual, that seems like he's in control and wants to be doing the sex work he's doing

This is very clearly an attempt at masquerading a level of power over his life that he doesn't actually have; in reality, he has no choice but to be sexually exploited, but if he acts like he chooses it, it almost feels like he owns his life. Or, really, it almost looks to others that he owns his life. It's all about performance and perception with Angel; he hates the idea of looking like someone who needs saving, hates looking like a victim, and hates being seen as powerless, so he tries to act like he's none of those things. Of course, he can't really lie to himself, so he resolves that inner turmoil (suffering that he completely internalizes because he doesn't want to break his facade) through drugs, sex, alcohol, and even pain as distraction.

Which is why "Loser, Baby," is so fucking wonderful! Husk is telling him, over and over, that he's not fooling anyone, that his little character he's sacrificing so much to play isn't worth it, that Angel's a loser and everyone can tell. If you take his words at face value, it's cruel and unkind and could make things worse--- that is, if this wasn't Husk and he wasn't talking to Angel.

It's freeing. Angel is being told that he doesn't need to do his bullshit performance, that he can be a loser, and that everyone at the hotel's a loser too, so no one's gonna judge him. It's a song about accepting where you are in life, about stopping Angel's denial of reality and refusal of vulnerability.

Most of all, it's a very kind gesture on Husk's part. It wouldn't have worked if Husk hadn't also loudly called himself a loser and opened up about his past mistakes. It's a wonderful song about mutual vulnerability and accepting imperfections and mistakes and accepting that you're in a shitty place so you can finally stop self-destructing and start finding solace in other people also in shitty places.

also it's gay soooooo not too much on my beloved huskerdust

[carolmunson]

it's your party and i'll cry if i want to (sadist!daddydom!eddie x f!masochist!reader)

warnings: smut, 18+, minors dni. sadism/masochism. established relationship. intense spanking with hands and implements. angst. hurt/comfort. daddy kink, some major daddy dom energy from eddie in this one. lots of fluff at the end. some yearning. mild threats. accidental bratting/all around bad attitude from reader. eddie calls reader a 'bitch' outside of a scene. mentions of being on period. name calling: 'stupid' 'bad girl', pet names 'baby, angel, honey, etc'. mild exhibitionism (continuing a scene when someone walks in), YES there is aftercare/communication. anything i might've forgot, i'll add later. i'm sorry!

---

Eddie checked his watch for the third time with an annoyed grunt, elongated and growing in volume as he saw the time. 10:45.

And that would be fine -- that is, if he hadn't asked you to be at his trailer by 10:00 AM.

And being this late would have also been fine if you had called him to let him know you were running late -- like you were supposed to. It was one of the rules he gave you that was the most important to him. Not that he needed to know where you were at all times, he was just always quick to jump to the worst case scenario. 'Oh, she's late? She died. She definitely died. She's bleeding out somewhere alone.'

It didn't help that Eddie's van was in the shop getting fixed up. Sure he could've done it himself but the guys wanted to do something nice for him after all the extra shifts he'd been taking. So lately, he'd been relying on you to get anywhere that wasn't his job.

He hates how you drive, it's the only thing he doesn't like about you.

A few more minutes pass and he hears the familiar crunch of tires over dried leaves, the sharp blaring of your car horn beeping to let him know you were there.

You never do that. You always get out and knock to say good morning, to give him a kiss, to tell him how cute he looks in his outfit. Eddie frowns and opens the screen door, patting his pockets to check for his wallet and keys before closing the main door behind him. He sees you in the driver's seat and can tell you're in a mood so he swallows whatever venom he had collecting on his tongue.

"Morning, sweet thing," he says softly, opening the passenger's side door, "You okay?"

You take the keys out of the ignition and toss them on the seat toward him, "I know you're gonna ask to drive so, here."

You huff when you unclick your seatbelt and get out of the car, grumbling something under your breath that Eddie can't quite make out. He has half a mind to catch you by the chin and ask you to speak up but he shakes out the thought -- he punished you last week, he didn't need to punish you again. At least not yet.

Eddie gets in the driver's seat while you ease into the passengers seat, putting your seatbelt on before he can ask you to. Even though he never wears a seatbelt, so you don't understand his incessant need to make sure you're wearing one.

After he pulls out of the park and onto the road, Eddie settles into the seat catching glances at you when he can.

"Why didn't you call?" he asked, he tried to keep it as light as possible.

"Woke up late, slipped my mind," you shrugged, looking out the window at the orange and bright red leaves.

"I know it might've been a rough morning but you're supposed to call, baby," he turns his head to you, putting a hand on your knee, "I don't appreciate being left in the dark, you know that."

"It's really not a big deal," you mumble, moving your knee out of his hand and keeping your gaze on the Indiana foliage.

"Okay..." he says to himself, putting the spare hand back on the wheel to meet the other.

The first stop on your day of errands before movie night at Eddie's trailer was to the shop so he could check out the van. He didn't mean to be such a stickler about it, but that really was his baby. You stayed in the car while he went in, watching him look back at you with a little wave before he got in the shop.

When he got back, your mood hadn't subsided. He took a deep breath when he opened the door and you greeted him with a "What did you take the whole thing apart and put it back together? That took forever."

"Sorry, babe, they just had a lot to run down with me," he explained apologetically, "Didn't mean to take so long."

"It's really gonna be so nice when it's done though, they redid the carpeting in the back and everything," he tittered, knee bouncing with excitement -- only to have his smile fall when you mumbled a quiet 'yeah whatever' to the window.

Next was the grocery store for snacks and food for the party. You both stepped through the automatic doors in tandem, the scent of cinnamon hitting your noses hard as they had already switched over the Halloween displays for Christmas displays.

"It's October 24th," Eddie laughed, "Are they kidding?"

You just look at the display and then at the aisles ahead of you, walking towards the candy and cookies aisle where you know he'd be headed first anyway.

Eddie shakes it off, something had to be wrong. Maybe you just weren't ready to talk about it yet. You do like having your space, afterall. He catches up next to you, offering his hand for you to hold it and then dropping it to his thigh when you shove your hands into your pockets of your jacket.

He swallows a lump building in his throat. Was it something I said? he thinks to himself.

You get to the junk food aisle, scanning the shelves together and he speaks again, "Thinking about going for a red theme -- I'm thinking vampire movies, stuff that gives off bloody and disgusting. Y'know? Stuff like that."

"Get whatever you want Ed, I literally don't care," you say breathily, defeat and annoyance dripping over the words. His whole body turns to you, less offended and angry, more hurt than anything else. You never just dismiss him like that.

"Hey, hey," he says, soft but surprised. He presses you into the bags of chips puffing past the shelving unit, taking your face gently in his hands, "What's goin' on with you, hm? Did I do something? Are you mad at me?"

"No, Ed," you try to pull your face out of his hands and move but he replaces them on your cheeks swiftly. Your cheeks are hot to the touch -- maybe you're sick?

"Are you tired? Hungry?" Ed pleaded, eyes searching for a glimmer of a happier you in your eyes. You were acting a little hangry, you always were so huffy when you didn't eat enough. He guessed maybe you didn't eat breakfast since you woke up so late -- that had to be it.

"Want me to grab you something here? Or I can grab you something at a drive-thru. Is that what you want?" he's practically begging for you to smile, desperate to see you nod and say sorry -- you're just hungry, you're just tired, you just need a kiss. God, he hadn't even gotten to kiss you yet today.

"Oh my god, Ed, stop -- I'm fine. You're being annoying," you half-whine while pushing past him, "Just get what you need to get so we can go, please."

Ed heaves a big sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before closing his hand into a fist and leaning his forehead on it. You're in public, don't react the way you want to react right now. You just punished her a few days ago, keep your cool.

He opens his eyes and reaches for your keys attatched to his chain, deatching them and tossing them to you.

"Why don't you go wait for me in the car, okay? I won't be long in here," he offers. Maybe you just didn't feel like running errands, maybe you didn't want to go to the grocery store. You had told him once that the lights gave you a headache.

The late October air bites your cheeks when you step outside, savoring the heat in the car when you start it. Some time later, Eddie comes out, gocery bags in his hands that make him look like a Libra scale.

He knocks on the window, "Hey angel, can I get those keys for the trunk?"

You roll down the window just a crack and pass them through, satisfied by the exhausted sigh he lets out when you do it. His patience was starting to wear a little thin. Even more so when you kept changing the radio station so often that he just told you to shut it off and keep it off.

The next and most obvious stop was to Family Video to pick up the tapes for tonight. Eddie stopped for a second to talk to Steve at the counter, keeping his eye on you while you walked through the aisles and shelves of tapes. Robin came out of the back, so pleased to see you — Eddie watched your whole demeanor change. Smiley, happy, reaching out to hug her — toying with her new bracelet, giggling. His jaw clenched.

“You okay?” Steve asks, tapping his arm, “You look like you’re gonna kick Rob's ass.”

Eddie shakes his head to wash the attitude out of his face, “She’s just — she’s been in a mood all day. And all of a sudden Robin makes her happy? I mean, come on.”

“Ladies, am I right?” Steve rolls his eyes and looks over his shoulder at you and Robin. You’re reaching up to grab a case for Misery to read the back, your pinafore riding up and up while you reach. Eddie knows your body, the curve of your ass just hidden by the hem clinging to the fat just under it.

“Let me get it,” Eddie calls over before you put on a show for Family Video. His voice is sharp, making you freeze in place at first. Sinking slowly back onto your feet, you toss him a scowl while crossing your arms.

“I don’t want it anymore, it’s fine,” you mutter, disappearing behind another shelf. Eddie rolls his eyes with a huff, gesturing to you to Steve silently saying ‘See what I mean.’

"Someone's moody," Steve teases loud enough for you to hear.

"Oh my God," they hear you groan, hidden in the aisles.

"Guys, leave her alone," Robin chides, grabbing a box of rewound tapes off the counter, "Everyone's allowed a bad day, y'know?"

"I'm literally here," you snap, stomping out of the aisles, "Can you guys stop talking about me like I'm not here? For fuck's sake. "

"Hey," Eddie warns, his hand falling down on the counter. You close your eyes and let your breath out through your nose.

"Sorry, Rob," you frown, shoulders sulking. Robin shakes her head, making a face to imply that you didn't need to apologize, pulling you into a hug. You know what you're doing by not apologizing to Eddie or Steve, but you can't find yourself to care about the consequences.

Ed takes you by the hand to grab the movies for tonight, shielded by the sterile aisles and the smell of plastic. You hear Robin and Steve talk amongst themselves, the jingle of the bell as customers file in and out.

"Ah, the horror section," you mumble, completely deadpanned, "Never been here before."

Eddie stiffens, he doesn't feel bad anymore. Now he's angry. Now he thinks you're doing it on purpose.

"You wanna get whupped when we get home?" he asks sternly, "Keep it up."

He hopes the threat doesn't fall on deaf ears, but you aren't listening. You just cross your arms and burn holes into the back of his curly head while he picks two movies and tucks them under his leather clad arm.

He smiles at you when he turns around, squishing your cheeks between his finger and thumb, "Y'know, sucks that you have to be so mean 'cause you are awfully cute when you're in a little mood." He can play your game, too.

Ugh, fuck him. You roll your eyes and pull your chin out of his hand, you're like a woman posessed. This bad mood swarming through your body like sludge in your blood stream. You want to be happy, you want to be excited for movie night -- but you're just not. You wanna rip your skin off and scream in the aisles of Family Video. You wanna cause a scene.

At check out, the door opens and a hard gust of cold wind blows through the entry way. It wraps around your bare thighs and knee high socked calves -- you catch a little chill, a small shiver running through your shoulders.

"It's startin'a get too cold to wear these little dresses, baby," Eddie chastises while Steve scans the tapes and enters his employee number into the computer, "You're gonna get the flu."

"The flu's a virus, you can't get it from being cold," you huff, drumming your fingers on the counter. Eddie bites his tongue in his mouth, exchanging a look with Steve while he passes the money for the rentals over to him.

"Learn something new every day, don't we Harrington?" he asks, trying to keep you from bubbling over in front of your friends.

"That's basic high school biology Ed," you snap, venom stinging on your tongue, "No wonder it took you three fucking years to graduate."

"Woah, woah!" Steve's brow furrows, shaking his head, "Yellow flag. Not cool." Of course, a sports reference.

"It's fine," Eddie says quietly, his eyes cast downward, "We'll see you guys later."

He grabs the tapes with one hand and your sweatered bicep in the other, wrenching you out of the store to the car. He tosses the tapes in the back seat, peeling out of the parking lot with a screech.

You're silent on the road, not even the radio on to soften the tension, both fuming -- buzzing with anger. Eddie reaches for the cigarette tucked in his ear, hiding behind his long messy curls. It sits between his full lips, dangling while he searches for his lighter. You hear the flick and wait for him to take the first inhale, your teeth grind together so hard you swear he can hear it. Time, and time, and time again you had told him -- "Jesus Christ. Not in my fucking car, Ed."

You pluck the cigarette out of his mouth and toss it out the crack in your window.

Eddie slams on the breaks and you both jostle forward at the impact, the squeal of the tires echoing through the empty road. He turns to you with wild eyes, incredulous, "Are you on the fucking rag or something?!"

You don't respond, instead you cross your arms tighter around your chest and look out the window. You avoid his angry look, your heart pounding, knowing his is too.

"We're going home," he mutters, pulling a u-turn and heading toward the backroads that lead to the trailer park.

"No, no, you still wanted to stop at Melvald's for paper plates, and decorations," you offer quietly.

"Well maybe if you'd been such a bitch, I would've gotten to run all my errands," he explains, frustration bubbling in his chest. He swallows the lump building in his throat again. He didn't mean to call you a bitch, he's never called you that outside of play. But fuck did you have to bring up how hard it was for him to graduate?

"We can still," your voice lilts, going up an octave, "It doesn't have to be ruined."

"We are going home," he says with finality, eyes glued to the road. You can beg with your soft voice all you want, he's had enough today.

The both of you continue the ride back to Eddie's trailer in silence, just his and your shuddering breaths breaking through every now and again. You knew what you were in for when you got in the door, and part of you knew you deserved it -- but another part thought maybe, if you were sweet enough, he'd change his mind.

He pulls in with a quick turn, tires skidding in the dead grass wet with frost. You roll up your window and open the door, watching as Eddie reaches back to get the tapes out of the back. You step lightly to the trunk, waiting for him to come around with the key so you can bring in the groceries.

"Oh, you wanna be helpful now?" his voice is bitter, "You're a brat all day and now that you're in trouble you wanna be nice?"

You pout, just a little. Watching his hands as he unlocks the trunk and it eases open. As you reach for the grocery bags he swats them away, "I got it."

"Fine," you sneer, marching toward the door, "You got it."

"Oh-ho-ho, you just wait darlin'," he smiles while he slams the trunk closed, but it's the smile he does when he can't contain himself. When his hands are vibrating. When he wants to yell but can only laugh. Bar fights at The Hideout, blow out arguments with Wayne, when the gas station clerk calls him a freak.

Now it was you.

He walks past you, groceries and tapes in hand, fishing out his keys to open the door -- the door squeaking open. The sound of it mocks you because you know what's to come when it clicks closed.

Eddie puts the bags down on the table in the kitchenette, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on one of the chairs. You stand by the closed door, the leather of the belt hanging next to the door frame taunting you.

Eddie takes his time to put the groceries away, leaving out the chips and other snacks he picked up. He'd put them in bowls later for the set up. Fuck. He does have bowls or paper plates -- you didn't go to the store.

You watch him go to the phone on the wall in the kitchen, dialing without looking -- you can hear Steve's cheery voice on the other end. "What's up, Ed?"

"How did you know it was me?"

"You're the only person who calls me on my car phone."

"Okay, whatever. Sorry to ask this, but we didn't get a chance to go to Melvald's. Would you be able to pick some stuff up for me?" he asks while keeping eye contact with you. Now you feel bad. Eddie liked hosting movie night, he liked putting up decorations and making it feel like a party. It was something he looked forward to every month when it was his turn and his were always so fun that everyone ended up sleeping over. Now it felt ruined because you just couldn't stop. You couldn't let him have his day.

Eddie says his thank you's when he's done asking for Steve's help and hangs up the phone. He motions you over when he takes the few steps into the living room, sitting on the couch with a groan. You follow solemnly, standing across the room from him.

"Didn't I just have to punish you last week?" he asks while inching forward on the cushions, legs spread wide in front of him, "I mean, jesus baby girl, you're really just askin' to get whupped these days."

Daddy's home. Eddie always ended up adopting a mix of his co-worker's Hoosier accent and Wayne's slight southern drawl when he stepped into that role. Always coming out when maybe you needed to really learn a lesson. Whenever the brat came out to play without him asking for it.

It was your least favorite game -- not because you didn't like it necessarily, but Eddie relied heavily on making sure you were embarrassed. He wasn't mean. He was mocking. He liked how it made you feel, he liked how you turned red when he called you his baby. How your stomach turned when he put you over his lap. So rudimentary, but deeply effective. Somehow, getting spanked by his hand like this hurt more than anything else.

"C'mere," he says, waving you forward, "Come to daddy."

Your heart sinks and flutters simultaneously -- suddenly it's unbearibly hot in his trailer despite the light frost on the ground outside and your bare knees under your corduroy pinafore.

"Ed...c'mon, people are coming over," you say quietly, toying with the hem of your dress, "Can't you punish me later?"

"After you ran that mouth all day? After you showed up here late this mornin' and didn't even call? You broke all my rules," he scolded, "Get over my lap, sweet thing, gotta teach you."

"Please," you whisper, your glassy eyes meeting his, "I'll be good the rest of the night, I promise."

"That gives you way too much leeway. You'll start thinkin' you can get away with everything. You know what they say: spare the rod, spoil the child," he shrugs, "And you're so spoiled as it is. Aren’t you, baby?"

You nod, shifting your weight on your feet. Your skin crawls at the lilt in his voice; you can feel him getting impatient with you.

"So why doesn’t my spoiled little thing come over here and take her punishment, hm?"

You know if you don’t go over there, he’ll make you. His demeanor is so different when he’s like this, so sweet — cooing at you, gentleness even when he’s talking down to you. A soothing balm to help make you feel small, stupid, and needy. Like you can’t do anything without his guidance. He plucks at your emotional set backs as nimbly and expertly as he does his guitar.

“No, I think that’s too hard for you, baby. I'll figure it out.”

“Was that too difficult for you to understand? Why don't we try again.”

“I think you need a break, why don't you let Daddy take care of everything?"

"Let daddy do it for you. You need to learn when to ask for help when you need it."

"We can talk about it when you're not acting like such a little brat, okay?"

You inch over and slide over his lap and even though you know it’ll hurt, it’s so comfortable to let go for him. To let him teach you a lesson. To let it out on the couch cushions in the form of fat tears and whines and screams. Kicking your legs and squirming.

“There’s my good girl,” he murmurs while you get situation on top of him. eddie let’s a warm hand slide over your thigh before pushing your dress up over your hips to your waist, "Knew she was still in there."

Ed takes a moment to admire the softened bruises on your ass when he gathers your panties at the base of it, finally in their last stage of healing from last week's play time. Maybe he could afford to go harder than he expected. Excellent news for him, awful news for you.

“You don’t have to count out loud to me today, angel. Don't think you can count that high,” he teases, calloused hand smoothing over your ass before coming down hard over it with a loud smack ringing in the living room of the trailer.

“Ah-ow!” you yelp, his over the knee spankings just hurt a little bit more than anything else. Maybe it was the embarrassment of the position, the way he played with your mind a little before hand. Something about the crack of his palm against you when you felt dizzy like this was a different type of pain.

What a shame that you loved it so much.

“You know you deserve this, baby,” he says softly, “I don’t like to punish you, but I gotta keep you in line. You really embarrassed me today.”

“M'sorry, daddy,” you frown into the couch, hips jumping at the next strike. A warm little buzz forming on your backside while he continues.

"Are you?" he asks, his hand smacking especially hard against the swell of your ass. The first choke of a sob escapes your chest and he hums with satisfaction, "You don't sound sorry."

"I think daddy's gonna make you very sorry, though," he threats. Eddie takes his time switches his rings over to the hand he's using to spank you, knowing it just adds injury to even more injury. He smiles to himself when you squirm at the feeling of the metal skating across your warm skin.

"Don't like that?" he asks. You shake your head no and he 'tsks' above you, letting his fingers slide between your legs, "You sure?"

"Mmm," is all you can reply, feeling hazy and spacey under his touch. Your stomach tightens at his finger tips grazing your folds, presing slightly to get between them, a pool of slick welcoming them immediately.

"I think you do like that," he whispers headily. Eddie takes his fingers away, eliciting a wanting whimper from you, his chuckle was daunting.

His hand smacks upward and downward on one cheek, then the other, in a consistent rhythm. One, two, three, four, one, two, three four. Hard, sweeping spanks making a bloom of color spread over your skin more and more as he went. He does this for who knows how many minutes, as many as it takes for your legs to start kicking. For the color in your skin to fall to an angry crimson.

"Here we go with the dramatics," Eddie tutts, catching your ankles with his free hand, "What might happen if you don't stay still?"

You rack your brain and he isn't patient, raining down smacks in quick succession on your left butt cheek and then your right. The skin burning underneath his hand.

It comes to you hazily, what he says over and over again when you move around too much -- too many spots that could cause damage if he hits them instead, "I could get hurt," you whine out.

"Good girl," he coos, "Look at you, trying your best to remember -- my stupid little thing."

You can't help but pout at the dig, pouting more when his hand starts up their symphony again.

"Daddy, please," you cry, your hand reaching out to cover your ass, "Please no more."

"Excuse me," he hisses, spare hand now coming up to press your wrist against your back, "You earned this. Be a big girl and take it."

Your face burns when he admonishes you, embarrassment washing over your body. You can't help but struggle against him but he pulls you tight in place, steadying you before he starts again, "Behave."

You can feel Eddie's erection building against your hip, your mouth filling with spit at the thought of it. Maybe he'll fuck you if you just let him get through this part, he usually does. You're still playing afterall, this is just punishment -- you earned this.

Eddie continues, grunting with each stinging hit, as much force as he can into it. His tongue swells in his mouth when it watches the fat of your hips and ass bounce back at his assault. This was a show exclusively for him, the best part about impact play. You know, outside of the crying, and whimpering, and your shining wet pussy between your legs. And the power, fuck. Don't even get him started on the high of all that power and control.

Tears are streaming down your face, mixing with the strings of snot oozing from your nose. You look a mess, just like he wanted and just like he knew you would.

His smacks slow down to one every few seconds, like the end of a popcorn bag in the microwave, before smoothing his hand over your vibrating flesh.

"That was a good warm up, huh?" he asks. Your face pales.

"Wh-what?" you sob out, looking back at him. He smiles, his wolfish 'Master' smile, devilish.

"That was a good warm up, wasn't it angel?" he coos, nails softly grazing your thighs, making you hiss.

"Warm up?" you ask, eyes shining and round. He maneuvers you off his lap, steadying you while your jellied legs find some footing.

"You thought you were gettin' off that easy?" he asks, in that same soft voice, "That's cute."

You pout but it doesn't help, he pushes back on the couch and crosses his legs. Eddie's looking up at you but it still feels like he's looking down.

"Go get the paddle, baby," he instructs, "You know which one."

You swallow hard, shoulders shaking, "But why?"

"Because I said so," he says it like you're stupid. You feel stupid. You feel small.

You trudge to the bedroom and back to the livingroom with the paddle in hand: wooden and carved with holes. Beyond pain on it's own, extra painful with a warm up.

You reluctantly pass it to him and feel sick at how fucking hot it looks in his hand. With a sniffle and bite of your lower lip, you lay back down across his lap, bending at the waist, your toes meeting the floor in your socked feet.

He adjusts your underwear, pulling them back up to cover you, the elastic scratching uncomfortably on you, "How about we keep these on for this part? Does that sound good?"

"Yes," you shudder out, even though it doesn't make a difference. The cotton is so thin.

"What do you say?" he asks, sliding the paddle across your thighs.

"Thank you, daddy," you mumble into the cushion.

"What was that?" he asks, "Gotta speak up."

You know he heard you, he just wants to hear you say it again.

"Thank you, daddy," you say more clearly.

"Still can't hear you," it comes out like a song and the paddle comes sound with a loud SMACK across your thighs.

"THANK YOU, DADDY," you cry out, tears springing from your eyes. The air gets trapped in your throat, sputtering while you try to steady your breath. He gives you a moment to collect yourself, extra careful to check if you're too far gone to know how to tell him to stop.

"We're gonna do twenty, okay?" he asks, "Think you can do that?"

"Yes, sir," you sniffle out, head hanging.

"Twenty's good right?" he asks, you nod, "How come?"

"S'what I d-deserve," you say to him without thinking, fully obedient now.

"Smart girl," he coos, placing the paddle next to him so he can slide a finger into your panties, "Very smart girl."

"P-please," you whisper into the couch cushion, you pray he doesn't hear it but you also wish he would. You hear his pleased hum when his finger tip meets your soaked opening again, pushing further into you. He pumps it into you lazily, enough to watch your hips writhe in time against him -- but it's just not enough.

You know better than to ask for more, not letting more than a disappointed whimper out of your mouth when he takes it away.

“Maybe later, yeah?” he asks, voice mocking your wanton whines, “If you’re a good girl?”

You simply nod, bracing yourself when you hear him pick up the paddle again. Down it comes without warning, knocking the wind out of you once again. The pain shoots down your legs and up your back in in a shivering sting. You cry loudly, blubbering inconsolably into your forearms resting on the couch. This is what he wanted to hear. Thank god the windows were closed.

"Want you to think about this --" He grunts when he brings the paddle down again, "-- when you think about running that mouth to me."

He waits for the pain to almost stop reverberating in your body to bring down the next blow. Eddie never let you take a full breath between blows when you needed to learn something.

"When your in one of these moods you--" the next strike of the paddle elicits a near scream out of you, racked with tears, "-- talk to me about it before you start gettin' mean. You hear me?"

"Y-yes-s-s-s," you sob.

"Are you sorry?" he asks, the next strike is over your thighs.

"I'm sorry!" you yelp before falling back into shuddering cries, "So so sorry, I'm sorry."

He continues on without reprieve: 6, 9, 12, 14 -- or was it 13? -- you're not even counting -- you're not sure if you can count at this point. Your eyes have gone glassy, you're crying so hard that you're drooling.

The sound of a knock at the door takes you out of your haze for a moment but you don't feel Eddie's body tense, he just calls out, "It's open!"

You hear the door open and immediately reach for the hem of your dress to push it down, but Eddie's mean laugh and swat of his hand puts you back in place.

"Hey, they didn't have pumpkin paper plates but they had ghosts and I thought maybe that would be f-- oh," Steve stops with the plates in his hand, looking you both over, eyes lingering briefly on your reddened ass and thighs.

"Sorry to interrupt."

"You're fine," Eddie rolls his eyes, "You can put it all on the counter. Thanks so much, man. Let me know what I owe you."

Steve shakes his head with a little laugh, leaving the bags on the counter full of plates, napkins, and decorations. Listening to you whimper in the other room. Steve had been plenty privy to whatever you and Ed were getting up to. All of the older group was. The first time you showed up to a group hang with bruises was when you both had to come clean immediately -- there were hardly any secrets between the five of you anyway.

Plus, Steve liked learning new things.

Eddie doesn't mind the audience, bringing the paddle down again with new vigor. You try desperate to hold in the cry in your chest but it breaks when he speaks to you.

"What baby, you embarrassed?" Eddie coos, "You didn't have a problem embarrassing me in front of Steve earlier. Just returning the favor."

"You wanna tell him why you're gettin' punished?" he asks, one hand smoothing over your back while the other brings the paddle down again. You shake your head no, embarrassment washing over you in heavy waves knowing Steve is watching you get punished like a school girl.

"I think you should," Eddie continues, "Think it'll help the lesson sink in."

You know you don't have a choice, so you lift your head up mumbling weakly, "Because I was a bad girl."

"Little louder so Steve can hear," he encourages.

"Because I was a bad girl," you repeat. Your face was fuming with a deep blush.

"There we go," Eddie soothes to you quietly, "I think you had enough, sweet thing. Why don't you go wait for me in our room?"

You swallow, ignoring the shooting pain in your backside while you scramble off his lap and down into the hall to the bedroom.

Eddie turns towards Steve while you scurry away, "At least she's self aware."

"At least." Steve agrees, cheeks reddening, "Look I gotta go pick up Elaine, her sister took the car so she can't get over here. I'll probably be around when everyone else shows up though."

"So she's finally her real name and not just 'some girl'?" Ed asks, surprised.

Steve blushes, "Yeah I think she's gonna stick around for a while. She's been um -- really receptive to some new stuff we've been tryin' out."

"Well you're learning from the best, so," Eddie cockily meets his cheek to his shoulder.

"Pfft, okay," Steve rolls his eyes while he walks toward the door, swinging his keys on his fingers, "See you in a little."

Eddie watches him leave, stretching on the couch before getting up and walking slowly over to the bedroom. He slowly opens the door, listening for anything beyond your regular cry or whimper.

"Baby?" he asks, his voice back to normal. There you are on his bed, already in a pair of his sweat pants and a t-shirt. Your pinafore and sweater and socks folded neatly on the end of the mattress. Your makeup stianed face wiped clean with the cold cream and clean face cloths you kept on his dresser.

"Oh, baby," he frowned, "You look so sad."

"I'm sorry," you said, your shoulders curving inward in a sulk, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to take everything out on you today."

"I know," Eddie shuts the door behind him, just in case anyone showed up earlier than expected. He walked over to the bed, barely getting onto it all the way before you found your way onto his lap. Your tear stained face in his neck.

"Do you feel better?" he asked, rubbing circles onto your back and pressing a kiss onto your shoulder. You nod against him.

"I'm sorry," you repeat.

"It's okay," he coos, "I'm sorry, too."

You lean back to look at him and he looks at you with a smile, his big doe eyes warm and crinkling at the ends.

“I love you,” his voice is cozy. Medicine for you bad mood.

“I love you, too,” you respond, leaning in slow while you rest a hand in his cheek. Your lips find home against his and you hear him sigh with relief into it. He deeply reciprocates, mouth desperately meeting yours, hands resting softly in your hair.

“Haven’t gotten to kiss you all day,” he whispers. His next kiss is feverish and needy, pulling you close to him, pressed against his chest.

“I know, I’m sorry. I wanted to, I just…I don’t know,” you explained between breaths.

“S’okay,” he says, leaning back a bit to look in your eyes, “Can we talk about that?”

“Yeah,” you nod, sitting further back on his thighs.

“When we play, or when you make me upset, or if I’m feeling sad or angry - I don’t ignore you, right? I don’t deny you what you want or need unless it’s part of a scene? And even then you can always ask to stop?” he looks hurt when he asks, his hand finding your thigh, giving it a little squeeze.

“No, you always listen. You always communicate,” you say.

“So you have to offer me the same kindness, baby,” he strokes your cheek, “You really hurt my feelings today."

Your eyes water, chest aching, "I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up high school or -- or act like I didn't care about t-tonight, or your c-car. I do care."

"Shh, shh, shh, I know. I know," he soothes, "But when something's bothering you, even if you don't know what it is -- I need you to communicate that to me. So I can try to help."

This isn't the first time you've had to have this conversation and he can see the defeat in your face.

"We're both learning," he says, pressing a peck to your lips and then your forehead, "We'll do it together."

You nod, resting into his soft hands that have now found your cheeks again.

"And I'm sorry I called you a bitch in the car," Eddie says and you know he means it, "I'll never call you that again."

"I mean, you will," you giggle softly. He melts at the sound.

"I will, but in a different context," he giggles with you, another kiss to your lips, "In the way that you like."

You match his posture, putting your hands on his face, pulling him close to you. Another kiss, slow and sensual, pillowy lips capturing eachother's with anticipation for whatever might come later. Clicks of spit exchanging and tongues dancing floating through the room like music -- their own language.

"I love you," he whispers, his forehead pressed against yours.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he repeats. He needs you to know after scenes like that, where you're more vulnerable than normal. A real punishment that might make you forget.

At the same right, he needs you to say it back -- and when you do, he sees stars.

"Let me get you patched up, yeah?" he asks. You nod, laying down on the mattress to let him comfort you after such an assault. Feeling much better now that you had a sore ass and a good talk.

After the normal routine of aloe gel and a massage, you let Eddie get the trailer together for movie night while you took a break in the bedroom. Sometimes you needed a little time alone after a scene before you had to go be around people. Plus, he liked decorating by himself.

You can hear people start trickling in: Steve and his lady, Dustin, Robin, Mike, Nancy, their voices tittering their hellos while the screen door swings. You make your way out, padding down the hall in your socks.

"Hi," you croak out, your voice still scratcy from earlier. Eddie comes over to re-welcome you to the real world, leaving a kiss on your cheek.

Dustin looks at you quizically, "Are you okay? You look sad for movie night."

You shrug, about to speak when Eddie butts in, "She'll be alright, Henderson. She just got in a nasty fight with her dad."

You hear Steve snort in the kitchen and roll your eyes before you smile back at Dustin, "I'm okay, thank you for asking."

Eddie fixes you a plate of snacks while you fix him one. Somehow you still haven't realized that you should just get them for yourselves, but there's something sweet about the neutral need to always be caring for each other.

"More sour straws, you're lacking here Munson," you say at the exchange of plates.

"So true," he agrees, turning back around. The rest of the crew walks in, Lucas making a joke that Steve laughs at -- another snort coming out of his nose.

"You sound like a pig Steve," his flavor of the month Elaine laughs. You watch him smile at her, his eyes a little hard, and subtly reach for her chin. He leans in like he's about to kiss her, but before he does he offers a stern, "Watch your mouth."

Her face blooms with heat when their lips meet and you nudge Eddie in the arm, "What're you teaching him, Ed? He's a nice boy."

Eddie tosses you a sly smirk, "He's not as nice as he looks. I promise."

You take your plate from him, sour straws at the right amount, and take your place on the couch. He plops down next to you while everyone gathers in the living room around the TV.

"Day of the Dead, y'all. Let's get into it," Eddie says. He lifts the remote and presses play, turning out the lights at the switch behind your head. His hand falls to your opposite shoulder, rubbing it absentmindedly while the movie begins.

Your eyes meet breifly in the glow of the TV. He offers you a wink before spreading his lips into his regular award winning smile.

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

So with some of the takes I've been seeing in the Wandee Goodday tag, I wanted to share my perspective.

Just to note - I firmly believe art is subjective and what we see can vary a great deal based on our own perspectives and lived experiences. I'm not calling anyone wrong, I'm just saying this is my personal take on things. (I feel like this should be obvious, but nuance is so often lost online).

And my main goal with watching QL is fun and escapism. I'm here to have a good time. I tend to go with the flow, I like imperfect characters (I even like the fucked-up ones), and I trust the characterization and plot elements to be doing what they need to do until a problem shows within the narrative itself.

Ok, disclaimers done - here's my take on Dee & Yak's interactions around the fake dating idea.

I think all of their interactions are deeply affected by the degree to which they have already developed genuine feelings for each other, but are not yet in a place to admit it, even to themselves.

Do I think Yak has real concerns about being out as a boxer trying to hit a career high? Absolutely. But I think his quick jump to a "let's end this" reaction was mostly a kneejerk attempt to protect himself for what he felt when Dee, the man he is already emotionally connected to, and desperately wants to be able to kiss, dropped a request for fake dating over a real deepening of their relationship.

We don't yet know the level of societal homophobia this show is aiming for, BL land can go many different ways with this, but considering his brother's openness in the gym that he owns, training boxers, there is a tone being set. Yak literally holds hands with Dee in the middle of the street. He doesn't panic when people recognize him at the hospital. This may change, but I'm going to trust the signposts that his career concerns are valid, yes, but are not the dominant issue between them.

Similarly, is Dee competitive and overly focused on winning? Clearly. It's set up in his earlier conversation with Yak for a reason. But at the same time, his insistence that it has to be Yak is not just about his need to win - again, this is about genuine feeling. He wants Yak. This is a way to get Yak, and to frame it to himself in a way that feels less scary and vulnerable, especially after being hurt by Ter.

I know a lot of people saw Dee as being pushy. I do agree with that, and yes it is going to cause more issues for them in the future. But I wish more people also saw Yak holding firm to his boundaries and refusing to give in to the immature behavior from Dee, showing why he's such a good partner for Dee.

And sure, we haven't seen Dee support Yak as much so far, but the scene with the mother and child wasn't there just for kicks. Dee is empathetic and caring, and that will be important in his relationship with Yak as well. He is there for people when things are at their worst.

Some people see Dee on the bridge as being manipulative.

I saw Dee as finally cutting out the toddler shit and being emotionally real about why he's taking the scholarship too seriously, how sensitive he is to what people think of him, why Yak is someone he trusts implicitly, and how he knows it's not Yak's problem and it isn't fair to expect him to fix it.

Some people see Yak as finally agreeing to fake date as showing he is weak to emotional manipulation.

I see a man who has more agency than that. I see a man who is affected by seeing genuine vulnerability both because of how caring he is as an individual, and because of how much he wants a real emotional connection to Dee. And eyes-open, he makes a choice.

These are two characters who have never just been friends with benefits from the beginning. And the narrative has never been about what they are saying. It's about what they are feeling.

[theamberfist]

Leave it all on the Dance Floor! | Alastor x Overlord! Reader

Platonic! Alastor + Best Friend! Reader who's also an overlord.

Description: After seven years, Alastor pays a visit to the territory of his best friend, an overlord with the power to make people dance.

(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of cannibalism) (Part 1 of 5)

"More wine?" A voice beside you asked gently and you turned your head to see your trusted assistant, Joan, standing there with a tray of wine glasses in her hand. Your expression softened at the sight of her but you shook your head.

"No, thanks." You replied with a sigh. You must have been zoning out before because now that she'd gotten your attention, the music playing nearby didn't seem nearly loud enough and you reached over to the speaker on your right to turn up the dial. Joan, a demon that highly resembled a black cat, frowned.

"Not enjoying tonight's party?" She asked with slight disappointment evident in her voice. After all, the two of you had always worked so hard to put on events like this for those living in your Swing Sector. It helped keep their spirits and, therefore, loyalties high despite the fact that their souls were owned by another; or at least, that was the reason you'd always given. In truth, the feline knew there was probably no need to go to such lengths. After all, you were one of the most beloved overlords in the entirety of the pentagram, and most of these sinners had handed their souls over to you willingly.

"I'm just a little tired from the rest of this week." You replied finally before glancing at your demon assistant again with some hope in your eyes. "Any word on my 'special' guests?" Maybe if one of them showed up, you'd find it within yourself to enjoy tonight like Joan wanted you to.

Your hope died a second later, though, when she shook her head. "Zestial and Carmine both politely declined but sent their regards," she explained, "Our other guest gave no response, and it seems Rosie will not be able to attend this evening."

Damnit. There went that plan. You always invited your overlord friends to attend these parties, and usually, three out of four of their answers were always the same. Zestial and Carmilla didn't consider dancing to be their scene, and he hadn't been seen in years, so despite sending word of every gathering, you'd stopped expecting to hear anything back.

But Rosie usually did her best to attend whenever you invited her. She always said how she just loved the chance to spend time with you and you both had gotten more than accustomed to dancing together. She was rather talented at it too, and you'd lost count of how many times you'd won dance contests at these events. She wouldn't have missed one of these if it wasn't totally necessary, so you suspected something important must have come up.

"Susan again?" You asked Joan with a sigh, earning a solemn nod from the catlike demon.

"I'm sure her actions had something to do with Rosie's absence tonight, yes." She told you as politely as possible, not wanting to insult any of your friend's people in front of you, even when she knew how much you hated that one in particular.

"If I see Susan again I'll have to make her regret keeping my friend away from another of our parties," you decided as you took a glass of wine from Joan's tray now, "This is the third month in a row." Joan nodded before slipping away to continue serving wine to the other party attendees and you sighed as you continued sipping wine from your place above the dance floor.

Out in front of you, nearly everyone from the Swing Sector was enjoying their evening. From drinking to dancing to chatting, it was all just how you liked it; the only problem was that in recent years, you'd begun to lose some of your enthusiasm when it came to parties like these.

You knew it had started back when your best friend went away years ago, as ever since, you'd only been losing more and more enjoyment when it came to your daily activities. The worst part was that you didn't even know when- or if- he would be coming back.

Still, as you finished off your glass of wine, you knew you needed to at least try to keep up appearances, despite what you were feeling on the inside. And that, of course, meant going around and mingling with your guests. You set the now-empty glass on a table near where you'd been sitting and then headed off towards the dance floor now, where crowds of people were gathered around.

A small sense of pride filled you at the sight of what they were wearing. Even without having been told to do so, everyone had come donning something originally made by you; the greatest designer in hell (though certain overlords would disagree with that title). Whether the clothes were from your lines years ago or the one that had just come out last month, they all wore outfits personally created by their own stylish overlord.

So at least, if nothing else, you had a well dressed group of people at your disposal.

"There they are!" People exclaimed now that you were up and mingling around, and the crowd quickly parted to allow you to pass them by. There were gasps and aww's as people called your name or waved in your direction. You just smiled back and tried to sport the high amount of power you possessed in the way you moved.

Truthfully, you had been doing the whole overlord thing for a while. You died back in the 1940's when swing dancing had been highly popular, and upon arriving in hell, had quickly swept the pentagram with your combined strength and charisma.

You supposed that was why it had now become your trademark, in addition to fashion. Of all the different types of dance that were out there, swing had always been your favorite, and you were extremely talented at it. As a result, everyone who came under your control would be as well.

"Lovely to see you," you grinned at various party guests, "Glad you could be here!" The first time you'd hosted one of these, you'd required the attendance of everyone in the Poise Sector. By now there was no such thing, and yet the entire sector always turned out for them.

You chatted lightly with some of the people you recognized best and introduced yourself once again to those you didn't; knowing there would be a few new souls at your disposal by the end of the night.

As you turned to the dance floor, though, the sight of it slightly disappointed you. There were people out there, of course; there always were when it came to your sector. But there were so few of them that the space held none of that fun, beautiful energy you'd come to love so much. As much as you didn't feel like dancing tonight, you knew something had to be done about this, and so you headed up to the slightly-raised stage at the end of the dance floor with a sigh.

"Excuse me!" You called to get everyone's attention once you were standing atop it. Instantly, the chatter died down and they all snapped their gazes in your direction. With a grin you placed your hands on your hips like a disappointed mother. "I thought I was clear this was a dancing kind of party!" You exclaimed, "So I'd better see some more bodies on that dance floor; dead or alive!"

Immediately, the space began to fill up as couples made their way onto the dance floor. You smiled at the sight and then stepped down from the stage. That was more like it.

You hated to see a dance floor without lively people on it, which was how you'd found out about your powers in hell in the first place. Upon getting to your first party and seeing no one else dancing, you'd immediately turned up the music and started doing so yourself, only to find that everyone else who heard it seemed to be swept up into your movements as well a moment later. And when you stopped, they'd done the same, as if somehow attached to you and your will. It hadn't taken long for you to realize you were the one making them sway and bop to the music, and of course, you'd been enjoying that ability ever since.

You'd even met your best friend that way; accidentally running into him at one of your nightly outings. At first, he'd been offended by your attempts at forcing him to dance alongside you, but after realizing how much appreciation you had for good music and dance society, the two of you had hit it off pretty quick. Plus, it hadn't hurt that you'd both been from similar time periods.

"Care to dance?" A voice spoke behind you now and you turned to see Joan standing there with her hand extended towards you. Once you recovered from the surprise, your smile widened even more.

"I'd be delighted, darling." You replied as you took her hand and let her lead you onto the dance floor. Things had gotten much livelier now; just the way you liked it.

You weren't even using your powers at the moment; after all, you generally didn't have to in order to get the people of the Swing Sector to do what you wanted. They knew what would happen if they disobeyed, and they respected you too much to do so in the first place.

Joan and your presence only brought the energy up higher; if that was possible. The sight of you dancing near them made people step up their game and if you continued letting things escalate, you knew you would soon have an impromptu dance contest on your hands. That was how it usually went at these parties, anyway, and back in the day, you and your old friend had won many of the little contests together.

But you forced yourself to push him out of your thoughts as you danced with Joan now. You couldn't keep dwelling on that loss; no matter how much it may have hurt you for him to disappear so suddenly and without warning.

Joan seemed to understand where your head was because she threw herself into the moves; twirling and dipping you like her life depended on it. Having danced with the cat demon plenty of times before, you easily kept up with her and even threw in a few of your own accent moves.

The two of you probably danced through about five songs together before you finally paused, letting you both catch your breath in the middle of the dance floor. Joan had a huge smile on her face though, and it proved to be contagious as your own widened through your heavy breathing. After a moment you regained your composure, though the feline was still tired from your first few dances.

You were about to suggest she take a break before continuing when you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. You raised an eyebrow, knowing none of the people in your sector were brave enough to touch you out of nowhere like that; even if you beloved, you were still an overlord.

Whoever it was must have given Joan a look because her eyes widened and she immediately nodded, stepping away from you and through the dance floor.

Ah, so whoever this was had decided to cut in.

You couldn't help feeling a little irritated at that knowledge. After all, you'd already been having a tough night and now as soon as you and Joan had started enjoying yourselves, it had been interrupted. You even considered telling this person off for it.

That was, until you looked up to see their face. If you'd been breathing heavily before, your breath had all but stopped now in realization.

Yellow teeth curved into a huge smile, red eyes, and a pair of small, all-too-familiar antlers sat atop his head. In that moment, you could have cried.

"...Al?" You breathed, seeing his smile widen.

"Pleasure to see you again my dear! It's been quite a while now, hasn't it?" He replied with a carefree tone. Even his voice, with that damned radio filter, sounded just like you remembered.

"Alastor!" You exclaimed so loudly that you were sure even Rosie over in Cannibal Town could hear you. Not waiting another moment, you pulled him into a hug so tight that it could have crushed a someone's bones, had the person in your embrace not been the Radio Demon himself. "It's you!" You couldn't hold back your joy and his smile widened even further, if that was possible, as he hugged you back.

"In the flesh, darling!" By now, the rest of the Swing Sector had gone back to dancing as if nothing had happened. Of course, they were as shocked as you to see Alastor back after seven years, but they knew better than to voice that surprise in the middle of your reunion. There would no doubt be gossip about the circumstances of his arrival and visit later, though.

"Where have you been?!" You demanded once you pulled away from his embrace. Of course, you knew him well enough to know he likely wouldn't give the answer to you straight; he liked hearing theories and speculations way too much for that.

"Oh you know, here and there!" Alastor replied vaguely before glancing around at the other sinners on the dance floor. He kept a smile on his face but glared at the ones currently looking your way, making them immediately turn back to minding their own business. "Now, care to have this dance with me, my dear?"

"Of course." You replied with a grin as you took the other demon's hand, glancing at the various dancing pairs around you. "In fact, I think you may have returned just in time for a dance contest." 

You could already see the competitive sparkle that grew in Alastor's eyes, having won many such competitions with you in the past. As much as you wanted to know where he'd been all this time, you supposed that would have to wait until after the two of you had defended your titles as the reigning swing dancing champions of the Swing Sector. 

"Then we'd better show these sinners how it's done!" The Radio Demon exclaimed with all the enthusiasm you'd come to expect from him. 

As you two danced, you could feel the party's mood begin to liven up. You couldn't get a smile off your face anymore than your best friend could, it seemed, and it had begun to spread to the souls under your control as they stepped up their own dancing game. 

"Now tell me, how have you been since I saw you last?" Alastor asked before twirling you around, "And don't leave out a detail, dear!" You chuckled, knowing there was so much to catch him up on. 

"I've managed," you replied sarcastically, "I have more souls under my command than the last time we met and Swing Sector has been coming along nicely. We even finally put in that diner Rosie and I have been talking about for years!"

"Wonderful!" Alastor exclaimed before glaring at a dancing couple that had gotten a little too close to encroaching on your shared space, "How glad I am to hear that worked out for you!"

"Me too," you admitted, "Some of her people staff the place, along with my own. That way, we have a wide variety of menu items. I bet you'd enjoy the food there!" At this, the deer-like demon nearly smirked. 

"Oh, I'm sure I would," he told you as the song you'd been dancing to ended and a new one began, "Speaking of Rosie, how has she been these past years?" 

"She's a lovely as ever," you said with a smile, "She usually attends over monthly parties but hasn't been able the last couple of times due to...circumstances." At that, Alastor's ears fell back as if he already knew whom it was you were referring to.

"I see..." He replied before regaining his composure and widening his smile again, "Well, I suppose now that I've returned the three of us will have to find a time to catch up again!" 

"Definitely!" You replied with a nod, "And then you can explain to the both of us why you've been gone all this time. I tell ya, we were starting to worry you'd gone and died!" You sent him a playful glare, "But of course I know the great Radio Demon couldn't be taken out so easily. Speaking of, have you let Rosie know you're back in town yet?" 

There was a brief pause in the conversation as he spun you again before you came back to face him. "Al...?" You questioned sternly. The deer demon, still smiling as brightly as ever, simply shrugged innocently (or as innocently as someone like him could). "Al!" You exclaimed now. You would have given his arm a light smack if you hadn't been in the middle of a dance. "I can't believe you just appeared after seven years and you haven't even thought to tell her you're back in town!" 

"I plan to inform her shortly," Alastor replied dismissively, "But make no mistake, darling, I've only returned today, and you're the very first person I came to!" That made your expression soften a bit. 

"Really?" You asked, only for him to nod in response. 

"Of course!" Before Alastor could go on, the song picked up and you knew it would be drawing to a close soon. He seemed to realize it too because he turned to you and you nodded in confirmation. From there, you both picked up the pace and gave it your all; showing off for all the new-in-town sinners who thought they had even a sliver of a chance at winning this competition. 

Leading the steps, Alastor seemed to have disregarded everyone else's places on the dance floor now as you two moved across it. Finally, the song started to come to a close and he timed one final spin perfectly so that he'd dipped you dramatically as it ended. 

There, you paused for a brief second before the entire dance floor erupted into applause. Smiling, you stood up straight and brushed yourself off, knowing you and the Radio Demon had once again won this competition. 

"Still got it, I see." You smiled towards the deer demon as the two of you took your bows. 

"Of course!" Alastor replied cheerfully, letting go of your hand now to adjust his coat. "How could I call myself your friend if I'd let my dancing skills diminish over the years?" You rolled your eyes but a smile was still evident on your face as you pulled him into a hug again. 

"I'm really glad you're back, Alastor." You said seriously now, taking note of how all the people around you suddenly seemed to find the ground and sky much more interesting than your display. Good; they knew better than to be nosey about their overlord's dealings and relationships. 

"As am I." Alastor replied before finally pulling back to look you in the eyes, "I must say, I've missed you a great deal all this time!" You chuckled now before turning to see Joan signaling to you that it was getting late and that she would be in your boutique nearby if you needed anything. With how much time you always spent in the place, it had become your home by now, and the whole second floor had been converted to a living area. Joan, being your closest supporter, always made sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed before leaving you for the night. 

"Come on," you told Alastor now, nodding towards the boutique. "We can have tea, and then maybe I'll consider designing you some new clothes. It's been seven years after all; don't you think it's time for a little update?" 

"I trust your judgement," Alastor replied as his smile widened. You headed for the boutique and he followed after you, taking in the sense of familiarity the place brought him. 

He'd been worried about your reaction to his sudden return, but as expected, you'd taken it as well as ever. Alastor knew he was more than lucky to have a best friend as understanding as yourself, even if he wasn't going to be getting out of telling you the truth eventually. But until then, he was glad just to be able to spend time with you and catch up.

It really was good to be back. 

..........

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

[sailing-ever-west]

The Vinsmoke men are misogynistic and it's so narratively important even though it's mostly subtext and never outright stated. None of them ever say anything against women specifically, and they don't seem to discriminate as far as who can be warriors, but their actions reek of it nonetheless and I can't stop thinking about it.

On the surface it seems like Sanji gives thought to treating women differently and the Vinsmokes don't, but it's clear through their actions that the only "equality" they're really upholding is that no gender is exempt from abuse and exploitation.

It's like when people say "well if you want equality, women should get drafted into the military too!" When the problem is that no one should be forced to join the military. That's basically exactly what Germa is doing.

Sanji's view of women is frequently flawed and a bit myopic, but he seeks to treat them with kindness and love and respect, whereas the Vinsmokes make no attempt at philosophy about women and just treat them horribly.

The most glaring example is probably Cosette, who they berated for making food they didn't like and then proceeded to beat unconscious solely to shatter her confidence and upset Sanji. And when Sanji is understandably enraged at their horrible abuse, they assume the reason is that he was physically attracted to her and didn't want the object of his attraction damaged (saying they didn't know he Liked her, and if the busted up face wasn't a dealbreaker they could make her Sanji's personal attendant, which also reaaally sounds like code for something else).

Another aspect is that despite having no emotions, the Vinsmoke brothers still seem to experience attraction to women. But it's not love in any sense of the word, just purely physical. They find Nami attractive, even wanting to arrange to keep her around when the Strawhats are captured by Big Mom (ew), and there's that scene of them and Judge in their private room surrounded by mostly drunken unconscious (and rather scantily dressed if I remember correctly) barmaids that were sent to them. Granted, nothing Happens in that scene, but the undertones are gross and we're only shown a small portion of the night. Whatever the case, it's clear that these women were not sent in to be equal, respectable company, but an objectified distraction to pair with alcohol, and were treated as such.

And then there are the internal family dynamics, which I think are the biggest and most important part.

To start, there's Reiju. On the surface she seems like she has the same status as her brothers, a modified Germa weapon capable of performing as her father wants. But whenever Judge talks about being proud of his children, he always emphasizes the triplets. Often he doesn't even mention Reiju, and his attention to the boys' training seems to be much closer than to hers. Her raid suit is also more sexualized, as though that's expected to be part of her arsenal. And of course, there's her name meaning "zero" while the boys are all numbered. She is the eldest, but she survives by being ignored, and it's clear that her father prefers her emotionless brothers. This feels symbolic as well since being emotional is often seen as a feminine trait, portrayed as a weakness. Judge hates weakness. And so he hates emotion, hates women.

But at the root of it all, really, is Sora. Sora who's choices and body and children were stolen from her for an abusive man's ideals about war and domination. We don't really get to know how much choice she had in her marriage, but given Judge's royal status and the fact that they obviously share zero values I think it would have to be a strategic political arrangement at best, and something she got no say in at worst.

The kids are all named in a numbering system, which also reeks of Judge not letting her into the decisions. And, of course, there is the absolutely horrific experience of being forced into prenatal surgery to genetically modify her children against her will, to the point that the only way she could exercise any agency was to poison herself in an attempt to save even one of them. She was literally just a baby-producing machine to Judge and it couldn't be more blatant.

The violent, self-centered, and misogynistic Vinsmoke brothers are born directly from a woman's choice being taken away from her. Kind, selfless, and loving Sanji is born directly from her one act of defiance, and then later saved by his sister's one act of defiance as well (after which, she was programmed to be obedient).

Basically, the Vinsmoke family is built and preserved on the abuse and exploitation of women, and Sanji is the black sheep for many reasons, but I suspect a rather large one is that he's the ultimate antithesis to that.

[maidragoste]

Family

Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader (unrequited love), Alicent Hightower x Velaryon!Reader, Larys Strong x Velaryon!Reader

Part 3 of this Part 4

Serie Masterlist

comments, reblogs, likes are always greatly appreciated. I will always thank you for supporting this series 🥰💖 because I really did not expect so many people to like it

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

You had only stopped by the nursery because you wanted to see Daeron before continuing your duties. Normally there were two nannies to take care of the smaller princes but one of the women had fallen ill so the other woman was left alone to take care of. You were sorry to see how tired she was so you told her to take a break for at least an hour. You took care of all of Alicent's children so you didn't have a problem. You knew how to calm Daeron down in case he woke up. What is the worst that could happen?

Jacaerys.

He was the one who woke up crying. Probably any other woman would have refused to comfort the bastard of her husband and went looking for a maid. But you didn't even doubt it, you took him in your arms and began to sing the song that your mother used to sing to you when you were little. You only did it because you didn't want him to interrupt Daeron's sleep.

You thought it would be something strange or uncomfortable because the truth is, whenever you could, you avoided being near the little prince. You were sure you only picked him up when Rhaenyra introduced him to you. For a moment you thought that the baby's crying would get worse but to your surprise, Jacaerys' little hands clung to you. It didn't feel bad. You supposed that the little prince had a bad dream because if you didn't you didn't understand his reaction after all you thought you were a stranger to him… Or maybe Laenor sang him the same song when he was restless. Still, you were relieved that Daeron hadn't woken up.

You started walking around the room while you sang. You were surprised to hear him babble as if he was trying to sing with you. You couldn't help but laugh. Jacaerys smiled at you. And at that moment you knew you couldn't hate him. It was unfair. Rhaenyra and Harwin have no right to have such cute babies… Years ago you imagined what your children would be like with your husband. Of course, they didn't look like Jacaerys. You always imagined them to be more like you, but they shared the same eyes as Jacaerys, Harwin's eyes.

"He likes you"

Your brother's voice brought you back to reality. Laenor had gone to check on Jace and was amazed to see you carrying his son while you sang to him. The truth was that Laenor had lost hope of seeing you form a bond with his son, but after seeing this scene he had hope again. He knew that your heart would not allow you to hate Jacaerys and he hoped that one day you would forgive him.

“The prince woke up grumpy. I'm sure I would have accepted anyone's company" you said trying not to give importance to Laenor's words "Now that you're here and you can watch over the princes I can continue with my duties" you wanted to pass the baby to your brother but as soon as Jacaerys saw As you walked away, he began to cry again. Laenor returned the prince to you and you began to sing again. You were sure that neither of you two thought about it and you only did it to avoid hearing his cry.

The situation is this: you can't leave because if you do then Jacaerys cries again. So now you have to put up with being in the same room as Laenor, whom you avoid as much of the time as possible, and knowing him he would take this opportunity to talk to you.

"Sorry," your brother said over your singing. You knew he was apologizing for not telling you about Harwin's affair with Rhaenyra. It wasn't the first time he apologized "I thought you knew."

"That's new," you said surprised, interrupting your singing.

"Well, if you weren't avoiding me all the time we could have had this conversation earlier."

"Continue" you demanded. You weren't about to admit that he was right, they probably should have had this conversation months ago, but I couldn't blame you for ignoring it. He is your brother, he is your family, and he chose Rhaenyra over you. He betrayed you, too, and his betrayal hurt more than Harwin's and Rhaenyra's because you had always trusted that Laenor would have your back.

“I thought they had an agreement. The three of you” you looked at him like he was stupid because you couldn't understand how he came to think that you would let your husband fuck your cousin “Don't look at me like that. You loved her. I remember when you were little girls"

You couldn't help but tense up at his last words. Of course, you remember. You remember all too well. The picnics on sunny mornings, how shiny her hair looked in the sun. The races to see which dragon flew the fastest, her smile every time she won, and when you taught her to swim at Driftmark. But that was in the past.

"Of course I loved her. We were friends and she was my family" you said trying to ignore the wave of nostalgia you were having.

"Of course, friends." Laenor looked at you sadly…as if he didn't believe you and as if he knew something you didn't. “The point is that if I had known it was something between just the two of them I would have told you and even done everything I could to nip it in the bud. I tried to do it now but-"they both winced as they remembered the big celebration Viserys had after Rhaenyra announced her second pregnancy"I swear to the gods I thought you knew, I realized my mistake when I saw your face holding Jace for the first time" he approached you and felt joy when you didn't back down "You are my little sister and I would never do anything to cause you pain. I miss you"

A week ago your parents and your sister had written to let you know that they would be coming to King's Landing soon because they wanted to be by your side during your pregnancy. You were sure that Laenor had also received their respective letters with the same information.

"In part" he admitted with a small smile and it didn't take long for you to imitate him. You still hadn't fully forgiven him but you were tired of being mad at him all the time. You missed your family.

•••••

“It's a joy to have the whole family together again,” Viserys declared, and Daemon raised his glass with a smile.

Sometimes you're surprised by how dense Viserys is. Sometimes you think that in reality, he is not stupid and that he only pretends to be blind because he does not want to see reality… You refuse to believe that the king is such an idiot that he does not realize that your parents seem to want to kill Harwin and Rhaenyra. If looks could kill they would already be ten meters underground. It gives you satisfaction to see the discomfort on the faces of the princess and your husband. Still, you wish the king hadn't organized this dinner, you just wanted to be with your family alone. Every time Viserys talked about how your son and Rhaenyra's baby could become great friends in the future because they'll only be apart for a few months made you want to punch the king. Alicent also seems to be sick of hearing those words because you think you see a tick in her eye.

Laenor and Laena seem to restrain themselves from jumping on Daemon because he won't stop smiling every time Viserys talks about your and Rhaenyra's son. Of course, he also sometimes makes his own contributions to the conversations, stressing mostly the surprise that the Baratheon genes are so strong.

The Strongs had been invited out of courtesy. Larys is silent for most of the dinner but you're sure he's thinking of different ways to torture Daemon for his comments.

Poor Lyonel Strong seems to be on the alert all the time, especially when your mother takes the knife to cut her meat. You're sure he fears that she'll throw the knife at Harwin or she'll throw herself across the table and murder his heir.

So the only people who seemed to enjoy this dinner were Viserys and Daemon. The rest could not wait for it to end once and for all. It seemed that the king did not plan to end the evening soon so you decided to use your condition to withdraw early. You groaned and put your hand on your stomach. Instantly all eyes turned to you.

“Are you okay?” Harwin asked, looking at you with concern.

“I'm fine” you forced yourself to smile at him because any other woman would have appreciated her husband's concern “I'm sorry the baby is fussy” you winced ”. My king, I hope I do not offend you, but I will ask your permission to withdraw. In my condition, I'm sorry to say that I don't have the same energy as before."

“Sure, dear. You do not have to apologize"

"Thank you" you smiled and got up from your seat "It really was a wonderful evening"

"Let me walk you," Harwin said, getting up quickly.

You wanted to hit him. But instead, you told him "No need, my love" you felt disgusted for calling him that but you tried hard not to show it. You couldn't abandon the role of the good wife “I would really prefer my mother to accompany me. She has more experience than you in this area” you rubbed your stomach with a small smile as you felt that this time she was really kicking your baby.

"Oh good," your husband said somewhat stunned by the nickname. I haven't heard you call him that in months. I was already thinking that you would never call him that again. He wanted to hear it again soon. He also missed when you spoke to him in High Valyrian.

Harwin was so deep in his thoughts that he barely said goodbye to you and your mother. In fact, his father had to remind him that he was still standing.

“I know you were lying,” your mother whispered to you as they walked, arms linked, toward your chambers.

You didn't answer. There weren't many servants awake yet but you don't want to risk one of them overhearing you talking to your mother. You always had to be careful.

“Yes, I lied” you admitted once they were alone in the safety of your chambers “But it was for a good cause. If we continued at that dinner someone was going to end up dead," you said as you watched her take your comb.

Your mother made you sit on the bed. She sat behind you and began to brush your hair. She reminded you of the ritual you had when you were little. Every night before you went to sleep she would come to comb your hair and they would talk about your day, sometimes she would tell you a story, other times she would sing to you. When your baby was born you planned to do the same.

"I can still kill your husband," your mother said making you snort.

"You can't burn him alive"

Rhaenys allowed herself a moment to stop combing your hair and imagine Harwin's screams as Meleys's flames engulfed him. That image calmed his anger a bit.

"I can kill him in other ways"

“If you kill him, you will be the first suspect. Everyone can see how you look at it. Lord Hand was on alert for you all dinner."

"I'm not going to apologize. Your husband deserves nothing but death. He humiliated you in front of the whole court, in front of the whole world. He not only humiliated you, but he also humiliated your brother and our entire family. There is no part of the entire kingdom in which the resemblance of Jacaerys and your husband is not discussed ”he tightly gripped the comb“ He never deserved you. ”

Neither of your parents had been happy with your marriage but they supported you because they love you and you looked so happy that they were not going to get in the way of your happiness. For them, you were always destined for great things. Not necessarily to be queen, Rhaenys would never say that but much of her was relieved that Viserys won't marry you, but there were better matches than a Strong. Your beauty and kindness had always been a source of admiration in the kingdom so you could have gotten any man you wanted.

“You deserve better than this. You can still start over. I can hire someone to—

"I need him alive" you abruptly interrupted your mother, surprising her.

If Harwin dies then you have no reason to stay in King's Landing. You cannot leave your house. You could never leave Alicent or Larys, let alone the children. You would not hesitate a week without being able to see your children; without going to Dragons'pit with Aegon and teaching him Valyrian, without accompanying Heleaena to look for new creatures, without singing to Aemond and Daeron.

It made you want to cry to imagine yourself without Alicent and Larys. They are your lovers. You couldn't abandon them. Nobody cares about them as you do. Alicent doesn't have any real friends, people only see her as the queen, not the real Alicent. And Larys, people see him as a burden, as someone broke, as someone useless, all because of his clubfoot.

They love you, they care for you, and they are always ready to punish anyone who has upset or hurt you. Your lovers know when you are having a bad day and they are there for you. They remind you how important you are, Alicent is always ready to pamper you, asking the cooks to prepare your favorites and give you kisses, and Larys lets you unload while he massages you.

“I need him alive” you repeat, turning around to look her in the eye “I know everything he did” you continued talking to see that your mother seemed to want to interrupt you “Mother, I'm not stupid, I didn't forgive him and I won't. You taught me well to value myself. I don't need him alive because I love him. I need it because I want my son to meet his father” you took her free hand and squeezed it “Please don't do anything” you kissed her knuckles.

Your mother dropped the comb and caressed your cheek "My little girl, what did you do?"

Rhaenys was not stupid. If you said you hadn't forgiven Harwin then it meant you hadn't slept with him…You aren't pregnant by your husband.

"I did my duty" you answered with a smile "I gave the Strongs an heir"

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[starmosaics]

Venus square Mars synastry

Mars person may be confused as to why they feel compelled to the Venus because the Venus person may not be typically the person the Mars person would pursue, but they feel drawn to them and is usually the one to initiate something between the two.

Venus person finds the Mars person's energy super vitalizing and is attracted to the way the Mars person exudes themselves. Mars finds the Venus person to be enthralling and captivating, especially when seeing them engage with others in a social setting; They may perceive Venus to have a lot of prestige. Venus may view the Mars person to be super charismatic and outgoing and likes their demeanor, along with finding things that the Mars person is doing to be intriguing. There's so much passion between the two initially, it's honestly a rush. Other times, the passion seems dormant and you guys may not even realize that there's more to the connection until someone else points it out or until one of you guys realize there's more feelings there; maybe at first you two didn't even like each other at all until there was a realization.

I don't want to get too into my own personal experiences with this, but I've had a few connections with people who’ve had their Mars squaring my Venus and all of them acted super intensely towards me. You will know if Mars person is into you because they’ll be pretty direct; other times them coming onto you will feel like it came out of nowhere (Mars represents impulse).

This can be a really exhilarating connection where Mars somewhat vitalizes the Venus person by exposing them to new things and environments that they haven't experienced or been in before. Example, my ex and 2 of their band mates all had their Mars squaring my Venus and they all introduced me to the music scene and I started spending a lot more time going to shows and meeting other musicians which I wouldn't have done if I wasn't exposed to it.

Mars person likes joking around with Venus, but may push it too far which could end up hurting the Venus person’s feelings. They may even be somewhat competitive with the Venus person. Mars person also loves doing just about anything to get their attention and validation. They may end up showing themselves off just to get the Venus person to acknowledge them.

Mars person can be super encouraging towards Venus person, but may push Venus past their limits in what they're capable of accomplishing. Venus person can feel super inspired by being around the Mars person.

In a sexual context, this can be a really sexually charged dynamic where both people want something and are driven to get it for pleasure. Mars will want to totally consume the Venus person and may even come on way too strong at first. Mars person will want it all.the.time. once the Venus person gives them access. This is a very lustful aspect and the lust can be what drives the Mars person to keep trying to get Venus' attention.

If Mars does come on too strongly, this can cause the Venus person to repel. The Mars person needs to be mindful of the Venus person's wants and needs before acting on something that they personally wish to happen. Consent is important in any connection regardless of synastry aspects, but in my own personal experience with this aspect, the Mars person may think the Venus person wants the same thing as them, but they're really only considering what it is that they want and is usually extremely driven and persistent to get it which can put the Venus person in an uncomfortable position. Mars can be incredibly selfish and can only have their interest in mind in worst case scenarios (ex. only doing activities that Mars person enjoys, disregarding what Venus wants to do. Another ex. during sex, Mars person finishes, but doesn’t check in with Venus to see if they’re satisfied).

A few more possible downsides of this aspect is that the passion and excitement burns out and eventually becomes replaced with annoyance and resentment, along with the timing being wrong. Like I said, I've had a few people I had this aspect with in our synastry (me being Venus) where when I wanted them, they were dating somebody else, and when they eventually wanted me back, I already moved on or was in my own relationship; super frustrating to be honest. Mars person can also end up trying to control the Venus person and push their agendas onto them.

Overall, I'd say this aspect is a mixed bag for sure and can go either way where it's full of passion and excitement or irritation and frustration; most likely all of the above. I'd love to hear your guys' personal experiences with this aspect!!

[khattikeri]

drives me nuts when people treat jin guangyao or wei wuxian like they're socialist revolutionaries like no! they're not!! in fact their respective roles in society and complacency regarding its hierarchies is why ANY of the story even happens to begin with!!!

jin guangyao doesn't hold bitterness just because he was born lower class. he is bitter because others deride him and his prostitute mother in spite of both their intelligence, skills, and efforts to climb the ladder.

why do you think we were shown scenes of other prostitutes in the brothel deriding meng shi for being literate, for "trying" so hard? why do you think we were shown scenes of anxin taunting meng yao and throwing shit at him because he was trying to learn cultivation at his mother's behest?

why do you think jin guangyao arranged for the arson of that brothel, burned to the ground with everyone except sisi inside? that's not the behavior of someone who believes in true equality and the inherent worth of sex workers as human beings!

that's the behavior of someone who thinks he's better than them. the behavior of a man who already came up on top through political games and war crimes, backstabbing and spying for the sake of the "greater good".

i won't rehash his argument to nie mingjue that he didn't have a choice-- he had some choice, but no matter what he does his class will come up and people will always assume the worst and try to hurt him for it, which forces his hand to do whatever will protect him best (hence 'no choice').

jin guangyao did everything he could to secure his own safety and a place among those already higher up. and by that point, he'd won it.

the fact that the temple rebuilt on the brothel site is to guanyin, the goddess of mercy, is even more ironic! the fact that jin guangyao has the goddess's statue carved to look like his own mother is proof that he viewed both her and himself as higher than them. more worthy than them.

of course he cared about the general welfare of others (read: the watchtowers). but consider also that there is no watchtower near yi city, which ended up being one of xue yang's playgrounds. jin guangyao can and will turn a blind eye to certain sufferings if it is convenient to him.

sure, jin guangyao made undeniable contributions to cultivation society and accessibility, but he is not at any point trying to topple existing class structures. his adherence to them is in fact integral to his own downfall in the end.

it brings with it the inevitability of society conveniently ignoring his triumphs and genuine moments of humanity to deride him once more as an evil, disgusting son of a whore once his crimes come to light.

now for wei wuxian. he's the righteous protagonist of the story and he doesn't give a fuck what society thinks, yes, but he wasn't out there trying to cause an uprising so that all the poor servant classes and lower could become cultivators. he wasn't trying to redistribute wealth or insinuate that those who are lower deserve to be viewed as equal to the gentry.

the most critical and non-explicitly stated fact of mo dao zu shi is that wei wuxian has always been resigned to his position in the social hierarchy.

his unreliable narration, especially regarding his own past and thoughts, is so damn important. he doesn't EVER tell the reader directly that people treated him any which way at their leisure because of his parents' differing social classes.

no. instead we are shown how much prestige he is afforded as cangse-sanren's son-- reputation as a talented and charming young cultivator, made head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang-- and how little respect he is given in the same breath, as the son of servant wei changze.

the way he is treated by others is as fickle as the wind. if he obeys and does as told, there is no reward. of course he did that, that was the expectation to start with! if he does anything even slightly inconvenient, there is a punishment. of course he has no manners, what else would you expect from an ungrateful son of a servant?

wei wuxian's righteousness is not a matter of adhering to principles he was explicitly taught, the way nie mingjue values honor or the way jiang cheng always tries to prove himself. wei wuxian does the right thing regardless of what the consequences are to him because his good deeds are always downplayed and his bad deeds are always singled out, no matter who or how many people were doing it with him.

he has faced this double standard since childhood. there are points in the novel where it's clear that this sticks out to wei wuxian, but does he ever fight back against that view of himself? does he EVER, at any point in the story, explain his actions and choices to jianghu society and try to debate or appeal to their sense of reason?

no. because he knows, at his very core, that any explicit deviation from their interests whatsoever will be punished.

slaughtering thousands of people is fine when they want him to do it, and when the alternative is unjust torture, re-education camps, and encroachment upon other sects' lands.

slaughtering thousands of people who are trying to paint him as evil for not going along with their genocidal plans, however, is punished.

wei wuxian knows his acceptance among the higher classes is superficial and unsteady. from the age of 10, when jiang fengmian took him in, he knew subconsciously that he could be kicked out at any time.

he knows that cultivation society doesn't care about war crimes and concentration camps and mistreatment of the remaining wen survivors of the sunshot campaign. but the right thing to do now that they aren't at wartime is to help them, plus they'd punish him either way for it, so he will.

in this regard wei wuxian is more self-aware of his position than jin guangyao. he does care about common people and he does try his best to help them as an individual. even if that ends up with him disabled, arrested, targeted in sieges, or dead.

but is he revolutionary? in the full equality, fight the establishment, rewrite laws, change social structures and people's perceptions of class sense?

no. no. he isn't.

now my knowledge of chinese society and history is fairly limited to my hindu diaspora upbringing and our shared cultural similarities ... but speaking to what i absolutely know us true, adherence to one's social class is expected.

this is rigid. efforts and merits might bring you some level of mobility, but in the end, the circumstances of your birth will always be scrutinized first, and your behavior compared to the stereotypes of where and how you originate.

mdzs is not about revolution, and none of its characters are able to truly change its society. there is no grand "maybe cutsleeves aren't inherently bad" or "i'm sorry for persecuting you and believing hearsay, you were truly a good person all along!" at the finale.

people ignore history and repeat it again with the next batch of ugly gossip and rumors.

wei wuxian, lan wangji, and luo qingyang find peace only by distancing themselves from cultivation society and its opinions.

jin guangyao and wei wuxian both cannot ever escape from others' perception of their origins and actions. regardless of their personal beliefs, they are not revolutionaries.